Elmer felt for his temples, his head still pulsing a bit from the sharp pain that had struck it inside the bakery.

He had said all that about the money to Hanky, but where was he even going to start from to make such an amount?

His mind swirled as he trudged along the walkway while searching for any nearby carriage stand, as he was unable to find himself a public carriage that could accommodate nor ride him to the backwaters.

It was either he chanced on one that was willing to go down the route that led to his home, or he would have no choice but to rely on his feet, and the distance was anything but short.

Elmer was almost coming upon an intersection when all of a sudden a wren flew past his vision and startled his steps to a halt.

With an exhale, calming himself from the sudden jolt the wren had caused him, his eyes followed the little bird as it fluttered to the walkway across from him, and perched momentarily on a chalkboard A-frame sign that read: Dickens Used Books.

Elmer’s brows raised at once, and he positioned himself in a straight line, anchoring his attention on the shop that had been brought into his view.

The only small and dusty window the shop had showcased glimpses of the withered books and rolled bundles of newspapers that were stacked neatly on the shelf embracing it. And with their view came something of an idea which joined itself with the thoughts of money in Elmer’s head.

He instinctively felt for his waist bag, bringing about his hesitation for a few seconds before he finally sighed and crossed the road, putting himself before the bookstore of worn-out bricks.

Following his prior action, he stretched his hand and turned the knob of the pinewood door, pushing it open and walking into the store. But just as the dusty smells of worn out papers and leathers permeating the air made it into his nose did he find himself blocking the movement of a lady lithe and tall.

Elmer shuddered at the unexpected sight of her as she stood a tad over him, his heart almost leaping out of his chest.

The lady looked rather young with silken, pale skin, and she was dressed in a combination of things Elmer had never seen put together in such a manner before.

She wore a loose blouse of white accompanied by a brown leather corset wrung about her bust, which were paired by high-waisted brown breeches, leather belts, a sash with a holster diagonally worn over her shoulder, where the base of a flintlock pistol protruded from, and flat knee-length boots.

And completing it all was a long brown overcoat, and an embellished tricorn hat of the same color that sat atop her long dark-blonde hair which looked like it had been dampened by rain dew.

But most of all, Elmer felt some sort of unfamiliar familiarity at her. Like he had seen her before—but he knew well that he hadn’t.

That thought rooted him to the spot, creased his eyebrows, and caused him to unknowingly drill her excessively with his gaze.

Until she voiced in a cold, smug tone that carried some sort of strength which made Elmer question if she was really of a young age.

“Move,” she said, and those words pulled Elmer free from his mind, collected a bow of apology from him, and made him shuffle out of the way.

Elmer’s eyes followed her as she walked out of the bookstore and past the dusty window. And it was not until she was completely out of his sight did he sigh and move ahead to the counter where the store owner had his seat.

“Good morning,” he said from across the counter to the middle-aged man who was wearing a cheap woolen sack coat over a brown vest, and reading a newspaper titled boldly on the front page with the words: Fitzroy’s daily classic.

The man looked up at him through his glasses. “Ah, good morning, sir,” he greeted with a thin, raspy voice. “Forgive me, I was so engrossed that I didn’t see you there. The newspaper has some interesting things today.” He chuckled as he folded the paper before rising to his feet.

For someone far older than Elmer was, the man had an air of politeness toward him. He even looked to be as well older than the condescending driver Elmer had met at the train station, and that one was anything but mannerly.

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Maybe it was because the man was most likely in the same low societal class as he, while the condescending driver was in all likelihood a step higher in the middle class. But still… If a man at least twenty years older than him could speak to him in such a civil tone, then the class range was just an excuse for stupidity—at least on that driver’s part.

“There’s no problem, sir,” Elmer told the store owner with a bob of his head, then took his gaze once more to the shop’s window as his mind wandered off to the lady he had intercepted a few moments ago, her face still stuck in his mind. Where had he seen her before? He pondered, but it was to no avail.

“Do you fancy a book from the window shelf?” a voice asked, and Elmer returned his eyes to the tender, wrinkled features of the store owner before him.

“No, I was just…” he abruptly trailed off while his eyes retreated to the floor, then he smacked his lips and shot them back at the man. “That lady, the one who just left, who was she?”

“Lady?” The store owner’s visage scrunched as he fell into thought, but soon after, an expression of clarity formed on his face and he raised his eyebrows with a soft exclamation. “I see. I see.” The man leaned forward slightly, resting on the counter as if to relieve the stress on his legs. “She’s a pirate,” he said, prompting Elmer to have a scrutinizing look.

Pirate…? Elmer’s curiosity ticked. He had never heard of that term before.

“I know. I know. Not many people know about them. They rarely grace us with their presence in this city as well,” the man said almost immediately as though he had taken note of Elmer’s expression. “After all, they all come from Wyndham. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of pirates hailing from any other of the eleven cities.”

All come from Wyndham…? Elmer immediately unsealed a puzzle box in his head and filled in its pieces.

He had learned that the Ascenders of a pathway were to be in the city bequeathed to the God of that pathway. So if the people bestowed with the term: pirates only lived in the city of Wyndham, then that could only mean one thing. They were Ascenders of the pathway of that city.

“Do you know what God Wyndham is bequeathed to?” Elmer quickly threw a question at the store owner with a raised brow.

“Hmph…” The man glanced up in thought for a brief moment. “Ah, yes. I do. I do. The God of Storms; well, that is if I remember correctly.”

Elmer nodded his head. As he believed the God of Time was the one in control of the laws of time, then the God of Storms was probably a God in control of the seas—so the pirates sailed those seas.

Elmer turned his gaze down to the table, and it was not until the raspy voice of the store owner made its way into his ears did he look up.

“A lot of tales they have, those bunch.” The store owner’s expression had something of a relish for memories as soon as those words left his lips.

“Why was she here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Elmer wondered how it worked in Wyndham and with the pirates. He wondered if being a pirate was the same as becoming a bounty hunter. If all the pirates were Ascenders, or if regular people could become pirates as well. And if it was the former, then why would the pirate lady have stopped here in a city different from her pathway?

Granted, night had not yet fallen, but was it so easy to dock a ship and sail off soon after as it was to make a halted carriage trod off from just a whip of the reins of its pulling horse? Were there more of them and that gave her some sort of safety, or was she just that confident that she could single-handedly take on all the Losts that would probably come after her in the break of dusk?

“Ah, I don’t mind. Came to drop off a book, the lady” the store owner said, snapping Elmer from his mind. “She exchanged it for one of mine. Found it at sea, she said. They find a lot at sea, those pirates. But, she’s not a mere one.” The man pointed at his head, causing Elmer’s brows to squish together. “Did you see her hat? She’s a captain. She leads a ship.” He smiled, but no matter how captivating it might have been, Elmer did not reciprocate.

A captain? A ship? At sea? Elmer was right. They did sail those seas. He had not felt anything different yet in himself, but if Ascenders were really blessed with the power of the God of the Pathway they were in, then Wyndham had to be filled by people with the most remarkable of abilities and vocation.

Pirates sailing the seas they controlled. They were basically the rulers of seventy percent of the world. Was there any ability that could topple theirs?

Elmer almost let the smile he craved form on his face, but that was when he recalled the pathway he was in, and the sort of abilities that he was now a little bit glad he had not yet felt but probably came with it—courtesy of the priests five years ago.

He suddenly became irritated and his nose wrinkled. Finding The Warlock’s Torch would grant him a new pathway—the pathway he wanted—but the fact that no matter what he did he would still have to live with this crest on his chest made his stomach heavy.

Characteristics? That was nonsense. What sort of unique characteristic could he have with such a despicable God who had turned Mabel lifeless? His landlord had just been spitting nonsense.

“Ah, I’m so sorry, sir.” Elmer’s face lightened as he caught sight of the store owner’s apologetic expression. “You must have been caught up in my blabbers.”

Elmer shook his head and waved his hands. “No. Not at all. It was I who asked. There’s no need for you to apologize.”

The man smiled. “If you say so,” he said with a nod of his head. “If you do not mind then, may I ask what you have come for?”

Elmer let out a breath. “I need a book, or a few books.” He took a look around the store, his eyes perusing the scanty and untidied shelves scattered about it. “Do you have anything pertaining to the supernatural?”