Elmer fastened his waist bag over his hip and took his data form in hand, then swiped his eyes toward Mabel. But it was not until after a few seconds of hesitation did he stick a finger beneath her nose to feel a breeze of warm air smear his skin before taking his leave of the room.

As the creaking of the stairs ceased with Elmer’s last step down, the door of the furthest room behind it swung open, and out came a lady wearing a lace blouse of light brown with a skirt and waist corset of the same color but deeper.

She had a small bag of leather strung sideways over her chest and a white shawl decorating her arms, and on her shaggy hair sat a small straw hat with a black ribbon wrapped around it. Her golden eyes were narrow and tired so much that it was almost as though she had woken up from a long sleep but still craved a bit more.

“Ah,” Polly mouthed when she met Elmer’s gaze, her tone claiming surprise but her plain and pale expression rendering it false. “Good morning,” she said, her voice back to its distinct faintness.

“Good morning,” Elmer replied, and she bobbed her head at him before walking ahead, leaving a faint scent of rose in her wake.

He was not concerned that she seemed a little more quiet than she had been the last time they’d met, so he let his lips loose for what bothered him the most.

“The water,” he said, halting Polly’s attempt to pull the door open, “how have you been using it?”

She turned to face him. “Whatever do you mean, Elmer Hills?”

His name coming from her mouth sounded a great deal weird to his ears. They had come forth as monotonous as they could have ever been, and… When was the last time he’d even been called in full?

“The water,” he repeated while pushing his thoughts to his side. “I asked how you’ve been using it?”

“How else could I have been using it?” Her lips twitched indistinctly.

“I don’t know. You tell me. Maybe you’ve been wasting it.” Elmer’s head dropped slightly to something of an angle, but he made sure his gaze remained planted on her. Nothing about her demeanor changed though. Nothing at all. “Whatever you’ve been doing with the hot water, I kindly ask you to stop so it’s enough for us both.”

Was he jumping into conclusions? Probably. But what else could he do, or who else could he fault for the water lacking heat? As he and Polly were the only two in the apartment—well, aside from his little sister—then it shouldn’t matter when he brought Mabel to the bathroom, she should be able to use the hot water.

“I’m sorry Elmer Hills, but you must be somewhat confused.” She put a hand to her hip. “I have been doing nothing with the water.”

Elmer sighed. “You say that, but the landlord—”

“Well, the landlord could have been wrong, couldn’t he?” Polly cut him off in a rather flat manner.

Elmer tsked. “And am I to take your words over the one of this building’s landlord?”

“As if this building’s landlord knows what goes on in here,” she shot back. “It took him a whole day to remove the dead body I had told him about. He didn’t even know someone had died. What makes you think he knows anything about how the water in this building operates?”

Elmer felt the spike in her voice, but he could not hear any change in tone that would prove his feelings true.

He didn’t know what to say anymore. Even today he had used the cold water, but if she was claiming that she had not been wasting the hot water meant for the earliest of persons, then what could he do?

He let out a breath. “Just take it a bit easy whenever you use the water, please.”

A whole week had passed, and it had been only twice he had been able to wash Mabel with hot water. He could not afford to let it keep going that way until it spiraled into the coldness of winter. The thought of dipping Mabel into something cold tweaked further by icy air made him shiver.

“If you insist,” Polly said after a moment of silence.

Elmer followed behind her as she pulled open the door and walked out. And it was in that manner they continued under the break of early morning until they arrived at the thoroughfare where only a few scavenging workers remained.

Elmer’s mind tingled then. He had his reasons for not crawling out of bed before the gray sky turned blue, but what about Polly? Was she really so well off as he had mentioned that she didn’t need to hurry to work like the rest of the lower classes?

He eyed her all the way from the exquisitely plaited straw hat on her head down to the long white stockings and black T-bar shoes about her feets. There was no need to even peek a glance at the few ladies around them to notice how vastly different her style was to theirs. But if she was so well-to-do then why was she staying in the slums?

Elmer could not settle on a reason, he could not even find any, and it made his curiosity eat into him more and more that he almost did not notice the arrival of a few carriages.

But despite the appearance of a mode of transportation he still chose, firstly, to give in to his spirit of inquiry. Though, just as he was about to let his lips loose, so did Polly Bagley’s faint voice whoosh into his ears carrying the words, “Until later, Elmer Hills.” She waved the back of her palm at him as she picked up the hem of her skirt and hopped into a carriage.

Elmer watched it trod down the road which led to the Foreign District for a short while, before he took himself—with an exhale—and boarded another of the not-yet-filled carriage which was headed down the North-east borough. Twenty five pence it was. How much did he have left again?

…

Elmer dropped his feet onto the walkway shuffling with people, and took a deep breath of the fresh air blessed with the salty smell of sea, while his eyes took a moment to glimpse the abundance of seafarers that filled up the area. But he let his eyes free from their sight soon after as his mind laid bare his situation of money before him.

At this rate he was going to have nothing to spend anymore. He needed to get all these little things done quickly so he could become a bounty hunter and earn while searching for The Warlock’s Torch. That way, he would basically be killing two birds with a stone.

Looking up, Elmer saw that the building with the number 37 was a shop with a diagonal structure which had the words: ‘Hank . Gus Bakery’ carved into its mahogany trimmed facade. Its display window presented an array of bread and pastries stacked upon long shelves spanning its length, while its door put on a clear view of the interior devoid of people.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Elmer’s brows drew closer.

He had visited the few bakeries at Meadbray once in a while, and due to the nature of the bakery owners there he had never once thought that someone who could be so delicate with kneading doughs to form bread would ever involve themselves with something illegal.

If this bakery was the right place, then maybe it was high time he started seeing the world as it was. And there was only one way to find out if he had come to the right place.

Elmer slid each of his palms down his pants, wiping them off their sweats to prevent it from dampening the data form, and took himself into the bakery, leaving the jingle of the shop bell behind him.

As his legs found the black and white checkered tile floor which spanned the interior of the bakery, he exchanged the smell of salty air with that of flour and the sweet aromas of newly made pastries. He could distinguish each.

The warm scent of freshly baked bread. The buttery undertone which spelled the birth of flaky croissants. The subtle bitterness of dark chocolate wafting through his nose to remind him of the desserts he had always gotten for free at Miss Sally’s little bakery.

Ah… Elmer cocked his head to the side with a shallow sigh as his memory wandered off to his favorite of the bakeries at Meadbray.

Miss Sally had always given him chocolate truffles for he and Mabel whenever he had visited, and even though he’d preferred to be given the chocolate cake instead, he never rejected her generosity. After all, who in their right senses rejected free food?

Elmer suddenly snapped away from his daydream and brought himself back to the reality he was currently in. Meadbray was behind him now, the world of Ascenders was all that remained.

Across from him was a counter engraved with the same words as that on the facade, and around the space stood shelves stacked with trays that held pastries of different kinds. Beside the counter was a door made of mahogany, which now flung open as the one behind Elmer closed shut and its bell jingles died down.

Two boys of a lower age than Mabel dressed in vests and white aprons propped out, both wearing a mop of black hair on their heads and had features indistinguishable from each other.

They came before Elmer with natural harmony in their steps, their faces smeared with the white of flour and their palms stacked upon each other. And with a smile they said in unison, “Welcome to Hank Gus Bakery. What would you like to order this lovely morning?”

They had practiced well, Elmer could see that, and their work should normally be deserving of his patronage, only he wasn’t here for that.

“I’m here to see Mr. Hank. Do you mind getting him for me?” Elmer told them, and his words changed their smiles into a pout.

“Hanky is baking,” the one to the left said and his twin nodded.

Hanky…? What a weird nickname… Elmer thought, then cleared his throat.

“Well, could you tell Hanky that someone is here to see him?”

“No,” the same boy to the left said. He was probably the most outspoken of the twins. “Hanky hates ruckus when he’s baking.”

“That’s why we are the ones attending to you,” the other of the twins finally spoke, but gently. “He says it bothers his baking.”

Elmer wanted to believe he was not at the right place because of what he envisioned bakers as, and as well Hanky’s love for baking, but Hanky was Mr. Hank, seeing as the children had answered to the mention of the name, so he was definitely where he was meant to be.

Now why was Mr. Hank, a person who loved baking so much, putting his feet into the muddy depths of illegal things?

He would love to know, but it was none of his business.

Elmer leaned forward at the boys. “Tell—” He was about to speak when a voice cut him off.

“What’s with all the ruckus?”

The boys turned around, and Elmer raised his head toward the direction of the door beside the counter, glimpsing the wiry man who had a gaunt face covered by black gruff beards and was dressed in a white shirt and an apron.

Ruckus…? Surely this is Hanky…

Elmer straightened himself then bowed, and without wasting any time he said, “Lev sent me.”

Hanky’s face twitched, then he stretched forward his hand and motioned a call for the two boys. “Ted, Ned, here.” The boys ran over to him. “Go in and help your mother.” They both nodded and immediately vanished into the door. “What do you want?” Hanky asked Elmer soon after. It seemed he had no time for little talks, and so did Elmer.

“This,” Elmer walked over and stretched the form at Hanky. “I need your assistance with this.”

Hanky took the form from Elmer’s hand and peered into it. “What is this?”

“A data form for the certification to be an Ascender by the Church.”

Hanky’s face shot up to him at once, his gaze narrowed into scruntiny. “You’re an Ascender?” he asked, the pitch of his voice a little rough.

Elmer nodded. “That I am. And I need to forge the Church’s seal on that, which is why I’m here.”

Hanky clicked his tongue. “Lev took you down the illegal route, huh? That boy never changes.” He shook his head and showed Elmer the form. “This is your last chance, you know. Once you do this there’s no going back. The Church will hunt you if they ever find out, and only Chronos himself knows what they’ll do to you. Do you still want the seal forged?”

There’s no going back…? Elmer scoffed deep within. Five years ago when his sister’s soul was taken was when all the roads which led backward had been blocked. It was only forward now, until he took back her soul—until he’d had his revenge on those priests.

He nodded. “I am well aware, and I will deal with the consequences myself.”

“Alright,” Hanky said. “Give me your address, once the seal is forged I will contact you. Make sure you have the payment ready by then.”

Ah, yes. Payment, of course. Elmer had almost forgotten.

“How much is it?” Elmer asked.

“Five hundred mints.”

Elmer’s eyes widened as his chin dropped. “Five hundred mints?!” he stuttered in exclamation. “That’s too expensive.”

“You mean: too cheap?” Hanky raised a brow at him. “You want me to forge the Church’s seal, boy. Were you expecting me to give you the price of a piece of bread?”

It was not that, he just didn’t have the money.

“Mind giving me a discount, sir? Ten percent would do.”

“This is my discount for you being Lev’s friend. There’s no better discount than that coming from me.”

That was good and all, but where was he going to start from to get five hundred mints worth of money. There was no way.

Elmer shook his head. What was he even thinking? He just had to work harder, even if he would push himself halfway to death. It was either this or going to the Church, and the latter was very little of an option. But one more thing still bothered him.

“How long is it going to take?” Elmer asked.

“A month,” Hanky told him. “Maybe two.”

Elmer’s breathing paused as his chest seized, and he unknowingly fell to his knees. “Two weeks,” he said, bowing his head. “I’ll pay six hundred—no, seven hundred, just have it forged in two weeks. Please.”

In his desperation he had blurted nonsense, but the fact that he needed to get it all done before the illusionary potion wore out gave him no choice. Somehow, he was not sure if he would be able to meet—

He groaned softly as his head throbbed hard again, pausing and canceling whatever thoughts had almost made their way into his mind. And then, as he was still gathering himself, an agitated voice roared at him.

“Get up, boy!” Hanky seemed to have snapped. “Do you think forging this seal is as easy as boarding a carriage? It takes time.”

“Please,” Elmer begged again as his pulsing head relaxed somewhat. “Please. If I don’t get it done in that timeframe I’ll be in trouble, then it would all be for nothing. So please, if there’s any way, kindly help me.”

Hanky remained silent for a moment before grunting then saying, “Seven hundred mints it is. Get it ready by next week and meet me here.”

Elmer exhaled, then raised his head just in time to see Hanky pause after arriving before the counter.

“Now take your ruckus and get out of my shop.”