Panting, Elmer jumped down from the public carriage he had boarded, putting his brown lace-up boots onto the granite sett pavement that made up the ground, before quickly dropping the twenty pence he had readied into the coachman’s palm.
“Thank you,” he muttered hurriedly as he bowed and turned away from the carriage, taking himself from the warmth of the balmy sun high up in the sky and in through the door of the Glowing Eye bureau’s building.
He had sworn to himself when he had woken up that he would never again deprive himself of most of his sleep as he had done for the past three days. The decision he had made to cheat nature and focus on fully translating the journal had almost thrown his plans into a scamper.
“I leave by 2:00 P.M.” Those were the words that had rampaged through his head when he’d gazed out of his window to glimpse the sun cozily situated in the vast blue above. And after them played another which reminded him of what day it currently was, and what he was to receive at something of an isolated building in the colorful world that was the Foreign District.
Elmer had forsaken his bath because of that, and as well Mabel’s.
He had had little choice in that regard. It had been either he went about it that way, or he risked missing out on the clerk of the bounty hunters bureau.
And now that he had rushed into the building and caught sight of what Ms. Edna Smyth was up to, he solidified that he really would have missed out on her if he had taken even a brief moment to consider having his bath.
Ms. Edna Smyth was dressed in a ginger lace blouse with long sleeves, along with a shin length button-front black skirt which was held in place by thin suspenders of the same color that went over her slender shoulders.
She was standing elegantly at the edge of her desk neatly arranging a bunch of papers together. And if it had been any other time but now Elmer would have thought she was just going on with her work as a clerk, but the small Gladstone bag opened up on the desk made him believe otherwise.
The sound of the door shutting echoed through the fairly empty building and Ms. Edna’s hands—which were clutching the stack of papers she had arranged—seized in the air as she wasted no time turning her face to Elmer where he had come to a halt just a few steps into the room. While her lips remained shut, her silent eyes placed behind rectangular-framed spectacles perused what was of him for quite some seconds.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Elmer,” Ms. Edna finally spoke after suddenly clearing her throat. “You look quite…” She trailed off, leaving her words hanging for a while that Elmer felt she might never come to complete what she was trying to say.
And in truth, there was no need for her to say it, he knew how he looked. His sleeves were unbuttoned, his hair was rough, his brown boots were unpolished, and his shirt, which was halfway tucked into his black pants, clung to his body in a messy manner due to the river of sweat that had accumulated from the unrelenting sprints he had undergone to find a carriage quickly.
If not for his suspenders there would have been nothing separating him from a societal class lower than that of the peasants—the homeless class.
In truth, it was a fitting enough penalty for him allowing such a mishap on his part.
“Well,” Ms. Edna shrugged her gaze away from him as she went ahead to dip the stacked papers into her bag. “That could also be classified as a refined way to look if you think about it in a different way.” She brought out a silver pocket watch and flicked it open. “Also, you’re late, Mr. Elmer. I get off from work in about five minutes.” She closed the watch and put it back beneath her bag before fastening its buckles. “I better give you your license then. I’m sure we both share the same feeling of not wanting to be kept waiting?”
Elmer closed his eyes and heaved out a deep breath before nodding. “Pardon my lateness,” he apologized.
“Ah, no need to dwell on it.” Ms. Edna had already gone ahead to pull open one of the drawers carved into her desk to fumble with its contents. “I just need to give you your license and we’ll both be on our ways.”
Elmer shook his head in secrecy from her gaze.
While he had been translating the journal he had also been taking some moments off to prepare a few questions he wanted to ask the clerk who served the bounty hunters.
There was a lot he didn’t know about the world of Ascenders—in fact, there was nothing he knew, and the journal he had read had only worsened that part of his life. It was impossible for him to leave the building without getting even a little bit of answers to quell his raging curiosity.
And… he wanted to take a job as well.
“I’d hope you could spare me a little bit more time,” Elmer let his thoughts loose, and he glimpsed Ms. Edna shudder into a halt of her fumbles with the desk’s drawer.
She scoffed before resuming what she was doing. “I’m sorry, Mr. Elmer, but whatever you need will have to wait until another day.”
“It can’t,” Elmer told her, determined tone and all. “I want to take a job right now.”
Ms. Edna rose from her bent over position behind the desk holding a dark brown envelope and sent her gaze through the distance between them, putting it on him.
“This will be your first day as a bounty hunter, and one with no experience at that, do you really want to take on a job so early?”
There was no need for her to try to stop him using the ‘lack of experience’ tactic. What he had written in the data form was wrong, he had experience—a few, if he was being correct. And even if he didn’t, what difference would waiting a day, a week, or even a month longer make? Experience came from experiencing things, sitting idly waiting for experience to come knocking was just the way of a fool.
He was not a fool.
“Yes,” he told Ms. Edna.
Elmer had been keeping his distance from her because he had not taken his bath, and he did not want to force her nose shut with whatever odor he might be giving off as a result. But now, he had little care for that.
He took himself closer and stopped just a few steps away from the desk so she could see whatever determination he had in his eyes. “I’d love to take on a job.”
Ms. Edna sighed while shaking her head. “Do you know how tired you look, Mr. Elmer? You have bags beneath your eyes, dark ones. You probably didn’t even get enough sleep, and you want to take on a job?”
“I do.”
“Do you know what casualties—”
“Is this some sort of protocol?” Elmer cut through Ms. Edna’s words. “Something you have to recite to me before I get to take on a job?”
Her eyes twitched, and she pinched them shut for a moment. “No,” she told him. “Not at all.”
Elmer knew that. He had just wanted her to stop trying to talk him out of it like she was his mother. He had none, and he wanted none. If only his chest did not suddenly ache slightly in disagreement with him.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“Then,” he huffed away the tender pang in his heart, “if you don’t mind giving me the license and letting me take a job?” He took a last step forward and put himself just before the desk.
From the hesitant but silent expression plastered over Ms. Edna’s face, Elmer surmised that she would have no choice but to adhere.
She was probably filled with the thought of rejecting his request once again, but the same mind that gave her that thought would also be conflicting it by telling her that he would not let her be if she did not let him take the job. And in return, keeping her here for far longer than she might have expected before he had walked in through the door.
Ms. Edna had always seemed to Elmer as a person with fair etiquette who would obviously value her time tremendously, so he had little doubt that she would not choose the option to drag this out any longer.
He had that surety.
“Alright.” Ms. Edna sighed and fell down to the chair behind the desk, affirming Elmer’s surety. “Go over to that board and pick the job you want, your license will be waiting for you when you return.” She gestured with her brows at the wooden board that stood at the other end of the room opposite them. Elmer spared it no glance though. He already had the job he wanted in mind.
“Is it still available?” he said. “Lev’s job posting?”
Ms. Edna, who was already unfastening the thread used to seal the envelope she held, shot her eyes crowned by furrowed thin eyebrows at him immediately.
“You are quite persistent, aren’t you, Mr. Elmer?” She scoffed. “I would never have expected you to return with hopes that it would still be available. But yes. Yes it is—luckily for you.” The envelope’s thread fell onto the desk, and she pulled out two papers, one seemingly a written document of some sort, and the other a small pristine white cardstock paper a little bit less than the size of her palm—and her palm was small.
The cardstock paper had two emblems embedded side-by-side in red on it. To the left was the eye logo that Elmer felt represented The Glowing Eye bureau, while to the right was an irregular circular clock with one hand pointing upwards.
His brow’s caved in at that.
Elmer now remembered that apart from the certification form he had filled, he had also seen that emblem carved into the pillars of the gate of the Atkinson’s abandoned fishpond he had visited with the good Sir Eli.
He had suspected at Hanky’s bakery that it signified the Church of Time, but what better moment to confirm his thoughts than now when he had successfully held back Ms. Edna from leaving—which was in truth the other reason he had requested for a job.
He wanted his questions answered, even if a few, and there was no way he was going to let her leave before he got some.
Elmer was about to speak one of those questions, but the clerk, who was filled with a mellow ambience, had the opportunity to let her lips loose first.
“Here,” she turned the paper document she had brought out of the envelope to him, then slid a small wooden box of inkwell closer from the edge of the desk. “It’s a form to affirm that you’ve received your license. Put your fingerprint there.” She tapped her forefinger on an empty box at the end of the paper.
Elmer sighed, then smeared his thumb with the red ink of the inkwell. He was almost keeping himself quiet, but then his mind whirled to the reality that Ms. Edna had fallen silent and he now had the chance to lay bare his questions.
As Elmer sent his thumb down onto the empty box at the end of the form, he asked, “That clock seal,” he gestured with his chin at the jagged clock emblem on the cardstock paper laid bare on the desk when Ms. Edna looked up at him, “what is it?”
Ms. Edna sucked in air through her teeth with a grimace and shook her head in something that Elmer felt was disappointment. “I know you’re from the countryside, Mr. Elmer, and you’ve been a non-worshipper all your life,” she said with a strict tone, “but you’re in the city of Ur now as an Ascender of the Pathway of Time. You know what that means, don’t you?”
Elmer closed his eyes and nodded. “I do.” And as well he already knew what she was getting at. She needn’t say anything more, his thoughts for what the seal meant had already been confirmed.
But she continued nonetheless, as he had not made his mind known to her. “If you do, then I suggest you refrain from such…” She halted briefly in between her talk, squinting her eyes placed behind rectangular lenses shortly after. “Have you attended any worship at the Church yet?”
The edge of Elmer’s right eye twitched. He was to lie here, probably, but he knew his hesitation had already given Ms. Edna her answer when he saw her slide a palm across her temples with a sigh.
“Are you done with that?” She pointed at the form his thumb was still being pressed firmly upon, and when he nodded she took it back from him. “Attend all Sunday worship, Mr. Elmer, and read the Doctrine. Ever since the Crest of Time showed up on your chest you’ve become a devout believer of Lord Chronos, you shouldn’t keep walking about knowing nothing of the God you now serve. It taints the name of the Church.”
Elmer had only ever seen two Doctrines in his life—from a far distance, in truth. One was the Doctrine of Earth and the other the Doctrine of Light. They had been owned by the only two children at the orphanage who had hailed from cities.
When Sunday worship came, most of the waifs just prayed to no divine being in particular. But those two had been different. They had Gods they served and prayed to, and it always showed in their Sunday conducts. Refined and devout, that was how they always looked on those days, while the rest of them just mumbled nonsense to pass the time—he and Mabel were no different. And even now he would still be no different, not after the sort of dirty things the Gods were involved with.
Still, he wondered what was written inside a doctrine. As he had never gotten close to those children—he had gotten close to basically no one at the orphanage—he had missed out on reading one. But he knew he had to keep that curiosity caged somewhere in his mind, for he had not the money to spare for purchasing a Doctrine.
“I will,” Elmer’s nose twitched twice as he gave an answer to Ms. Edna’s words of advice. He hated that instinctive action.
“And… I’ve overstayed,” Ms. Edna grumbled in a soft, refined manner as she brought out her pocket watch from her bag and flipped it open. “I’ll let you have your job now. You’ve kept me here for more than I should be staying. No one is going to pay for my overtime.”
Is that why she’s always eager to leave…? Because she doesn’t get paid for overtime…?
Elmer almost had a laugh, but he was significantly tired to even attempt such. Although, it was quite funny to him. For a woman with such an ambience, he would not have been expecting her to be so glued to the thought of money.
It seemed everyone in Ur loved money, even Chronos himself.
Ms. Edna pushed across the desk to Elmer the pristine white cardstock paper with the emblems of the Glowing Eye bureau and the Church of Time as she said, “Your license. You are now a bounty hunter.” After those words she quickly leaned sideways and pulled open the last drawer of the desk as Elmer took hold of his license, sturdy and smooth as it was.
Ms. Edna straightened and called Elmer’s eyes from the scrutinizing stare he had placed on his license by sliding the paper she had brought out toward him.
“Mr. Elmer,” she said immediately, her voice taking on a stronger tone as though she was about to give him a serious caution. “Once you sign this agreement, you are bound to your employer to make sure you carry out your job without failure. Forty percent of the full payment will be offered to you once you sign, and the rest will be received from your employer once the job has been completed. Take note that the Glowing Eye bureau only serves as a third party between you, the bounty hunter, and your employer, and will in no way be involved in any casualties that might occur from the job you have taken.”
She breathed out as though she had just relieved her chest of a heavy burden. Elmer was not surprised, she had been talking fairly fast, but he was astounded that the Glowing Eye bureau was trying to separate itself from whatever job it connected a bounty hunter to.
Elmer had a first guess that it was probably just to avoid incurring losses from a bounty hunter dying or bailing out on a hard mission and causing them to have to settle the employer for such a setback, or something of a similar nature.
But he could not stop another thought, a more sinister thought that went with how the supernatural operated, that there was some deeper reason for their dissociation.
“Now,” Ms. Edna resumed, taking Elmer away from his mind. “I’ll brief you on what the job entails so that you may take a moment to consider if you really want to bind yourself to such a job. Remember, we have other job postings. If this one does not suit your tastes, or you feel it’s too risky, then you are allowed to pick another.”
This was not the same as last time. She was not trying to talk him out of taking a job. This was pure protocol. But then, why did it seem like a warning?
“On Monday at noon, Mr. Levi Harold put up a low grade job offer, stating his need to have the curse that keeps haunting his nights exorcised. Is this a job that is within your range of expertise, Mr. Elmer, or would you prefer to take on a different sort?”
She had said all that, but Elmer’s ears had long gone closed after the word ‘exorcised’ had made its way into them. And, as well, his eyes had squeezed then, still not loosening up even now. He was not sure if he had heard correctly.
Lev… is cursed…?