N I C H O L A S

The sky tore the night apart to make way for a burning twilight. Nicholas had woken up long before dawn, taking his rental bicycle and riding the familiar path down to the coast.

When he reached Mr. Elmore's cottage, Nicholas began to walk over the door and knock, but he stopped when he saw the old man standing by the shore in the distance. With his trousers rolled up and his bare feet buried deep into the sand, Mr. Elmore stood facing the heaving sea. He had his hands laced behind his back, and his eyes were fixed upon the golden sun that rose from its bed in the horizon.

Without turning his head away from the dark blue waves, Mr. Elmore said, "I'm impressed. You're on time."

Nicholas took this as his cue to walk toward the man, a little smile stretched upon his forever-cheerful lips.

"Lovely morning, isn't it?" said Nicholas, a little dimple appearing across his cheek.

"It always is," said Mr. Elmore, finally turning his face to Nicholas after a while. "Come with me."

Without asking any questions or speaking a single word, Nicholas followed him inside his cottage. Mr. Elmore then walked into the kitchen, filling his old kettle with water and placing it on the stove. While waiting for the water to boil, he went and flung open the house's shutters one by one.

"Tea?" Mr. Elmore offered, going back into the kitchen.

"Oh, yes please." Nicholas nodded delightfully, watching the old man as he took two cups out of the cupboard.

"I read your poems and stories," he said while preparing the tea, but Nicholas couldn't tell from Mr. Elmore's tone whether he was impressed or disappointed. "Your notebook's on the table near the window, over there."

Nicholas went over the table and grabbed his notebook. Once he opened it, his stomach leaped with excitement when he saw that Mr. Elmore had he had scratched out the words he'd thought weren't suitable, underlined the parts that were good, and had even written additional notes on the margins on how it could get better.

"I wrote with a pencil, in case you wanted to erase them," Mr. Elmore explained, carrying two cups of tea out of the kitchen.

Nicholas stood frozen on the spot, not believing his eyes. When he looked up at Mr. Elmore again, he couldn't wipe away his smile.

"This means so much to me," he almost mumbled, looking up at him with stars in his eyes. "Thank you."

"What can I say? Your little speech moved me," Mr. Elmore said tonelessly, handing one of the cups to Nicholas before sitting down on his usual armchair beside the window.

He then gestured at Nicholas to take a seat on the armchair next to his. Nicholas took a sip of the tea after sitting down, but he almost spat it out back into the cup when his tongue burned.

"Now tell me, Nicholas Pierce," Mr. Elmore casually took a sip of his tea as if it weren't hot at all, before continuing, "why do you write?"

"Because it's my greatest passion in life."

Mr. Elmore gave a small shake of his head. "Not good enough. You're a writer, so use your words better. Now try again."

Nicholas thought more about it this time, warming his hands as he wrapped them around the hot cup in his lap. He stared down at his own reflection, locked inside the blackness of the tea.

It took him almost a minute until he spoke again. "Oscar Wilde wrote, 'she lives the poetry she cannot write'. But I feel like I'm the opposite. I write the poetry I cannot live. Because that's the magic of writing. With only a pen and paper in hand, I can travel the world. I can be a powerful king in a faraway land, or even a dangerous pirate in a crooked ship. I can be whoever and wherever I want to be. I can be unstoppable. Invincible."

His answer must've satisfied Mr. Elmore, because he placed down his cup of tea on the table before them and turned to face Nicholas, saying, "Frankly, I liked your writing. Perhaps I had been too quick to judge. I can't deny your potential, but it still has a lot of room to grow. And I might be able to help you with that."

***

Nicholas hadn't known why Mr. Elmore had asked him to go there at such an early hour, but despite how serious and cranky the old man was, Nicholas still enjoyed spending the extra hours in his company.

They went through Nicholas's notebook together, flipping through each page as Mr. Elmore explained how he could improve the writing in each part, better than any teacher Nicholas ever had.

He wondered to himself about why Walter Elmore had only written one book and then completely disappeared, but he didn't dare to ask. Perhaps it was too personal. But he couldn't understand how a skillful and brilliant author such as him had chosen this life for himself.

At noon, Nicholas thanked the old man again and bid him goodbye, and Mr. Elmore asked him to come again next Saturday as well, at this same hour. He made Nicholas promise to write a short story this time, keeping in mind all the advice he had given him.

Even after hours, Nicholas still felt excited whenever he thought about their next week's session, already trying to come up with an idea for his short story. He wanted to impress Mr. Elmore.

"John Carter's case continues," Isaac read the newspapers' headline as the five of them were gathered in their parlor that night, snapping Nicholas out of his thoughts.

"I read that one today," said Arthur, blowing out the smoke of his pipe. "Carter pleaded not guilty. He wouldn't confess to anything. But his parents didn't agree to bail him out of jail. They said they wouldn't be supporting him financially."

"But why not?" Nicholas asked.

"John's father is the chief secretary to the Treasury," Luca explained gloomily. "I suppose it would ruin their reputation if they helped their son who allegedly murdered someone."

Isaac sighed deeply, folding the newspaper and tossing it on the wooden table around which they were gathered, smoking pipe.

"Maybe we should write about this in our paper. It would sell better," Arthur said thoughtfully. "Remember how many copies we sold the first few weeks after Carter's arrest?"

"But we've already written tomorrow's draft!" Shawn threw his head back in exhaustion. "That way we'll have to start all over!"

"I agree with Arthur. We should find something better to write. But maybe for next week," said Nicholas, getting up to his feet with a little grin and straightened his coat's collar. "I have a date tonight."

"Oooh!" Arthur and Luca said teasingly and Shawn wolf-whistled, while Isaac sniggered.

"Going on late night rendezvous, I see." Arthur smirked, checking his antique pocket watch. "It's half-past-eleven."

"Not only that, but also early morning rendezvous," Shawn said with a sly grin. "He was gone before I'd even woken up."

"Oooooh!" they all said in sync, louder this time.

"It's not what you think!" Nicholas smacked Shawn at the back of his head, laughing along. "I didn't go to see Eve this morning."

Shawn raised his brows mischievously. "Are you saying that you're dating two girls now?"

"No! It wasn't like that at all!" Nicholas face-palmed in annoyance. "I went to visit Walter Elmore."

"Who?" Arthur mused.

"Walter Horace Elmore?" Luca repeated in shock, his eyes widening. "You went to see W.H. Elmore?"

"Who are we talking about, exactly?" Isaac questioned.

"W.H. Elmore! The author of Nevermore!" Luca said excitedly. "That's one of the best books I've ever read in my life! I picked it up years ago in my father's library. I've read it many times. Niko, are you sure it was really him, though? I've heard that he died years ago."

"He's very much alive," said Nicholas, grinning. "Listen, I'll explain everything tomorrow. I promise. But I really need to go now."

"Fine. But you're not allowed to leave a single detail behind!" Luca pointed a finger at him warningly, making him chuckle.

"Deal," said Nicholas.