“Where do they come from?”
As to be expected, Emil talked to himself aloud whenever he encountered the dreaded writer’s block. He often wondered where his muse was and how he could make her come at once to save him from feeling depressed.
Hope heard THE question a million times, from all humans she had the pleasure to inspire and motivate so they could overcome their own personal emotional and psychological battles. Unfortunately, even if she could explain her origin, it was not as important as to her objective.
She possessed the power to influence but not necessarily to make her proteges succeed. That part was reserved for them individually: strive or deteriorate. It was a risk any muse has to face.
Feeling abandoned one time, Emil caught the wrong solution to idleness. His writing left on the side, he sought quick fixes on the Net, checking sites that fitted the plan he was about to embark upon. He needed the shortcut to fame, without the long hours of thinking for plots and longer hours of writing the stories.
When Hope came back, he was already deep in a quagmire, enraging all sorts of people from various parts of the world. His exploits were considered unforgivable, lesser in weight than treason but similarly detestable.
“Stop it, Emil!” she entered his subconscious. “What you’re doing is not fair!”
He could have heard her but his mind was too busy contriving ideas that were not his. To make detection difficult, he created fictitious names, females all, attributing his work as theirs.
“The Net is so huge that I could get away with this,” he boasted loudly.
“Go back to your true self!” she insisted. “Continue what you began.”
But Emil was too engrossed at his scheme. His doubts on muses grew that in time he discarded her whispering as a passing thought.
Hope knew that Emil’s wrongdoing would not go unpunished. There would be complications. There would be penalties.
She felt it coming when the ramblings of other muses were aired openly. They confronted her, gave her ultimatums and warned her that her failure would result in dire consequences.
Emil was unstoppable. He could not be turned back easily: he lost his will to be creative.
Hope could not have guessed that her kind would act unilaterally without giving her all the chances she needed. She just discovered they made Emil pay for his transgressions: his life was taken away.
The rule was clear: inspire humans for life, not for death. They took the exception and earned Hope’s ire.
But even in her sorrow for her protege’s death, she wanted his original work continued, that perhaps another human could be inspired to finish it.
Hope saw him come as she hovered near Emil’s body. She could feel his intensity, his dedication to his job, his secret longings and everything he wishes for the future.
How could she influence his interest in Emil’s life? She believed that once he closed Emil’s case as unsolved, he would move on to another.
In a twist of fate, Hope sensed a human in distress, somewhere near, needing assistance to prolong one’s existence. It was her chance: two objectives to be solved in a single feat.
Harnessing her power of absolute influence, she called the spirit of the distressed man to inhabit Emil’s body temporarily, creating an illusion that would inspire curiosity on her next protege.
It worked out accordingly.
(to be continued)