《Past's Oracle》


 Episode 1

    Edan¡¯s hand almost slipped as he gripped the bricks. They were smoother than they used to be. Likely replaced, though he couldn''t be sure in the dim light. It was an odd thing to do. The bricks hadn''t been completely broken. The old overseer had never done anything but yell. The new one wanted to replace everything on the upper levels so it looked like the underground. It was like he thought he could fix the place.


    Edan¡¯s foot slipped. He squeaked, gripping the bricks in front of him as his feet scrabbled for purchase. His heart raced quickly, the pounding so loud it resounded in his head. He closed his eyes and ignored it, angry at his own nerves. Edan had almost jumped out of his skin moments before when the ink below gurgled up at him. The technical malfunction had made him think the inky mass was a creature hungry for his flesh. He shook the thought away. Looking up, he mapped his next moves in his mind. Only a few metres to the window. A couple more to grab his file. Then he¡¯d finally be old enough to get out by next winter.


    He craned his neck to see inside. The small room was filled only with filing cabinets. Thankfully lacking any sign that the overseer had even been in that day. His desk and chair were shoved into the corner, stacked atop each other precariously. The latch broke open with the slightest pressure. He vaulted through the window.


    It wasn¡¯t a rare thing for one¡¯s age to suddenly change between one day and the next. When the mandates changed everyone seemed to get a little older. Edan became fourteen when new rules forbid anyone younger from working complex machinery. He preferred the screaming of his long-suffering lift to the invading stink of the garbage piles Colin so often smelled of. He wouldn¡¯t let the rules take his job from him, and he wouldn¡¯t let them take away his freedom either. It wasn¡¯t like the climb was more treacherous than the chimneys. Or any more likely to get you into trouble. The new overseer wasn¡¯t in his office far more than he was.


    Even Colin - straight laced as he was - had a different birthday by the time the war ended. Colin had almost fallen straight into the ink on the way down too. Edan knew he went because he despised the growing age difference. Colin had decided long ago that two years was already far too much.


    Colin would have to come back if he had a problem with it. They wouldn¡¯t be able to leave the country if every document said Edan was only eighteen.


    Edan ran to the nearest cabinet, pulling at the drawer. It didn¡¯t give. He pulled again. The whole thing rattled and the noise made him flinch, even though he knew that he was most definitely alone. Dang it. Locked. He climbed back out the window, thoughts turning.


    The old overseer had never locked it. He¡¯d been a fool too stuck in his rules to realise how many of his workers had been disobeying them. He¡¯d never fixed anything. Never changed anything. Edan had been fine with that, and so had everyone else. They hadn¡¯t noticed that he¡¯d been missing for weeks until the new one arrived in his perfect suit and tie, a smile sickly sweet as the mix of perfumes forced into the ink before packaging. And now that man had manage to trap him here. Him and Colin. Because of stupid magic and stupid rules. Edan imagined the man¡¯s smile turning sour as ink stained his perfect white suit.


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    The way down was easier than the way up, even when he came to the corner and had to be extra careful not to slip. When he reached shore he felt for the ground with his foot, not wanting to lessen his grip to allow himself to see what was below him. But then he got careless. As his confidence grew, he pushed away from the wall. His hand slipped. It was barely a second, but in that second he swore that his life flashed before him all at once. But he knew that he was just was too late. His foot had dipped in. Only briefly, but the tip of his shoe had touched the ink and the boiling liquid had soaked through. He practically fell onto concrete as the searing pain began. Wasn¡¯t a good shoe. Awful material. Designed for standing around. Not designed for a dip in the ink. He cursed his own stupidity. Almost deliriously, he considered designing a new shoe himself. He knew that wasn¡¯t a possibility. No fabric he made came close to being as resistant as he needed. He glared at the black sea before him. His hand had onlyjusthealed.


    Edan forced himself to his feet. He winced, but managed. He wasn¡¯t telling Colin. Colin hated him going near the ink. Sometimes Edan wondered who exactly was the older one. He leaned against the wall and tugged at his hair. He really was a crap brother.


    He looked up at the building. Leaned up just so the back of his head hit against the uneven bricks. It looked harder to climb when you weren¡¯t on it. It wasn¡¯t even really a building. More like a pillar. It held up the roof so that it wouldn¡¯t cave in and fall straight on the product. The two pillars on land had been repurposed, with the first serving as a base for important staff and the second being used to prop up new metal platforms where more crates of raw material could be stored until taken down for processing. Edan was sure he would have felt awed by them if the lake were not there. Its presence seared itself too much in his mind to focus on anything else.


    The chimneys were there too of course. Big holes in the ceiling. Some over the metal ground and some over the lake. There were tracks underneath them made of skinny metal poles. A platform slid across them so that they could be reached and cleaned of any detritus. Only the ones over land ever were. The possibility of a malfunction loomed too heavy. No one wanted to fall into the ink. It was why the new overseer was putting up new security everywhere but around the ink. He didn¡¯t need to worry about anyone breaking rules in its vicinity.


    Edan jumped as he heard the tell-tale clink of machinery. He hadn¡¯t taken a watch with him. The growing noise told him that working hours were approaching. He could have cursed. Sometimes he forgot that time moved forward even as he was stuck standing frozen with thoughts chasing his mind in circles. He ran across to the stairs. No one used them anymore. They sat in the corner, entirely obscured by boxes. He had to climb over a few to come to the entryway. The stairs spiralled downward into darkness, small lights the only thing to light his path. He grimaced as his foot twinged terribly on cue. As another clink sounded, closer this time, he fled.

 Episode 2

    Edan¡¯s descent was slow, and that was only partially because the stairs were only barely tolerable. The new management likely wouldn¡¯t fix them. No one expected them to. It wasn¡¯t their fault the stairs were built faulty.


    The factory was said to have once been a temple. A marvel of humanity and nature ¨C cavernous and impossible as a trip to the sun. The stairs were the only thing that remained from the old building. Everything else had been covered and modified beyond recognition. It was for the best, the first management had reasoned. Such a place could never reside in an era not built for it. In an era no longer built for magic and all its inherent mystery. Edan had arrived only a few years after the transformation. He¡¯d hardly mourned for the place that once was.


    He reached the D floor slowly. His hesitance to get to his floor wasn¡¯t only because of the stairs¡¯ poor make. Colin would likely be waiting for him. Colin was never tolerable of his brother¡¯s late night wanderings. Colin couldn¡¯t understand him. Edan knew Colin never would.


    Edan walked down the last few steps. The E door stood before him. He hesitated. Tensed. Prepared himself for Colin¡¯s face to greet him the moment he swung the door open. The door groaned as pressed against it. The corridor beyond was bare, without a single door visible in the dim light. The effect was intentional. All the lower floors were made up of illusions and corridors indistinguishable from each other. It was meant to keep magicians out. Only managed to keep everyone confused.


    Edan walked carefully. Then he ran straight to his room. He pushed through the burn¡¯s yelling in his haste to get inside. It was only a single minute to five am. A single minute until the room¡¯s bell rung and Colin would be woken from his slumber. Edan tripped over his foot and almost slammed into the door. The doorknob was small, but the small seven in its centre gave it away. He grinned his triumph-


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    The door swung open.


    Colin grabbed him and yanked him inside. A yell bubbled within him. He fought to hold his silence. Edan bit his lip so hard it almost bled. Colin dragged him to the bottom bunk. Every contorted grunt was silenced before Edan could make much more than a squeak.


    The room was tiny, even by factory standards. Bathroom, bunk bed, dresser, clock, bell. That was all you needed to sleep. The rest could be done in work time. Colin sat him down and ran to the bathroom. Edan heard him filling something with water.


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t use that. We¡¯ll need it later.¡± Edan yelled.


    Colin came back with the laundry bucket. He just glared. Edan looked away as his younger brother lifted his injured foot into it. Edan hissed as the burn hit cold water. He didn¡¯t say another word. They¡¯d always preferred to do their own laundry. Everyone knew the kids that did it had no clue how to clean anything properly. Colin would blame him for his uniform smelling like feet later.


    ¡°What did you do.¡± Colin said.


    Edan looked determinedly at the clock. Only a few more seconds. He looked down at Colin, who was sitting on the floor cross-legged.


    ¡°Changing my birthday.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡± Colin let out a laugh. Edan didn¡¯t


    Colin¡¯s face contorted. After a pause, Colin spoke.


    ¡°We¡¯re not kids anymore. We can¡¯t do stuff like that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t get caught.¡± Edan said.


    ¡°But you might.¡±


    ¡°Does that matter?¡±


    Another silence. Edan usually didn¡¯t mind silences. This one felt like boiling acid. The kind that leaves more than just a burn.


    ¡°It won¡¯t land me in jail.¡± Edan said, not believing himself for a second.


    ¡°No,¡± Colin said. Edan began to relax-


    ¡°You¡¯ll be imprisoned for less.¡±


    Edan¡¯s eyes widened to an expression of mock horror. Colin didn¡¯t smile. Edan swallowed. His expression contorted as he tried to stand.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡± Colin said, eyes almost pleading. Edan couldn¡¯t look at him.


    Colin grabbed his arm as Edan pulled his foot from the bucket.


    ¡°We can wait another year.¡± Colin said. Edan shook him off.


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    The bell rang. Edan left the room.


    Neither noticed that a single minute had lasted three.

 Episode 3

    Edan was almost three minutes late.


    He sprinted to the staircase and flew downwards. He opened the very next door. The floor was larger than the previous, though it didn¡¯t seem it. It was crushed under the floors above, the ever increasing folds mashed into each wall panel the only reminder. For the amount of people walking through ¨C for the amount of machinery ¨C the height was ridiculous. Edan himself could reach the roof without the aid of a single crate. The height was partially why Edan knew what big trouble he was in.


    He followed the hallways onward. It was like the residential floors. A maze. Made by idiots wanting to fool a foe they did not know the weaknesses of. He grumbled his way through. The oppressive heat pooled at his neck. He spread it in the hopes of some relief. Five minutes made such a difference. It was suspicious to be out of residential before the bell. Practically negligent to still be inside a second later. Edan found it strange that he was late. He could have sworn he left as much time as he did the day before. He mustn¡¯t have. The halls were crowded. Already warmed as waning furnaces were rekindled. That was proof of his carelessness.


    A trolley hurtled through an open door. Edan leapt out of the way, chest heaving as Pat¡¯s face met him. Pat was a newbie and therefore gullible beyond saving.


    ¡°You¡¯re late.¡± Pat said.


    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡±


    ¡°No. Not that.¡± She clarified, pointing down at her ruined shirt. ¡°You haven¡¯t given me my new one.¡±


    ¡°Then pay me.¡± Edan said.


    ¡°You owe me. I gave you soap last summer.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t owe you anything.¡± He tried to wave her away. She was wasting precious seconds.


    ¡°I can get you fabric. Anything you need.¡± Pat tried, blocking any hope of escape with her large trolley of flame cores. She wasn¡¯t just blocking his way, but that of everyone in the near vicinity. Flame cores were needed everywhere, and the train only brought a couple thousand each day. She was wasting everyone¡¯s time.


    ¡°A couple extra cores and I might say yes¡­¡± Edan began.


    He wedged his right foot into one of the trolley wheel¡¯s hubcaps. Relief crossed her face. He took her distraction as a signal. He vaulted across the trolley, grabbing a core as he passed. He¡¯d forgotten to grab his core slip in his rush to leave the apartment. He tried to use his left foot to push himself farther. He failed, almost crumpling as he half fell to the trolley¡¯s other side. He stood, smiling back at Pat and the small crowd her blockage had formed.


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    ¡°¡­but I want it by Friday.¡±


    Edan nodded his head at her, eyebrow partially raised. Pat inclined her head a fraction. He spun on his right heel, making sure to limp quickly so no one would spot his limp. He felt bad for her. Everyone knew that stealing cores was grounds to get you fired. Movers like her wouldn¡¯t even get a hearing if a single one went missing. He rounded the corner, tossing the core in the air before catching it. He did what he had to do. It wasn¡¯t like anyone else had been any kinder to him when he was left at the gates.


    Edan reached his lift in due time. It was crammed into a corner. Crates were waiting for him. They filled the space, towering. Only a few workers had remained to help load them. They all glared daggers at him. He was sure some of them were happy he was late. They didn¡¯t want him fired, but they didn¡¯t want him promoted either. Not that he really could be. The lifts were important, and he had training.


    Edan walked slowly to the metal box. It was inset into the wall, but still a large safety hazard. The moment the lift rose a hole was left leading straight from the top to the bottom of the facility. He¡¯d climbed it a few times. It was too wide for the lift. He could climb it easily as long as he was careful. The moment he tried to move faster, his limp resurfaced, making him trip over himself. He wouldn¡¯t be able to climb it in this state. The position needed to shimmy up it would do more harm to his busted foot than climbing the shaft was fun.


    Edan stepped over the gap between building and box. He was acutely aware of the eyes on his back. They wouldn¡¯t move in until the elevator was started. He lined the core up with its hole. It was a small wooden cylinder. Edan had no clue what was inside. Only that it made fires burn and elevators move for only a few precious hours. He jammed it in and the elevator groaned to life. He closed his eyes, smiling. He loved his stupid machine. Others found the things to be unnerving. The workers outside obviously didn¡¯t. The moment the boxes¡¯ glass veins began flowing with orange life, boxes were flung in. Edan flinched as glass clinked against glass. He didn¡¯t want ink spilling all over the floor. The ink collectors wouldn¡¯t either. They had to stand there for hours waiting for ink to drip into their glasses. The faucets were located on the ceiling, and almost consistently faulty. It didn¡¯t help the collectors had to stand right beside the furnaces. No one had thought to place them apart. He¡¯d been yelled at enough times to know they took broken bottles seriously enough to call management. Edan opened his mouth to remind the workers of that very fact. He closed it as another couple of boxes were thrown in, successfully blocking his view and filling his lift.


    Edan pushed the lever ¨C a rusty thing located next to the power core ¨C and waited for the lift to rise. With one hand still on the lever, he leant against the wall. It brought little solace from the burning pain in his foot. He didn¡¯t change positions for another seven hours.