Encounter!

Davar House

Emma clutched a stone sculpture, her hands trembling slightly, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she approached Luther.

"Master," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

Luther glanced at the small, peculiar stone figure. It resembled an octopus with a human body, but the pose, it was hard to miss. The thing looked like it was squatting on a toilet. The absurdity of it nearly made him chuckle, though he kept his expression neutral. He was familiar with the Q-version octopus heads that were common in the Twilight Tavern, but this sculpture, with its strange posture, was unlike anything he had seen before.

"Just give it to your friend," Emma continued, her voice a little steadier now, "and let her use her spirit to perceive the sculpture. It will grant any wish."

Luther raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. "Any wish, huh?"

Emma nodded, but there was a shadow in her eyes. "If it hadn't sensed my final wish before I died... if it hadn't allowed my soul to remain in this world for a time, I would never have met you today."

Luther felt a chill run down his spine. The connection between Emma and this sculpture was deeper than he had imagined. He'd seen similar carvings in his travels, but none quite so... unsettling.

"Alright," Luther said, taking the figurine from her hands and slipping it into his pocket. "I'll hold onto it for now."

His mind raced. This thing had ties to Cthulhu, that ancient entity from beyond the seas. Whatever the statue could do, Luther had no intention of letting it fall into the hands of someone like Hailey. The last thing they needed was another incident like the one with Nawasir. While Luther himself was unaffected by the powers of the Old Ones, Hailey was human; fragile, too susceptible to their influence.

Emma stood there, lost in thought, her face flushed. Luther broke the silence with a calm question.

"What do you plan to do to me?"

He regarded her carefully, his tone soft yet firm. "You may be bound to me in name, but I won't cage your freedom."

Emma's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected him to be so... understanding. Her mind raced, replaying the confession she had just blurted out, her first confession ever. Was she being too forward? Would he think she was too eager? Her thoughts tangled in a whirlwind of embarrassment.

"Aaaah!" she screamed internally. "Did I just confess to him?!"

Luther noticed the shift in her demeanor. She was trembling, her head down, shoulders stiff. Was there something wrong?

He stepped forward without hesitation, placing the back of his hand gently against her forehead.

"No fever," he murmured, frowning slightly. "Open your mouth."

Emma blinked, startled, but obediently parted her lips. Luther examined her mouth quickly, his brow furrowing in concentration.

"Nothing unusual there," he muttered, then guided her to turn her head.

She stiffened as he pinched her ear, inspecting her like she was some kind of test subject.

"Relax," he said gently. "It's just a quick check-up. Nothing to worry about."

Emma's mind raced as she tried to make sense of his actions. Was he... checking on her health? Or was there something else? She found herself growing increasingly flustered.

"Does he... prefer younger ones?" she wondered anxiously.

As if to answer her unspoken question, her body began to shrink, subtly at first, but then more noticeably.

Luther's face darkened in exasperation. He had been hoping Emma would remain her usual form for this, but it seemed she was now more... compact. The water-gel-like socks appearing on her legs only confirmed his suspicions.

"Alright, alright," Luther muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Forget it. Let's just go back to the way you were."

Emma, now slightly less embarrassed, relaxed. She was grateful for the reprieve. While a smaller form was cute, she wasn't sure it would be enough to... 'satisfy' Luther.

In the quiet of the room, Emma couldn't help but wonder, did she want to 'satisfy' him?

Luther couldn't help but roll his eyes as he noticed Emma's sudden wave of relief. It was as if her mind had been tangled in knots, and now, with just a simple reassurance, she had untangled it all. 'If only you'd stop overthinking every little thing,' he thought. 'You wouldn't create so many problems in your head.'

But even as he silently chided her, Luther knew better than to speak. Emma's mind seemed to be both simple and complex in equal measure. She was a child in many ways; still grappling with the complexities of the world, perhaps not entirely aware of how to process everything.

His gaze shifted to the body not far away, still cold and lifeless. The person who had passed seemed young, much younger than he would have imagined. 'Maybe their thinking is still stuck at that stage...' Luther thought, his brow furrowing. 'The Lady of the Camellias... she's just a facade. A skin she uses to shield herself from everything else.'

With a quiet sigh, he took in the room, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any clues. That's when he noticed the shovel propped up in the corner.

"Emma," Luther said gently, his voice low but steady. "Do you have any customs for dealing with the dead?"

Emma froze, her eyes flicking from Luther's face to the direction he was looking. As the words sank in, her expression shifted. Her lips quivered, and then, before she could stop herself, tears began to flow again, quiet sobs wracking her small frame.

"It's buried in the cemetery," she whispered, her voice breaking. "My father and mother... their grave is not far from here."

Luther nodded, taking the information in without judgment. There was something about Emma's grief that seemed so raw, so real, yet so complicated.

"Well, then," Luther continued, his tone soft but practical. "Shall we bury your family... your brother's body too?"

Emma's sobs grew louder, her small body trembling with emotion. She dropped to her knees, covering her face with trembling hands, the weight of her loss sinking in deeper.

"Woo woo woo..." She cried quietly, the sound of her sorrow filling the otherwise silent room.

Luther, ever composed, crouched down beside her. He didn't say anything for a moment. Instead, he placed a hand on her head and rubbed it in a comforting gesture, as though trying to convey that she wasn't alone in this.

"Don't worry," Luther said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I'll take care of that beast... that thing you had to call a brother."

Emma nodded weakly, her sobs subsiding as she let the words settle in. A small part of her felt a strange sense of relief, as if Luther's promise had given her some much-needed closure.

---

The port street was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of dim street lamps. A few local residents lingered on the sidewalks, chatting softly about their plans for the future, their voices carrying faintly in the cool evening air. A couple strolled down the street hand in hand, their heads bent close, whispering sweet nothings. In the distance, the sound of children's laughter echoed as they played near the embankment, mischievous little things, stealing candies from couples like little bandits.

Luther, however, was not in the mood for lightheartedness. He pushed a cart down the street, the unpleasant smell wafting from under a black cloth causing people nearby to avoid him. It wasn't clear what exactly was hidden beneath, but the odor alone was enough to make the air feel thick and suffocating.

Emma followed behind him, her head lowered, caught between anxiety and excitement. Her thoughts were a jumble, and she couldn't help but glance at Luther's back every few moments. There was a strange kind of warmth in her chest when she looked at him; an intense, almost overwhelming feeling that made her want to stay close, to follow him no matter where he went. 'As long as I'm alive,' she promised silently, 'I'll follow him. I'll give him everything I have.'

He was so kind, so gentle, too gentle, almost. It felt as if he were a character straight out of one of those perfect novels, the kind of person everyone dreams of meeting. And here she was, walking beside him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Just then, a steam car drove slowly past them, its engine chugging softly. Luther's instincts, sharp as ever, made him turn his head. From the back seat of the car, a dark-skinned man met his gaze. There was that familiar, warm smile on his face, but it was a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Luther looked at the man for only a moment before his focus shifted back to the cart. There was something about the man that didn't sit right with him. But then again, there was always something strange about anyone who drew close to him.

In the car, behind the smiling man, sat another figure. A large, bloated body, its fat rolls spilling out like molten wax, obscuring much of its features. The man's face was a loose, sagging mess of flesh, his mouth stuffed with octopus balls, chewing with exaggerated, almost grotesque motions. Luther squinted at the sight.

'This...' he thought, a slight shiver running through him, 'This is Nawasir? I thought the descriptions were exaggerated... but no. This is real.' He had heard rumors, whispers of the man's appearance, but seeing it for himself, he was stunned by the sheer absurdity. 'How is someone like him a member of parliament?'

Just as he was about to look away, a strange unease crawled down his spine. His eyes flicked back to the dark-skinned man in the car, who was still watching him, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. 'Wait...' Luther thought. 'Was he...'

Before he could complete the thought, his instincts flared, and without thinking, he reached out and grabbed Emma, pulling her back just as she seemed on the verge of a violent outburst.

"Calm down," Luther said, his voice steady, even as his mind raced. "Leave it to me."