《Ultimatum》


 Prologue

    "You have the worst sense of timing, do you know that?" asked Mother Harlot as the spider would greet the fly.


    With a double tap of his cane against the damp cave floor, its echoes ringing out in the cavernous tunnel, the tall Dandy Man, all dressed in white, his shadow long and drawn to meet with the caves'' shade, shielding Mother Harlot from the rays of sunlight replied, "Time is irrelevant, you know that."


    There was a moment of silence in which not even the wind dared interrupt their exchange of breath. From deep within the cave where light could not penetrate, a droplet of water fell from a stalactite onto a forming stalagmite with the sound of an ocean falling from the sky. Mother Harlot sighed, curling up into a tighter ball upon the floor. "Is it really time once again?"


    "Yes, of course," the Dandy Man said, tapping his cane twice again as if impatient ¨C as if that were something he could be. "You will play your part as you are given it, as I will play mine. That''s how it is, and how it always shall be."


    The Dandy Man turned his back and stepped as if to exit the cave, three legs ¨C two natural and one artificial ¨C thundering nosily against the cave walls. Mother Harlot stirred from her spot on the floor as the Tall Man''s shadow drew away from her, her malformed body pushing itself up into something of a sitting position, her gaze turned towards the mouth of the cave where the high sun''s light bled in from the world outside, blinding to behold. "Suppose I were to end our part here and now, for such insolence? Would you and your master still have a part to play for me?" she inquired testily, thoughts of tossing the Dandy Man''s body from atop her mountainous domain down into the valley below filling her mind momentarily.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    The Dandy Man stopped and paused, turning his head towards her without turning around or even fully looking back at her. "Yes, he would, as would I," he informed her, reaching into his inner breast pocket and pulling out an old pocket watch, flicking it open and glancing at the hands on its face, immobile and urgent. "I must be off. Things are about to begin again."


    "Fine, go! Leave me here to fulfill my function!" Mother Harlot huffed, her blue eyes flashing in the darkness. She sighed a heavy sigh and her tone shifted, as if somehow phased by the wind. She laid back down on her side on the cool floor and another ocean fell from someone far beyond the reach of the sun. "You know Dandy Man, I don''t believe that you''ve ever had the pleasure of sampling me... why don''t you stay a while? If things are as inevitable as you say, I''m sure it wouldn''t hurt for you to warm my bones at least once. I know I could give your bones a warmth they''ve never known. You do, too..."


    The Dandy Man closed his pocket watch and replaced it in his pocket, heading out of the cave. "Someday, perhaps, when I am feeling up to being a better host," he said to her and then he was gone.

 Chapter 1

    Heat and dry air filled his lungs. Hot sand pressed against his skin. Dry desert winds blew his long black hair in all different directions. Gradually, consciousness returned to him and he stirred. Groaning into the sand and furrowing his brow in an effort to figure out where he was. He opened his eyes and took in a breath before immediately coughing as sand was inhaled into his throat. Sputtering and spitting into the hot desert floor beneath him for a few moments, he rolled over onto his back and was met with the harsh glare of the midday sun.


    Closing his lids to shield himself from the harsh rays, he drew his left arm over his eyes and turned his head as he coughed out the last bit of inhaled sand; His throat now felt dry and raspy as if a layer of the desert film was still there, causing him to cough occasionally. He rolled back over and got onto his hands and knees, looking down at his shadow on the ground. He took in another breath to stabilize himself and then sat upon his knees, tilting his head up and looking through squinted eyes at his surroundings.


    He was completely surrounded by sand, a seemingly perfectly circular dune that surrounded him that was easily fifteen feet high. He was down at the bottom of this pit, and he was wearing what amounted to rags at this point. What color they might have been he didn''t know as they were just various shades of gray now, torn and tattered, barely hanging onto his body. The cloth was thin and light, billowing in the desert winds along with his hair. Looking around, there was nothing else with him in the pit aside from the sword.


    Half buried in sand as he had been just moments before, its intricately carved hilt was sticking out of the sand right beside him. All that could be seen of the thin metal was the waved pattern embedded in the blade itself and the indented crescent shape near the guard. He reached out and took a hold of this blade, gripping it tightly before yanking it out of the sand and kicking some up for his efforts. Coughing again, he looked up to the top of the dune and decided it was time that he got out of it to see what else was around him.


    Getting to his feet, the blistering sand burning into his soles, he walked forward and leaned into the side of the dune, trying to traverse it. He made little to no progress this way and when he did he was sliding back down to the bottom of the pit shortly after making said progress. The walls were too steep for him to simply walk out of. His solution was to stab the sword into the side of the dune when he got as far up as he could, dig his feet into the side of it along with his spare hand, then pull the blade out slowly and reach up with it. He made inches at a time, but it wasn''t long before he was at the top of the dune and crawling out of it.


    Rolling onto his back, he rested a moment and caught his breath, trying to get used to the now much harsher winds. He wasn''t protected by the dunes anymore and the hot gusts were easily twice as potent as they had been before. When the moment had passed, he got back onto his knees and then to his feet and looked around to discern his surroundings.


    Desert. Nothing but sand and dunes and desert as far as the eye could see. Beyond a point it just faded into heat and the blue of the sky in all directions. He was stranded and had nothing to his name except for the sword which he held onto fiercely seeing the overwhelming task ahead of him: navigating the Wastes. He began to walk away from the pit.


    The sun beat down on him fiercely. Sweat ran down his brow and nose, leaving droplets of himself as he went along across the sands. He kept his head low enough to see ahead of him but never high enough to look up. He would need to conserve his energy if he was to survive this and didn''t need to waste it on looking for something he wouldn''t see. What he needed was an especially high dune with shade that he could rest in for a while and try to get his barrings, but the desert was mostly unyielding even in this. His feet began to burn.


    At long last, after nearly an hour of walking, he came across one such dune that was casting a shadow. Collapsing beneath it, he leaned into the sand and closed his eyes to basque in the cool of the shade, sword in his grip. He tore the rags on his chest off and wrapped them around his head, thinking that they might provide him some shade while he walked or comfort while he rested. Things did not look good and already the want for home was sinking into him.


    No sooner had he begun to think about home though did things change all around him. For one brief moment there was an eerie still across the desert, one which he might have missed had his ears not started to ring from the sudden silence. He looked up from his position in the shade and looked around, trying to see what it was. He could hear something in the distance, a low sort of hum that reminded him of a bonfire roaring. He noticed that the wind had died down and that''s when the realization hit him. Frantically he scrambled over the side of the dune and looked out towards the horizon.


    There, rushing towards his position, was a massive cloud of sand. It was moving quickly, carried by what was surely a massive gust of wind. For a moment he feared that it was a sand storm. Ducking down beneath the dune, he slid down to the bottom and brought his knees up to his chest tucking his head between them with his arms wrapped around his knees. He clutched onto his sword for dear life, knowing that if he let it go for even a second in the gale that was coming that it could be lost either by being blown away or buried in sand.


    He sat that way, not knowing just when the winds were coming but listening to their approach. It grew like the beating of a single drawn out drum accompanied by thousands of feet. Then it was upon him all at once. Though his back was pressed against the sands, the cloud of dust washed over him and the dune like the insignificant duo they were. His hair blew in every which direction and the rags on his head threatened to be torn right off! Sand struck every part of him as it passed and the winds howled in his ears so fiercely that he could scarcely hear anything else. His eyes were closed so he couldn''t see but he could feel the desert shifting around him as his feet were cloaked and his back blanketed. It wasn''t long until he could feel the sands start to creep up his sides as well!


    Then it stopped, just as he was worried that he would be buried alive. The wind passed and the sand settled, individual grains sliding down each other into place before coming to rest. He opened his eyes and lifted his head, bits of debris falling from his make shift hood and hair around his shoulders. Looking around he saw that the dune he had been resting against no longer existed and that he was buried up to his arm pits in sand. He wriggled and twisted his body, pulling one arm up out of the sand and then the other, until he was able to stand up and shake as much sand off of him as he could. He wasn''t sweating anymore because the sand had scrubbed away his perspiration. Looking around, he saw that everything was different now. The winds had come and reshaped the desert around him and left him in some unfamiliar place once again.


    Lowering his head, he pulled himself out of the sand completely and started to walk once more.


    How long he walked for he had no way of actually knowing. In the desert heat, time felt strange to him. The sun up above him bore down like an oppressive quilt, drawing the water out from his body as he might have done from a well, while the sand beneath his feet bit at his soles and vomited hot air on his skin. The unrelenting heat made it excessively difficult to concentrate on things as arbitrary as time and distance. Minutes were hours, hours were seconds, a foot was a mile and a mile might as well have been an ocean he had to walk across.


    He didn''t think about it though, as much as he could. As his lips dried and cracked and the skin on his back felt like it was bubbling, he thought about the sword in his grip and how he''d gotten into the pit in the first place. Falling had barely registered to him while it was happening, but now that he had time to just think and gather his thoughts on the matter he realized just how much of a miracle it was that he''d survived the descent in the first place much less the sword. Soon, he grew tired.


    He started to see shapes in the heat. Shadows across the shifting dunes that he thought were hallucinations at first brought on by dehydration and weariness. They always seemed to be just out of eyesight and they moved with the sands around him. No matter where he looked they were there, blurred and runny. When he turned away from the shadows in the distance he''d only find more waiting for him whatever direction he turned. He stopped and stood up straight, squinting against the bright day light to try and figure out if these shapes were real or a figment of his imagination, and if they were real if the fear that was slowly creeping up his throat was warranted or not.


    Wandering and worrying about the shadows wouldn¡¯t get him anywhere though. He was parched for thirst and had no idea how long it would be before the sun set; whatever those shadows were he couldn¡¯t risk running towards them and wasting precious energy. He knew they were watching him, he just knew it, he only lacked the knowledge of what they were to begin with. Looking around for a proper sized dune, the young man made his way over towards it and sat down in the shade it created, huddling up and keeping his blade close. Here he would sit and here he would wait, staying out of the sun as best as he could and waiting for the figures to come to him. With any luck at all, they could help him out of this wasteland¡­


    An hour passed. To him, it felt as though many crawled along on their bellies. The constant worry of the unknown and the harsh desert sands digging into his back, all the while the shadows drew closer: he would have been perspiring heavily were the heat not already robbing him of sweat.


    Within the hour they drew near, coming up towards him and his dune just out of sight. The shadows remained hidden behind the protective veil of the desert heat until they had surrounded him in a closed semi circle. There were twelve in total, each roughly the same size as the one next to it. If he squinted his eyes, he thought he could make out two distinct colors from among them ¨C blue and green. They came for him then as he sat with his back to the sand, his skin red and blistered and his sole form of protection in his hands.


    Monstrous creatures they were the likes of which he had never seen! Reptilian in appearance, they stood bipedal with bright flamboyant scales. Smaller arms with triple digit mandibles jutted out from torsos held up high off of the sands. Each of them sported a long tail that whipped to and fro excitedly, thin and powerful. Their legs were thick and muscular, ending in long toed feet with dark claws that dug into the sand in search of purchase with each step. Their heads, though, were what drew the boy¡¯s eyes in shock and awe. Long almost beak-like snouts stuck out from oval shaped heads sporting two pairs of beady eyes. Atop these heads were a very exuberant display of feathers of all different colors, shorter towards the front and longer the further down their long, slender necks they went, ending at the shoulders. Two sets of jaws completed the picture, one atop the other for each, snapping and biting at the air impatiently with tongues, thin and wet, lashing out between amazingly pristine fangs.


    The creatures swarmed around him! As soon as they were within view they darted around one another as if held at bay by some sort of invisible line. Three of them were green primarily, the rest blue. The blue ones had what appeared to be wings on their backs, tucked in and feathered with a menagerie of colors like those on their heads. He couldn¡¯t tell at first, though. The twelve of them moved swiftly in front of him, mixing among themselves with such grace and speed to the point that he wasn¡¯t sure how many of them there were until they stopped, all of them staring at the meal before them.


    Three of them, the green ones, stepped forward away from the rest and as they did the blue ones dipped their heads down and lifted their tails, waving them back and forth while their wings flexed in waiting, nine sets of four eyes fixated on him so as to not lose sight of their prey. His gaze was upon the green ones though as they came closer and closer. He lifted up his blade and pushed himself up into a crouching position against the dune. Adrenaline and fear pumped through his veins.


    They spoke to him.


    ¡°Look! It means to defend itself!¡± one of the green beasts hissed, its voice raspy and agitating to listen to.


    ¡°Amusing,¡± another spoke, its jaws alternative between syllables as it spoke. ¡°It must believe it stands a chance...¡±


    ¡°No, it does not,¡± the last spoke, its head tilting and turning from side to side as it looked over its presumed meal. ¡°Look! Look! Look closely and see ¨C it knows it can¡¯t run, not with nine barking in its direction!¡± After saying this, the creature lifted its tail and slammed it down into the sand, sending a small dust cloud up. This triggering chattering hisses and snapping jaws of each and every one of the blue variety, their necks swiveling back and forth in anticipation. ¡°It must be delirious with thirst by now...¡±


    He spoke back to them, his voice weak but defiant. ¡°What are you?¡±


    ¡°It speaks to Us!¡± one of them hissed, lifting its head up and taking a step back as if offended by his words.


    ¡°Let it be of no concern,¡± the third to speak said, fixating its gaze upon him. ¡°Let those be its last words as We sink our teeth into its throat!¡±


    Slowly, the three of them began to move forward, closing the distance of perhaps ten feet from him to they in steps, each one taking them a bit further from each other. Their intent was simple. They meant to surround him themselves while the nine blue beasts stayed and stood guard. Though he could easily determine the reasoning for their movements he could not properly defend himself against them. Thoughts blazed through his head as fear began to truly take home, his arms nervously waving back and forth in front of him as he brandished his sword like a torch trying to scare away monsters in the dark.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    A shadow fell over the three green creatures and they looked up as one, crouching down in the next instant and letting out a combined hiss. They stepped back away from him and the nine other creatures lifted up their heads, suddenly alert and excited by something that wasn¡¯t a potential meal. Behind the line of winged things came four shining figures, the light of the sun gleaming off of their person. They appeared in similar fashion to these creatures as though out of thin air, concealed by the heat until now. They caught the attention of a few of them who quickly spread their awareness through fevered barks to the others. One of the gleaming figures made a move and the nine took flight.


    They took to the air almost as one, springing up from the sands in a scattered, unorganized, panicked manner that suggested the instinctual response of genuine fear brought on by surprise. Their green counter parts looked around at the spreading chaos and then to one another before turning away from each other and the boy and dashing away into the desert with astounding speed, their combined launch kicking up sand and giving him a hot coating. Just like that, the creatures were gone!


    Their circle was replaced by even stranger figures. They stepped out of the rising heat of the sands clad in clothing almost the same color as the sand itself. Humanoid in general appearance ¨C that is to say two arms, two legs and one head connected to a torso ¨C they all wore similar garbs. A turban of sorts wrapped around their heads with a cowl draping down over their necks and shoulders with a covering over the lower half of their faces. Large, round, dark goggles covered their eyes. Their hands were gloved in a leather that appeared to be cut from the same cloth as their shirts and pants, each of which was held in place by a belt of some sort that kept every bit of their skin from being exposed to the hot sun. Most of them wore a cape as well ¨C or perhaps it was a cloak, the boy could not rightfully tell.


    After them, the gleaming ones came into view. Stepping behind the others, their foot steps heavy and accompanied by the sound of expelling air and the whirr of many a gear, they towered over all others present at what must have been eight feet tall. Their armored exteriors were thick and bulky, plated over itself in places so as to resemble platemail. They had no distinct faces. Only a dark cross cut into the metal of their helmets served as a facial feature. They were polished to the point of sparkling in the desert sun.


    One of the leather clad people stepped forward away from the others and towards the boy. He spoke in a language that he could not understand and it earned him only silence as a response. He was doing his best to keep his sword held up high but his strength was failing him. His arms quaked and his vision was becoming blurry. After a few moments, he was asked again by the same person and their voice was deep and distorted, static and crisp in the hot desert air.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    He blacked out and fell into the shade of the dune.


    ***


    Cool water splashed against his cracked and dry lips, falling into his mouth and filling it before gradually slipping into his throat. It was accompanied by the taste of blood as the water washed over scabbing sores but it was a welcome relief all the same. He coughed as some went into his lungs instead of his stomach and he woke up again, frantic and wide eyed. The water stopped pouring.


    ¡°Easy,¡± came the same distorted voice from before, drawing his gaze to his upper left. The person in leathers was sitting beside him on a bench. They were both in the shade of a covered wagon of sorts. He was laying down. ¡°You have been through plenty so far, you don¡¯t need to drown now by accident after coming so far.¡± An arm was extended to him with a bladder of water in its hand. ¡°Drink, carefully.¡±


    He reached up and took the bladder, still coughing sporadically and painfully. When he found himself not coughing he took a drink and guzzled it in great gulps. The effort was hampered slightly by the bouncing of the cart. All the while he drank his companion watched him as though studying him. He stopped half way through a gulp and lowered the life giving water from his lips, looking over at what very well could have been his captor before frantically looking for his blade. He¡¯d realized that he wasn¡¯t holding it anymore.


    ¡°Relax, relax,¡± they said, holding their hand up and pointing to his right. ¡°It is right there, we barely touched it.¡± The boy turned to his right and saw his blade leaning up against a bench to his right, well within his grasp. ¡°We could barely get it out of your grip when we found you. You are very lucky that we did. Not many wandering the Wastes have the pleasure of running into a full hunting pack of reauslers like you had.¡±


    ¡°Reauslers?¡± the boy asked after a moment of contemplative silence.


    ¡°The creatures that stalked you, surrounded you, and were more than half way through discussing eating you,¡± they said. The wagon went bump over some invisible dune or rock, jostling the two of them together. It was then that he noticed that he was covered by a blanket and that his skin was red and angry, burning with everything it touched. The leather clad individual leaned back against the cover of the cart. ¡°So, what is your name?¡± they asked. He didn¡¯t answer.


    A moment passed in silence and the passenger sighed. Reaching up, they pulled down the cloth covering over their lower face and revealed a dark, metallic device which covered everything from the nose down. Two cylindrical tubes stuck out from the bottom of it at diagonal angles and a large, circular ring was placed in the center of it. With the cloth hanging on the right side of their face, the leather bound individual reached up and took a hold of the mask, fingers being placed in precise locations so that a small hiss of air escaped before he removed the covering entirely. There was a face beneath it after all, clean shaven and with dark skin.


    Setting the mask down beside him, the man reached up and took off his goggles revealing the rest of his face. He had dark brown eyes and a keen stare. ¡°I am not going to hurt you,¡± he said, his voice no longer distorted and fuzzy but instead clear and deep. ¡°We are taking you to a safe place, protected from the Wastes. I am only asking your name to get to know you.¡±


    Another moment passed between them with the boy remaining tight lipped. The man did the same, waiting for some sort of response. Finally, the boy spoke. ¡°William,¡± he said meekly, taking another drink from the bladder. The man smiled and nodded.


    The wagon crossed over another bump. ¡°My name is Joscur. You are in good hands now, William. We will take you to our city, Mirage. There, we will find you a place to call home¡­ after we get to know you, of course.¡±


    Joscur sat back on his bench and turned his head to the left, looking out the back of the wagon and into the desert. William followed his gaze and saw marching behind them a set of six men similarly clad in leathers like Joscur. The two of them did not speak as they moved along. Both knew that words would come later through means of conversation or interrogation, depending on how strong willed William was feeling. For the moment though, both rested. Each were equally thankful to be out of the blinding sun of the Wastes, William more so than his new companion.


    As they rode along for what felt like hours, William drifted in and out of sleep. He was startled awake several times by the bumping of the wagon they were in or by the mangled voices of those men still wearing their masks. Only once was he shook awake though by Joscur who informed him that a blast of sand was headed their way and that he should cover up. He did so, hiding under his thin blanket while Joscur put his mask and covering back on. The wind and the sand battered against the caravan and yet it marched on.


    When at last the wagon came to a stop with the sound of clanking metal and the hiss of escaping air, Joscur shook William awake once more. ¡°We are here,¡± he said. His mask was off once more. ¡°You have never been to Mirage, am I right?¡± he asked.


    William shook his head, answering, ¡°No.¡±


    The man jerked his head towards the back of the wagon. ¡°Come on,¡± he said to him, getting up from his seat and holding a hand out for him to take. ¡°You will want to see how we get into the city.¡±


    He took his hand and got up to his feet. He felt better after some rest and plenty of water though he was still woozy and he felt hungry. He kept the blanket wrapped around him as they exited the wagon. The six who had been in the back had all moved to the front, their masks off and each of them chatting among themselves. William followed Joscur around the left side of the six wheeled covered wagon and paused only upon getting to the front of it and seeing that it had no beast of burden carrying it along. In fact, there was none in sight.


    He looked around and saw nothing in front of him save the group of men and the four huge, gleaming human shaped towers of metal that stood in front of the group of men. Beyond them was nothing but the rising heat from the desert sands; it distorted all else beyond the group unlike any other part of the desert he¡¯d been in although it felt no hotter. William looked around confused, wondering what they were all looking at. Then, as if in answer, the four armored men raised their arms up in front of them and spread them apart, palms flat in front of them. At their touch, the air seemed to distort and ripple as though it were water. Then, the way became clear.


    A circular opening in the air revealed that which was hidden ¨C a city, streets, people. A rush of sound came out from the area that the four had opened and beyond them William could see what appeared to be a bustling settlement of people. As one, the group of men moved forward. Many of them removed their turbans, goggles and masks, smiling at one another and patting each other on the back for having made it back alive. Joscur looked to William and jutted his head towards the opened way.


    ¡°Come on, let me show you Mirage,¡± he said and stepped forward towards the others.


    William followed. ¡°What about the cart?¡± he asked.


    Joscur looked back at him and gave a shake of his head. ¡°Oh, do not worry about it, the animunculi will get it.¡±


    William furrowed his brow and looked at the tall, gleaming figures holding the way open. He could only assume that they were what he meant by animunculi. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the word, animunculi, resonated with him: a memory distant making ripples on his mind as a stone thrown over water. The more he looked at them and thought of it, the more he doubted that they were ningen. Too big, too bulky, too still to be ningen in his eyes. ¡°Come on!¡± he heard Joscur call to him and he followed, turning away from the animunculi and walking past them and into the oasis city of Mirage.


    It was beautiful! Truly a wonder of a hidden gem. All around him, as far as he could see, were tall, bulky buildings that looked as though they simply rose up from out of the ground as though they had always been there. Dark sand stone composed their superstructure with windows and door ways and rooms and stairs all carved out of the stone itself. Intricate carvings and statuettes were placed along frames and on the corners of buildings, depicting all sorts of fantastical creatures that William had never seen before. People were everywhere, dressed in every color imaginable, thronging the streets and walking from place to place, cheerful and gay. The streets on which they walked were lined with stained glass that melded into itself to create a river of color in the sand, which stopped just short of the invisible barrier; immaculate. Stalls lined the streets and buildings with merchants selling goods or attempting to to whoever passed by ¨C food, clothing, jewelry, oddities, there was too much to take in at a glance!


    What¡¯s more, as he followed in Joscur¡¯s steps, he tilted his head up to find the tallest buildings and the skies itself occupied with people. Above them, rising a good five feet or so above the animunculi¡¯s heads were people riding on floating carriages of flat metal, a bright green orb beneath them. Those who were closest to the ground drifted lazily along, chatting amongst themselves or even laying about lazily, apparently enjoying the sun, while those above them moved quicker and with a purpose. William noticed the distinct drop in temperature the further in he went. Within the city walls, the heat wasn¡¯t so bad at all.


    His bare feet padded on the smooth and glassy roads as he stumbled forward, his head craned up high to the skies above him in awe. Someone bumped into him by accident, tearing his gaze from the sky and making him spin. He found himself looking at an older, dark skinned woman who was looking at him and the blanket he wore with concern on her face, her arms held out in front of her as though to caress him. She spoke to him questioningly, speaking in words he didn¡¯t understand. To her, he looked a pale, ragged young man fresh out of the Wastes in need of food and care. She wasn¡¯t wrong.


    A more familiar voice drew her attention away from William and he in turn followed her gaze. Joscur was approaching, his left arm held out in front of him. He spoke to the woman in the same language she was speaking, saying to her that he was a survivor from the Wastes. Her eyes widened and she turned back to William, a look as though tears were about to well up in her eyes on her face. She stepped forward and extended her hand, caressing the young man¡¯s face. She remarked how pale he looked and asked if there was anything wrong with him. Though he did not understand her words or what meaning they might hold, William incidentally noticed at roughly the same time that everyone around him was dark skinned.


    A few more words were passed between the two, with Joscur making a small gesture with his hands towards William that firmed up the woman¡¯s face. Turning to him, she smiled warm as the sun and asked, ¡°Are you alright now, child? This man tells me he rescued you! How grateful you must be!¡± She beamed, and her cheerful manner of speech and utter kindness in her face shocked him into silence. He could not remember the last time a stranger had been so kind to him out of mere concern. Joscur stepped over by his side, looking between the two of them.


    ¡°We must be going, ma¡¯am. He needs to be registered,¡± he told her. She smiled and nodded. ¡°Oh yes! Of course, of course! Please, if he is in any need, come and find me! I will feed him and give him clothes!¡± she said. William remained dumbfounded and silent, perhaps appearing to all onlookers as though he were he were some sort of mute. The woman turned and walked on down the way, leaving the two of them to their own business. Joscur looked down at William and gave a soft smile. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for that. Perhaps it is overwhelming to you to be observed and offered such kindness? You¡¯ll get used to it, I¡¯m sure. Though, you¡¯ll have to tell them that you do not speak Mirage-Tongue,¡± he said, placing his hand on William¡¯s shoulder and walking him down the street.


    ¡°The language you were speaking before?¡± he asked.


    ¡°The very same,¡± Joscur explained. ¡°You see, Mirage is¡­ well, as you might imagine being located here in the Wastes, a very isolated and self sufficient city; it has been for ages. Thus it is only natural that the people made a language for themselves over time. Makes sense, no?¡± he asked the question casually, stating a fact more than asking for an opinion. William kept silent on the matter. ¡°Anyways, it is obvious to anyone looking at you that you are not from around here. We have a couple of legal errands to run before we can get you settled, but before that we can get you some new clothes and I can show you around the city a bit. Let me now formally welcome to you Mirage!¡±

 Chapter 2

    The morning sun rose up over the horizon of the Purified Ocean. It''s light danced and glittered on the water''s surface and burned dully beneath the surface. A tall, regal man stood on the edge of a cliff on the coast of the mainland watching the sun rise to greet the world. His face was stern and hard as stone, jaw square and set in place. His teeth ached. He hadn''t spoken in hours. His flaming red hair tussled against itself in the oceanic breeze. His cape swooned with the wind and his skin grew goosebumps from the cold. He was tired: they were all tired.


    The man wore a noble attire of clothing fit for his rank and position. Primarily green in color, his torso was covered by a thick, linen lined V-neck shirt with a red cravat bushing out from the front of it. His neck was wrapped in a scarf, held in place by a solitary pin depicting a dragon. Over this long sleeved adornment he wore a military coat that blanketed his back and sides in a tight, well knitted leather colored a dark, earthy green. The nape of his neck and his shoulders were covered by his red cape, held in place on his shoulders by a pair of golden pauldrons, signifying his military rank as Supreme General. His hands were gloved, his wrists covered by a similarly silky set of frills attached to the end of his sleeves which he hated but knew were unfortunately necessary. His pants were perfectly fitted and dark brown in color, curled up and ruffled over the cuffs of his black belt buckled boots. His left breast was decorated with every sort of honor as was able to be had by an officer in the military of The Empire along with a few special adornments that labeled him for who he was. His green eyes burned red from lack of sleep. He was the First Prince of The Empire, one of three, the eldest son of the late Emperor Gawain. His name was Ganymede.


    ***


    Elsewhere, at exactly the same moment, his brother, named Mordred by his father Gawain, was rising from the cool, soft sheets of his bed, his long blond hair a mess and his body completely naked. He wasn''t groggy. He''d been awake for some time now but had elected to stay in bed as was his privilege as Second Prince. What had made him sit up to greet the day was the day greeting him. The first locks of sunlight sprang in through his windows and poked at his eyes. He turned towards it and looked out at the morning sky. It was slightly overcast. It would rain that day.


    Prince Mordred rose up from out of his bed and stood up, leaving the warmth of his sheets and his mistress behind him. He walked over to his sizable wardrobe and opened up the two doors, looking at his array of clothing and trying to decide what to wear that day. It was important that he look his best. Today, above all other days, was perhaps the most important day of his life, barring the day that his father, Emperor Gawain, had died. His blue eyes scanned over the wardrobe and found nothing there that seemed appealing, so he shut the doors and turned away, walking over towards another wardrobe and stepping on the rays of sunlight purposefully as he made his way across the master bedroom that used to be his father''s, now his. He didn''t know what he would wear for the occasion, but he knew that it had to be perfect.


    ***


    Still elsewhere, their brother, Third Prince Bayamon, sat in a canvas tent, his left hand on the pommel of a sword and his right pressed snugly against his cheek. He was listening idly to the rain as it pounded against his tent while three of his generals spoke to him of plans for battle against the rebel forces that ailed them. His short black hair was swept back and his deep blue-green eyes were intently focused on a patch of dirt not an inch away from his left foot. He was bored, and he was tired. He''d been up all night discussing plans of action against these rebels held up here in the Wuldrang mountains known simply as the Western Peaks. He and the majority of his forces had been there for three months. He found the mountains depressing and he didn''t understand how they hadn''t managed to wipe out a simple group of guerrilla militiamen yet. They had been discussing the matter all night, which was too long in his opinion. He preferred action over talk.


    Bayamon was sat against one of the posts of his tent with his knees buckled up and his legs spread. In the light of the lanterns'' flame it could be seen that he was wearing a simple attire that, unbeknownst to him or anyone else within the Wuldrang mountains, was similar to his brother Ganymede''s. His shirt was white and frilled, a cravat held in front of his breast and wrapped around his neck. He''d ripped the frills from his sleeves long ago and so the rest of his attire was similarly left to fall to disrepair ¨C wrinkles, tears and smudges of dirt plagued his clothing. His black pants and boots chaffed against his legs. His black leather military coat and cape, along with his helmet, horned and ornate, decorated with a long black feather, were at his side, balled up into a nest and setting atop his garment respectively.


    ***


    "Your Majesty," a voice said from behind Prince Ganymede, drawing his attention away from the sunrise. He turned his head and looked over at his Colonel and Knight, Gilford, who was positioned some ten feet away on one knee, his head bowed and his right hand held over his heart in salute to the Supreme General. The morning dew made Gilford''s knee wet to the touch. "Speak," Ganymede bade him softly, lifting his left hand up slightly in the air as a command for him to rise as though he were a puppet on strings. The Knight Colonel did as commanded and stood, his legs and spine held straight and rigid together while his left arm was held similarly at his side, his right staying in a position so that his spread hand was laid over his heart like a cage.


    "Your Majesty, it''s time," Knight Gilford said. Prince Ganymede nodded and turned back towards the Purified Ocean and sunrise. It all seemed so peaceful. Without a care, unaffected by the rest of the world and it''s politics. Yet, he suspected, that there would never been another sunrise quite like this one that he would see in his life: and so, First Prince Ganymede elected to stay a few moments longer to enjoy the warm rays of light upon his face, to appreciate the sun which provided them all with life and the ocean so vast and sparkling like an endless gem. He stared until spots appeared in his eyes and his eyelids begged to be closed. He shut his eyes to the sun and turned his back on it, walking towards his Knight. "Come, Gilford," he said, the words heavy upon his tongue. "With me; to war."


    ***


    Second Prince Mordred sat in a well crafted chair fit for royalty, looking himself over in a tall mirror. He reached up and brushed a stray hair from off of his forehead and forced it back into place upon the left side of his face. It was enough to make him consider combing his hair again for the umpteenth time. He had been at it all morning, getting dressed, making himself appear presentable to the best of his abilities. It all had to be perfect, he would not and could not accept anything less than that. Roughly an hour he''d spent on his hair alone, brushing and combing the thick golden locks back against his skull and over his shoulder. When it was all orderly, he had separated his bangs, which he had trimmed to make sure that they were aligned and even so that they fell down two inches past his chin, over both sides of his face. Then, he''d separated the back of his hair, which fell down to the mid section of his back, into three separate parts then pulled the left side over first and separating it into three from his skull to the ends of his locks. He braided them intricately, making the weave tight as he went along slowly, his eyes deadly focused on each individual turn of hair, ever watchful of himself to make sure that he didn''t mess up, stopping half way down the lock. He repeated this process for the right and then the middle, taking extra time and care with the middle one since he could not see it. Then with the remaining halves of his locks he formed a single braid, thus uniting all three into one and tying off the ends with a white ribbon. Lastly, he had separated two sections of his bangs from the rest and formed them into a thin braid, tied around the back of his head with each other and fastened tightly with yet another white ribbon.


    Before this, he had taken much less time in preparing his face. He''d run water into a bowel and used a razor to shave himself, though he hadn''t needed it. The gesture was precautionary, a testament to his desire for his appearance to be perfect and angelic. After, he had taken a few minutes to darken his eyes, dipping his fingers into a jar of decorative powder that was set upon his desk. He''d closed his eyes and spread the powder delicately, evenly, over his eyelids, making sure that every part was covered and yet not leaving the boundary of his eye socket. He only opened his eyes when he felt certain that he could. The effect gave his blue eyes the look of a looming shadow ¨C they were much bigger now than they had been moments before. After, he painted his lips a deep ruby red, using the brush meticulously and making sure that no smudges, streaks or droplets of red were placed anywhere but his lips.


    Before this, he had selected his outfit for the day. It had taken him some time but when at last he had settled upon what he wanted, he knew that it was exactly the garment that he should wear. A pristine white long sleeved shirt with a black cravat underneath a thin white satin jacket with red borders along the collar, wrists, waist and hem. The jacket was also equipped with a pseudo cape of a deep crimson with fell in a crescent shape down below his shoulder blades. The buttons were made of some sort of ivory. His pants were that of a comfortable white satin which clung tightly to his legs which his shirt was tucked into, the seam of which was hidden by a black leather belt with a buckle in the shape of a dragon''s head. Tucked tightly beneath this belt, held in place by it and rising up to above his hips and wrapping around his backside was a beautiful crimson silk sash which fell down to his ankles, pure in color and flowing. Lastly he had put on a pair of polished black boots that rose up over his pants and came up to the bottom of his knees.


    He sat now, staring at himself and going over the details of his form, searching for any imperfections and finding none. He had taken the utmost care in making sure that it had all been perfect, and so perfect it was. Second Prince Mordred continued to stare though, looking at himself as though he were looking at a dear friend, or perhaps his father, for the very last time ¨C memorizing every detail of his perfect and beautiful form, missing not a detail as he sat with his right leg crossed over his left, his hands held gently atop his knee and his posture straight and pristine. His braided hair rested over his right shoulder and fell down past his ribs. The final touch to his outfit was draped upon the chair behind him ¨C the cape which he would fasten beneath his jacket''s pseudo cape when it became time for him to go. It was a time he was almost dreading, for he knew that this would be the last time that he ever saw himself in this manner as he was right then and there; this would be the last time that he looked upon himself as Mordred, Second Prince of The Empire.


    ***


    The flap to the tent of Third Prince Bayamon''s tent opened up and in stepped a soldier dressed in a simple set of tanned and studded leather armor. "Lord Bayamon?" said the soldier, gaining the Prince''s attention fully along with the generals''. "Yes, what is it?" Prince Bayamon asked, stifling a yawn before any of the three ranking officers could scold the grunt for his interrupting their, what Bayamon felt was a, pointless meeting. He''d begun to doze off just then and the call of his name had brought his attention snapping back to the present.


    "My lord, my apologies for barging in like this. It''s just that... well, I bring word... from the men, sir. I fear they speak of insurrection..." the soldier confessed.


    "Insurrection?" one of the generals asked gruffly, a pudgy man in his later years who wore a full and dark beard. "What evidence do you have of this, soldier? Speak up!"


    "None, sir," spoke the soldier, straightening his posture and moving his right hand up over his heart hurriedly as though he''d forgotten the gesture. "I bring the concern of my own volition, having spent time with the soldiers sir. Sir, morale is becoming dangerously low. With rumors spreading of Prince Ganymede making his move and with our forces being bogged here in the mountains -"


    "You insubordinate whelp!" interrupted another one of the generals, slightly younger than the first and with a gaunt face, his fist slamming down on the table. "How dare you say such things in front of your commanding officers and your Lord! What unit are you from, soldier!? I ought to have you whipped for barging in here and your commander stripped of his rank!" he roared, making the soldier whence. He''d only come with good intentions, after all.


    "Enough!" barked Bayamon, earning the gaze of his generals while the soldier who delivered his concerns straightened up all the more and clutched his hand tighter over his heart. The Prince looked up at the soldier, then at his generals. "Soldier, what is your name?" the Third Prince asked softly, feeling very sore and achy from lack of sleep.


    "My Lord, my name is Goman," he answered, his gaze pointed off in the distance. He dared not look upon his Prince without permission.


    "Look at me, Goman," Bayamon commanded, placing his dark green gaze upon the man who did as he was told, looking down upon him. The generals stirred lightly at the command but did not speak up ¨C they believed that mere soldiers should not look down upon a Prince, even if he were sitting on the ground. Such is why they had avoided looking at him since he''d sat down upon the ground. They had such tremendous respect for him. "Goman, in your opinion what do you think the men need to keep their morale high?"


    The soldier Goman hesitated a moment, not expecting to be offered to give his opinion. Frankly, he was surprised that he''d been allowed to get this far and still remain standing, practically frozen as he was. When he had told two other soldiers of his idea to approach the Prince with his concern hours ago, they had neither encouraged nor discouraged him and had done nothing to stop him as he made his way over to the tent, nor had they wished him luck. The lack of any words, positive or negative, had only made Goman''s feelings of dread deepen. Frankly, he''d never set eyes upon Prince Bayamon before that very moment and his heart was pounding as if to leap into his hand. "My Lord, it is my belief that some encouraging words from the generals... or better yet, yourself, My Lord, would be sufficient to raise morale," Goman said humbly.


    "Hm. An excellent suggestion," Prince Bayamon noted, thrusting his blade into the soft ground between his feet. He reached over and grabbed his helmet and cape before standing up. The three generals stood up as he did and Goman made sure that his posture was straight as an arrow once more. Sticking his helmet beneath his left arm, Bayamon used his right to sling his black cape over his right shoulder and neck so that it covered his right side, the golden tassel rope fastening easily to his left shoulder both front and back. This done, he placed his helmet atop his head, the black plumed piece of armor giving his head the visage of a dragon. "Come, let us go address the men," Bayamon said, waving his arm towards the front of the tent and out into the rain. The generals saluted their Lord, clasping their right hands over their hearts. Goman lowered his right arm and stepped aside, clearing the passage for his Prince. Bayamon moved around his generals and their table and pushed the tent flap open, stepping out into the rain and looking towards the camp.


    ***


    Far away, First Prince Ganymede strode towards his own troops ¨C those who chose to defect with him when he made his leave of the imperial palace. Over all, they were small in number but mighty in stature. With Gilford at his side, even as a solitary Knight, he and his men had strength ¨C real strength. With each step he took he reinserted in his mind that this was the start of a new age and that it would be a long, arduous, hard fought age that would end only in blood. It was an age long over due, and yet it would give way to everlasting peace. He prayed that it would give way to everlasting peace.


    The ground beneath his feet was rocky and sparsely covered in grass. It looked almost as a balding head with patches of hair still struggling for growth. This place, along the cliffs overlooking the Purified Ocean, was less than ideal. But it was isolated though, cut off from the rest of the mainland and all others thanks to the Ysgrambull mountain range ¨C the Northern Peaks. For his current purposes of remaining hidden and defended, they were perfect. No other mountain range within the entirety of The Empire was so treacherous. Were it not for his knowledge of the range he would have lost the majority of those who had defected with him just in getting to these cliffs. Yet with his help and guidance they had reached this place and this would become the new capital once it was all said and done; First Prince Ganymede had already made that decision during the three months that he had his army had held camp there. Ganymede lifted his head and spotted the crest of the hill that he had climbed while it was still dark to get to the cliffs. Camped down below were his men. Gilford was at his right side.


    Stopping at the crest, he looked down at the shadow he cast that stood over the shadow of the hill. Contained within this shadow was his men ¨C the lone garrison which had chosen to come with him when he made his retreat from the capital Damocles. He owed each and every one of these men his life, and they owed him the same. No more than three hundred men were at his feet now, some still sleeping but most up and about, attending to duties as soldiers did. Three hundred men ¨C three hundred soldiers, one Knight and one Prince. Ganymede believed in these odds with all of his heart because he had to. The road was long and arduous before them all. They were his family now, and it tore his heart in three to have to admit that to himself.


    "Colonel Gilford," Ganymede said simply, finding he lacked the strength to say anything more. Knight Gilford stepped forward onto the crest of the hill beside his Prince, looking down at the camp. Three months since they had left Damocles, and in that time they had managed to change this little enclave into a suitable military camp. Tents were set up, equipment stockpiled, machina positioned properly in case of an emergency departure or an attack. He saw that soldiers were up and about, calling out orders to those who were subordinate to them and those receiving the orders following through with them. It was a well oiled machine they''d managed to build in three months. Now it was time to make it an industry. Gilford could see some men looking up at he at First Prince Ganymede, squinting in the morning sun and covering their eyes to get a better look, curious.


    "Attention!" Gilford cried out, giving those looking up at them no doubt that they were being looked upon. "All men gather up! Your majesty, First Prince Ganymede, wishes to speak to you all! Come! Raise your brothers! Rise to meet His Highness at once!" His voice traveled far and his words carried weight with that that propelled men forward, dashing through the camp and into tents to get the attention of their fellow man, to alert the rest of the machine that their maker was calling to them and that it must obey the summons. Knight Colonel Gilford stood watching the thing in motion along side Ganymede, his arms held behind his back and his gaze stern. His shadow was nearly as large as his Prince''s, and even in this he felt unworthy.


    It took perhaps ten minutes to get all three hundred soldiers at the foot of the hill at the ready, each and every one of them falling into an orderly line that formed a rectangle. When all were present, all bowed. The motion was fluid and unanimous, an action carried out by a hive mind of soldiers who had been living together in isolation for three months and had served together and trained together much longer than that. As their left legs moved back and down, their knees bending to act as support, left propped upon the ground, their right arms moved over their chest, their hands clasping over their hearts in salute. Their left arm moved behind their back and their fingers curled half way with their thumbs rigid against the palm of their hands. They bowed their heads, ready then to listen to their Lord. Knight Colonel Gilford did the same after they had all committed this salute, taking two steps back away from Prince Ganymede to show his reverence.


    "Lift your heads, my brothers," First Prince Ganymede called out, "for I wish to look upon your faces this morn." They did as they were bid, raising their heads up gracefully and craning their necks to look up at their Supreme General. Gilford did the same. "Three months now we have been settled here. Three long months sat in silence and in fear of constant attack. Some of you may have presumed that we have done so out of cowardice or spite, that we have remained hidden in this place because we could do nothing else. This is not true," Ganymede said. He''d begun to pace as soon as he started to speak. Pacing always helped him speak in front of soldiers. It helped him to remember his lessons long ago on how to speak properly.


    "The truth is that it has taken me three months to consider everything! Yes, you heard me correctly. Three months it took to take it all in. My father''s death, the actions of my brothers, Princes Mordred and Bayamon, our own actions and what it all means! I have reached my conclusion though, and it is a conclusion I believe you all will find sound. Brothers, the reason that we are here now is because of fear. You see, three months ago while we still sat within Damocles, I was afraid to march you upon my brothers as I have come to realize I should have. I was afraid of so many things, and none of it matters now! What matters is I have seen the way ahead and it is clear. We must come out of our self imposed exile and fight back against my brothers!"


    Ganymede paused to catch his breath and to look down at his men. They all looked up at him silently, holding their positions and waiting for him to finish, clinging on to his every word. He continued. "You may say to yourself that we do not have the numbers or that we do not have the man power but this is not true! There are others out there who are opposed to how things have come to be! You''ve all heard the rumors of rebels all over The Empire! Pockets of resistance cropping up all over in outrage of what has occurred! It is to these masses that we shall go! They shall become our strength just as we shall lend them ours! In this way, we will all become brothers and our family will grow! Together, we shall take back Damocles and The Empire so that the rightful line of succession to rule shall be upheld! Are you with me my brothers!?"


    "Yes, My Brother!" they all cried, none more loud in Ganymede''s ear than the voice of Gilford at his side. He looked to his Knight who nodded at him in encouragement. He turned back to his men. "Then get ready to move out! Prepare to go, prepare to fight and to conquer! Make way for our family! The dragon never dies!" he roared, throwing his right arm up into the air and holding his fingers open and rigid like a claw. Everyone of his soldiers let out a roar and held their right arm up in the same manner; a symbol of solidarity and of readiness. The garrison began to disperse to achieve the Supreme General''s commands. Knight Colonel Gilford stood and continued to salute his Prince, who turned to him with an expression that was almost fright. "How was that?" he asked.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    "Magnificent, your Majesty," Gilford replied, lowering his arms down to his side.


    "Let''s hope the scribe thought so as well," Ganymede said, looking back down the hill. "Those were the words to spark a change in history, Gilford. We have much to do... may the books that be written on the matter be in our favor."


    ***


    Far away, Third Prince Bayamon stood in the pouring rain in front of his men ¨C at least, what men that were there in camp with him. The majority of his troops were spread throughout the Wuldrang mountain range in several different camps. It was his generals'' beliefs that their forces should be spread as thin as possible to cover as much ground as possible to surround the rebels. It was their belief that with their superior numbers, weaponry and military tact that it was only a matter of time before one camp or another smashed one of the rebel lines or found a key figure that could lead them to the rest or some such nonsense. He thought that it was all silly. Truly, the mountains themselves were their biggest enemy. It had held them off for months now and continued to do so day in and day out. In his opinion, the whole range should be destroyed.


    The rain spattered against his armor and rang in his ears: a million bells singing over and over that they were falling from the sky! Men in dark gray and black uniforms stood before him at attention, saluting. Their eyes were tired and their hair, those who chose not to cover it during this early hour of the morning, was soaked through. He''d had them drug out of bed and brought before him, these few men who remained with him, perhaps seventy in total, they who had elected to flee the capital Damocles with him rather than stay and be executed or worse. He knew that without a doubt each and everyone of them believed in their cause ¨C believed in his right of succession to the throne was superior over his elder brothers. So why was one soldier, this Goman, telling him that they did not?


    Behind him his generals stood at attention, waiting for him to speak. By far their Prince was the most ornately dressed man there, as was fitting for their Commander, though they weren''t far behind. Goman stood off to the right of Bayamon, nervously looking between the rest of the soldiers and the Prince, no doubt wondering what fate he had brought down upon himself. Perhaps thinking, even, that whatever it might be it would be better than what the generals had in store for the rest of the men. All was silent save for the rain crashing down against the men and the mud and the armor.


    Prince Bayamon lifted his right arm and pointed at Goman. "Do you know who this soldier is?" he asked, raising his voice so that it would be heard among every man over the rain. "This soldier''s name is Goman. He has come to me this morning with some concerns that he felt the need to address to me personally over the officer in charge of him. Shall we address these concerns together?" he asked.


    No one responded. All was silent.


    "Soldier Goman''s concerns revolve around morale," Prince Bayamon told them all, taking a step to his right and beginning to pace back and forth. "He tells me that he fears it is getting dangerously low, and that he fears an insurrection may in fact be imminent! Treason! Mutiny! Against your own Prince!" Bayamon barked, slamming his arm down against his side and glaring at the line of silent, stoic men. "Now, you may be saying to yourself, ''This Goman''s got it all wrong, hasn''t he? No insurrections here, no sir My Lord. No talk of abandonment and rebellion here, no no!'' Normally, I would be inclined to believe you... but the thought occurs to me, soldiers, that Soldier Goman here would not have brought this concern to me were it not valid in some form or another. He did, after all, skip over his officer in charge and come directly to me... so who''s in charge of him?"


    The soldiers in front of their prince stepped aside, making way for a single man to step forward. He saluted, as perfect a salute as one could give, and stood silently. Prince Bayamon walked in front of him and looked him in the eye. "It occurs to me, officer, that the reason that your subordinate did not report to you is because he does not respect you. Because you are inept," Prince Bayamon informed him, earning no response. Without warning, the Prince drew his blade and thrust it into the man''s side through a hole in his armor. The soldier cried out in pain and surprise, masked by the shuddering gasp of inhalation as blood filled his body and poured out of his wound. The blade was removed and the dying man fell to his knees, only to be kicked over by Prince Bayamon. No one objected. All was silent.


    "An inept soldier is a useless soldier!" Third Prince Bayamon shouted with disdain. "I have no need of them! I have no want of them! I cannot retake the capital from my brothers with useless soldiers! Soldier Goman tells me that morale is low, that there are rumors spreading around of an insurrection. Why? I ask you why!?" the Prince asked the silent crowd. He glared from under his helmet, beginning to pace again. The sound of the rain was beginning to annoy him.


    "Is it because we''ve been in the mountains too long? Are you worried that we''re losing sight of our goals, is that it? Well speak up men! Is it the rebels that are causing you to feel so reproachful? Have their rebellious thoughts begun to poison your will and minds!? Then heed my words and use them as anti-venom! What is apparently not understood is that this campaign here in these dreadful hills is a necessary one! If we do not eradicate these rebellious forces now in the early stages, they will come back for us in the future! When we are weak and tired from fighting against my brothers, they will strike like the scavengers they are! Neither of my brothers has taken measures to meet this threat as I have! They lack the foresight that your Prince has! Right now, Ganymede is preparing to strike at both me and our brother Mordred, while Mordred himself sits secure in Damocles believing himself safe within his walls! Don''t you see? Don''t you understand? I have lead you down the true path, the only path to rule and conquest of The Empire! We fight now against these rats so that they do not come to bite our heels in the future!" Prince Bayamon stopped to catch his breath. He felt light headed from raising his voice so much. He wasn''t used to making grand speeches, he feared that he was drawling on and his words were falling on deaf ears. He was angry that he had to make this address in the first place! It was necessary though, necessary as destroying these rebels.


    Once he''d caught his fill of moist air, he continued in a more hushed and sinister tone. "Should I hear anymore talk of insurrection, there will be consequences. I did not break free from Damocles and the shadows of my siblings to be betrayed by those men who followed me, claiming to want to help in my ascension to Emperor! Soldier Goman!" Bayamon barked, snapping his head towards the man. He gave his Prince his full attention. "You will take up command of your squad. Since you were the only soldier with the insight to bring this matter to me directly, it would seem that you have the potential to lead men. Congratulations on your promotion," the Prince said, then, turning towards the rest of his soldiers, he held his right arm tall in the rain, his fingers spread and held rigid like a claw. "The dragon never dies!" he shouted, earning the mirrored salute and call from over seventy others.


    The matter settled for the moment, Prince Bayamon turned and walked towards his tent, fully intending to sleep for a while after all of that. He would leave his generals and the newly appointed Goman to clean up the body he''d made.


    ***


    The doors of the Imperial Palace''s master bedroom swung open and out stepped Second Prince Mordred, his arms held out in front of him as his hands had been the ones to push open the doors. He stepped out into the long, grand hallway, his foot steps echoing off of the stone walls and the ceiling high windows to his left that over looked Damocles. Behind him, his mistress from the night before was just beginning to wake. She sat up and looked around, still in that morning daze and wondering where her Prince had gone. In all the time he''d spent getting ready for this day of days, he hadn''t once disturbed her.


    The doors were shut not long after Mordred had stepped out of them by a pair of soldiers, ornately dressed in red and white uniforms that were decorative for the occasion. The hall was lined with soldiers on both sides, two apart from each other on opposite ends of the hall every ten feet, one hundred red and white soldiers in all. Each one brandished a halberd in their right hands. As their Prince walked within five feet of them, the heads of their weapons were starkly lowered to a forty five degree angle to signify his passing. Once he was passed, they were raised again and the men who were holding them would turn and follow their prince as the previous set of soldiers made their way past them. An escort was thus formed down the hall with Prince Mordred at the front.


    The Prince stared out the window at Damocles as he walked by. He completely ignored the soldiers for the sake of this view of the city and the sky. Things were growing darker outside in the early morning sunlight but the sun was still breaking through the clouds. He hoped that it would stay bright long enough that his ceremony would be lit by it, he truly did. The darkening sky was as much of a sight to behold as the rest of the landscape was, but it was on said landscape that he spent the majority of his attention on. Damocles was wounded, it''s sores still gaping and black, festering fumes rising up to join the clouds. Each crater a reminder of what had taken place not so long ago after his father had died. He shuddered to think what his father, Emperor Gawain, would have said at the sight of it. To know that the proverbial heart of the empire had been struck and wounded by his own sons would have been devastating. Mordred was thankful that he was not there to see it.


    He turned his attention away from the scars of Damocles, a slight smile rising on his ruby lips. True his father Emperor Gawain would not have approved of the damage that had occurred to the city, he most certainly would have been proud of Mordred for tending to it immediately. Once the First and Third Princes had been repelled from the city''s walls, Mordred had made it his top priority to rebuild what had been destroyed, to recover what could be recovered and to help the citizens of Damocles in any way that he could. Over the weeks that had turned to months, he''d visited the city many times and had personally helped where he could despite the advice from those older and supposedly wiser than him to stay within the palace, where his brothers supposedly could do no harm. His disregard of their words had earned him a just reward ¨C the love of his people. People who would be here in the palace today, who were already there he was sure, waiting for him, their Second Prince, soon to be a Prince no more.


    The hall ended at a tall, wide stair of pure white marble. At this stair case he paused, looking down the steps and remembering the many times he''d run up and down them, how he''d utilized them to their fullest over the years to explore the Palace. His father had told him once, long ago, that these stairs were the first thing to be built in the Palace proper, and indeed, the first thing to be built in all of Damocles. He''d told him how through these stairs you could access every section of the Palace, how it was the central pillar that connected every other part of the building they called home and how it brought together the history of the place. Emperor Gawain had told his son Modred how when Damocles was being built the Palace had come first and the rest of the city around it, how that when it was being built the people who had helped build it would stay within the palace itself. The thought had appalled Mordred at first. He couldn''t quite understand how commoners would be allowed to stay within the walls of the Palace, even if it hadn''t been properly built yet. When he brought this up to his father long ago at the top of these stairs, his father had clapped him on the shoulder and told him that it was ordinary, regular, every day citizens that made up The Empire, even back then, that while they ruled, they were not above the ideal that The Empire was for one and all. Thus they had been allowed to sleep within the grounds while the staircase and the rest of the Palace was being built. Thus Second Prince Mordred personally helped to rebuild what parts of Damocles had been harmed during the Struggle for Succession.


    Second Prince Mordred reached out and took a hold of the smooth marble railing as he had done so many times before, though this time there was a delicateness to it. As he recalled the conversation with his father, his chest was filled with the warm throbbing pain of sorrow at the loss of his father and his brothers. He was reminded how he would never again sit atop these stairs with any of them and it made him want to weep. Never the less, he stepped forward onto the stair and began to descend, his cape falling on each step behind him as he went and his entourage of one hundred soldiers falling in two lines behind him with him at the center. He was grateful for the company, even if it was just ceremonial.


    Down the steps they walked, one story leading to the next. The Palace was made up of ten stories and stood as the tallest building in Damocles. At each story, the central staircase broke up into four walk ways that lead to different parts of the Palace, each walk way positioned in the cardinal directions. Descending ever downward at an even pace, Mordred felt that somehow the stairs had grown longer since he''d last been up them. Every step seemed to make his stomach drop as though he were about to fall down into a hole. He kept his eyes down on the stairs and occasionally looked over the railing to try and get a glimpse at the bottom. His view was obscured by the floors below though, and so he''d try again a floor down only to find his view blocked once again. He did this compulsively. He was nervous, and who wouldn''t be?


    The time did come when he could see the bottom though, when he turned the final turn and the stairs did indeed grow wider as they fanned out, spreading along the floor like a ribbon being undone. At this bottom stair was the floor which in precisely twenty steps lead to another set of stairs and another floor that lead to a tall set of double doors. Beyond these doors was the throne room, his destination and his future. He strode towards them without hesitation, descending the final stair case that had exactly ten steps to it and ten steps from it''s bottom stair to the doors. He was ready for this. He''d gone over every detail of the ceremony that was to come in his mind, had spent three months agonizing over the details on just when and how he should do it, and now he was ready. Butterflies or not, in a mere forty steps he would step through those doors and become a new person. He was nervous, as he had every right to be. How often does one become emperor of the world?


    He stopped two paces away from the door and waited, as he knew he should, for the two soldiers closest behind him to step forward and grab a hold of the gold plated handles. They looked to him, waiting for his signal. He could stand there all day and they would stand with him, waiting for his nod to open the door. Whether or not they could see he was nervous was of no consequence, what Prince Mordred would have preferred was their understanding that he was nervous in the first place. After a moment and a breath, he gave his nod and the doors were pushed open and Prince Mordred was bathed in golden light.


    The room was filled as Mordred was expecting. Nobility, the eleven remaining Knights who had stayed in Damocles, but most of all there were people. Throngs of them filled the massive and open room, all dressed in their finest clothing. Ningen, Animunculi, and Bloodlings were all present. The Ningen made up the majority of those present while the few Animunculi and Bloodlings were in small parties ¨C emissaries to their respective cultures who came to witness this historical event. He was glad to see them there. Their witnessing would act as justification to many of the other races of the world, those part of and not a part of The Empire. Mordred knew that in the days to come, they would be watching him and his people closely.


    Down a final, smaller, set of stairs he descended which lead to the platform on which the seat of The Empire was sat. He walked straight forward while the two lines of soldiers who had followed him thus far left his company and descended down the steps on opposite sides, following the walls of the room and creating a perimeter for the ceremony. Many people who saw him as the doors opened up cheered. The Knights all saluted their Prince and bowed their heads, stooping down on one knee to show their loyalty. Prince Mordred waved to the crowd and lifted his hand up over his chest in salute, signaling the eleven Knights to rise and turn their backs on him, bowing towards the crowd ¨C all save for Gawain, who remained standing in front of the throne and facing Second Prince Mordred. In his right hand was a bright red silk cloth, roughly in the shape of a pyramid. Prince Mordred eyed this cloth as he made his way towards the throne. He knew was what laying beneath it.


    Second Prince Mordred walked in front of his throne and sat down slowly, placing his hands on the arm rests first and then taking his throne for the very first time. The crowd quieted down almost immediately. They were all eager to see this ¨C all eager to see history in the making. The soldiers all around the room lifted up their right legs and stomped on the floor before turning in unison towards the throne and lifting their halberds as high up over their head as they could in practiced precision. Mordred watched with approval on his lips. His hands shook lightly on the throne. His nervousness from the long walk down to the throne had been replaced by an excitement he hadn''t known since he was a child. This was it. This was actually happening.


    Knight Gawain stepped forward and knelt down before the throne, his chocolate brown eyes never leaving Mordred. With care, he reached up and removed the red silk cloth from what was within, one fold at a time, revealing the crown that lay beneath. Mordred drew in a sharp breath at the sight of it. When last he''d seen the crown, it was laying atop his father''s funeral pyre. It was beautiful. It''s polished gold ring appeared as gums to the ivory teeth that jutted out from around it''s top at odd angles, like the maw of some great serpent. Towards the front, near where his temples would be, two ebony horns rose up and towered over the teeth, ending in sharp points and curving organically. Much like the marble stairs that served as a central pillar to the Palace, his father Emperor Gawain had told him the story of this crown as well. He''d told him how long ago, before history was history and before ningen walked the world, dragons had ruled the skies. By the time ningen came along, he''d been told, the dragons were dying off. Realizing that ningen would inherit the world, the last remaining dragons came together and helped ningen form the crown for themselves as a symbol of the dragons'' will which they passed on to ningen. They passed it on to them so that, as he was told they put it, "the dragon would never die". This story served also as the source of The Empire''s slogan.


    "My lord," Knight Gawain spoke, his voice carrying like the wind in the great hall so that all could hear. "Do you henceforth swear to live for the Empire, to rule the Empire in the name of the people, and to die for the Empire?"


    "I do," Mordred pronounced in equally loud fashion so that all could hear.


    "And do you swear to protect the people from all enemies, and to maintain a peace to the best of your abilities so that the Empire may continue to grow and exist prosperously, so that the will of the dragons may never fade from this world?" Knight Gawain asked, speaking each word of the Imperial Oath in question form as he had memorized and repeated to himself for weeks now.


    "I do," Mordred answered.


    "And do you carry the dargon''s fire within your heart and soul, such that your words may forge the metal that will support one and all within the Empire, that your will alone will continue to sustain the Empire, and that your power be equaled by no other?"


    "I do," Mordred replied. He bowed his head as Knight Gawain stood up, closing his eyes and waiting with heart thumping in his chest for the moment that was rapidly approaching. Knight Gawain turned towards the crowd and held the crown high up over his head, the blood red silk that had been used to cover the crown before now falling in his hands and hanging in the air, showing it to be part of the crown itself. All bowed their heads, save for the animunculi present who felt no such need to heed an inanimate object with respect, and Knight Gawain turned around and slowly lowered the crown onto Mordred''s head. His upper braid served as a seat for the crown atop his head, the silk falling along the back of his neck and shoulders. He felt the weight of it upon his head for the first time and it felt good to him.


    The crown placed, Knight Gawain stood back. "Hail, Emperor Mordred!" he called, falling in line with the other ten Knights and saluting their new emperor while bowing his head and falling to one knee. "The dragon never dies!" Emperor Mordred lifted his head and opened his eyes to a room full of people saluting him and down on their knees. Only the one hundred soldiers who had accompanied him down the stairs remained standing, stoic and watchful. Even the animunculi had taken a knee out of respect for the new sovereign of the realm.


    Emperor Mordred stood, and with him the masses. They cheered, clapping their hands together and waving their arms excitedly. From where he stood in front of the throne, it was easy to separate the groups of people from one another. The nobility all stood towards the front of the throne, clapping politely and smiling but otherwise remaining still. The citizens who made up the majority of the crowd wriggled and bounced off of one another in excitement and glee, becoming a pool of writhing, joyful flesh. The Bloodlings acted much the same as the noble ningens though in the back which was appropriate seeing as they were nobility in their own right. The animunculi were the easiest to spot, being the most out of place element in the room. Their bodies of metal and tubes stood stoic and unmoving in the tide of bodies, seemingly unaffected by the cheer in the room. The soldiers all turned as one towards the crowd and lowered their halberds to their sides, ready to step in should the need arise and the Knights remained bowed before their new emperor. This was how he''d imagined it would be. Soon, he would be moving among them all and he would interact with each group respectively, but first there was the manner of tradition to address.


    Emperor Mordred raised his arms up over his head and spread his hands, calling for silence which came gradually. All were excited to hear what his first words as Emperor of the World would be and he planned to not disappoint. When the room had fallen silent, he lowered his arms but raised his hands. "Knights, arise," he commanded, soft authority in his voice. "Face the people."


    Eleven Knights rose, the highest ranking officers of the Imperial military and indeed all the world. To all else present, these knights in white satin were but a single step below the Emperor himself. As both nobility and military officers, they were afforded the right to act as such as well. These eleven looked out at the room as they were told, awaiting for their Emperor to speak, letting every word sink in.


    "People! Look at these Knights. Brave, loyal, faithful knights who chose in the Struggle of Succession to remain loyal to the crown when all was chaos! Only Knight Gilford is missing, but for this I do not hold Gilford at fault. He and my brother Ganymede are extremely close, and so it was no surprise that when my brother absconded from Damocles, Gilford went with him. Truly, his loyalty is to be admired, were it only placed upon the crown rather than my brother!" He paused here, gathering his thoughts before continuing.


    "The times ahead we face are grim indeed. My brothers, Princes Ganymede and Bayamon, seek to take the throne from me and thus from you! When our father, the Late Emperor Gawain, passed from this world, my brother Ganymede was quick to try and claim the crown for his own, caring not that his actions affected the Empire itself in a ripple that would be felt by all others! My brother Bayamon, seeing this and feeling wronged by what our elder brother was trying to do, sought to take the crown for himself, if only to keep it from our brother! Only I stood in their way and refused to let either take the crown of their own will rather than the will of the Empire! Only I sought to act for the sake of the people! And so here we are today, standing within this great hall of Emperors'' past within Damocles, left hurt and in want after the battle we three brothers had. Yet when Bayamon had made off like a bandit in the night with precious soldiers and machina after burning homes, I stayed. When Ganymede recruited his men who believed him to be in the right and left the city after destroying lives, I stayed. In these trying past three months, I have done all that I could as a Prince to help rebuild the city, but it wasn''t enough! The time came for me to do more, to be more! And so by the will of the peoples of the Empire, I stand before you today as your Emperor and Sovereign!"


    Cheers erupted from the crowd again. The citizens who were there could barely contain themselves at their newly appointed emperor''s words. Emperor Mordred raised his hands again to call for silence and so silence befell the room, and then he continued.


    "As your Emperor, I will speed up the rebuilding of Damocles. As your Emperor, I will defend its walls from my brothers and do what I can to return them to us all, so that we may stand as one empire and one family! As your Emperor, I swear I will do all of this and much more! I henceforth swear to live for the Empire, to rule the Empire in the name of the people, and to die for the Empire! I swear to protect the people from all enemies, and to maintain a peace to the best of my abilities so that the Empire may continue to grow and exist prosperously, so that the will of the dragons may never fade from this world! I carry the dragons'' fire within my heart and soul, such that my words may forge the metal that will support one and all within the Empire, that my will alone will continue to sustain the Empire, and that my will be equaled by no other! The dragon never dies!" Emperor Mordred cried, repeating his oath and raising his right hand up high over his head, fingers curled like that of a claw. He relished the cheers of his people, he felt within him an ecstasy he''d never known at the sight of their joyous faces. Yes, dark times were ahead of them all but in this moment, on this day at this hour, he enjoyed being the Emperor of the World.


    It began to pour down rain over Damocles.

 Chapter 3

    William sat on the ledge of the second story window of Joscurs'' home, staring out into the colorful street and the sun setting off into the west, its'' last few rays of light bursting defiantly over the horizon. He''d been there for some time, sitting and watching the city thrive. It brought peace to him after facing the hardships of the Wastes. He was wearing a set of white robes, loosely tied together around his waist and arms with leather belts. He''d been given the simple garments by Joscur, who had bought them for him earlier. His rags had been thrown away; William hadn''t minded. His sword was leaned up against the window beside him. His lips had scabbed over quite well. He was no longer thirsty.


    He thought through and remembered everything that he could about the day, telling himself what had happened as though recounting a rehearsed story. After the lovely woman who had offered to take care of him if he needed, Joscur had lead William through the streets on foot. The two of them together passed through throngs of people shopping for this and that. There had been so much to see that it felt to him as though he hadn''t seen anything at all on their way to getting him registered.


    "The first thing we need to do is get you some new clothes," Joscur had said with a smile. "I am sure that once you are out of whatever that used to be you will feel much better!" As they walked, Joscur kept looking back at the young man he''d just saved, apparently aware of the fact that he might lose him in the crowd. At the mention of the state of his cloths, William reached up and tugged what remained of the make shift hood off of his head, letting it fall to the ground as he followed quietly behind his savior. He looked around him from time to time, looking at people and things to pass the time and distract him from the thirst he had still been feeling.


    The people that they passed all looked at William with equal mixtures of curiosity, worry, amusement, and outright surprise. It seemed that everyone in the city had darker skin than him, a clear sign that they had spent their life out in the sun while he either had not or that he wasn''t from the Wastes as they were. This of course begged the question in many of their minds he was sure, ''Where is he from? What is he doing here?'' He''d heard the questions before and would hear them again he was sure. He was content with letting them be curious about him though, making sure to keep his sword close and the tip pointed down to the ground so as to show he was no threat.


    As they passed from one curious onlooker to the next, their words lost on William from his lack of understanding their language, he looked instead more closely at the buildings that they were passing by. Many of them, it seemed, served as both shop and home. As far as he could tell, most of the bottom floors were where people were selling things. People stood outside of sand stone door ways with their arms waving from side to side, speaking excitedly and gesturing towards this product or that. Some were selling furs, others foods like meat or even fruits and vegetables, although just what kind they were William couldn''t say. Some were selling pottery and glass work, others it looked as though they were selling clothes of a similar fashion to what Joscur was wearing. Why they hadn''t stopped there to get William some, he still wasn''t sure hours later.


    Some of the shops that they passed didn''t seem to be shops at all, but were perhaps more akin to theaters. The vendors would stand in front of their crowds speaking in ways that were obviously meant to draw attention to themselves and what they were saying while they made grand gestures. One such vendor was constantly gesturing at paintings, motioning from one to another while another, younger, person would occasionally move them around or even replace one painting with another. Another vendor was using puppets to try and draw people in close. People who watched these entertainers paid them in applause, laughter, and the occasional gleaming stone. William couldn''t be too sure of what they were using as currency, he had no time to properly inspect such things then and there.


    Above most of these shops and vendors with people walking in and out of the ground floor entrance ways were more people, appearing as though to go about their day to day life. Some hung clothes out from window ledges while others sat on the ledges, sipping at a drink in colorful glass cups or talking to people standing on the streets. People moved within the buildings at a slower pace than those down on the street, their purpose not rushed by the time of day or the competitor right next to them. William could see children playing and mothers and fathers gaily giving chase to them, elderly people taking naps and even one couple dancing. Most of the buildings on either side of the street that he could see clearly had only two or three stories at the most. The further into Mirage you got, William saw, the taller the buildings became.


    There was one vendor that caught William''s eye that seemed especially fetching in the moment. Along a right hand street corner, a very portly man with a thick gray beard stood with a ravishing smile upon his face. He wore thick robes of yellow and rich purple, his arms waving in the air and his voice almost melodic as he seemed to sing about his product of choice ¨C water, or wine, or perhaps just some sort of juice drawn out from some of the fruits that they''d seen before. His stall was adorn with thick bladders and sacks of dark leather, filled to the cork with some mystery fluid and hanging on twisted leather braids. William had wanted to stop and get something to drink from this man but didn''t ask to, simply licking his lips and letting Joscur lead him on.


    It was just after this vendor when Joscur took a left down the street, turning onto another with William in tow. "Tell me William," he had said, looking back at the pale young man, "how much do you know about Mirage?"


    "Not much," William lied, giving a final look at the plump liquid vendor before turning back to Joscur.


    "It is a long way yet before we come to the proper clothing shop, perhaps I can tell you about my city?" Joscur suggested. William just nodded, letting him speak and listening while he looked above their heads at the people flying above them. The flat metal strips that people flew upon came in many different shapes and sizes, ranging from a single person being able to stand on a particularly thin strip of metal and surf upon the air to great, curved carriages, almost like boats, with nearly a dozen people aboard. These modes of transportation were usually customized to whomever was riding aboard them, with silken wrappings creating billowing tails for some while others had many a stuffed pillow to sit upon. Some it seemed were equipped with small tables to be sat at while the riders enjoyed a luncheon together. All of them had beneath them an incandescent emerald green orb that left behind it a faint glowing trail that lingered so long as there was shade to give it cadence but quickly vanished within the sunlight.


    "What are those?" William asked Joscur, pointing up above their heads. Joscur looked back at William then up to where he was pointing, looking perplexed for a moment and stopping on the street to give his company a more focused glance.


    "Those? The natators?" Joscur asked, somewhat hesitantly as though expecting William to jest with him. When he took a moment to consider Williams'' serious, shale gray eyes and the limp expression that denoted any sort of humor; he conceded that the young man with him truly didn''t know what a natator was, which only intensified the mystery of this pale young man from the Wastes. "They are called natators. They are very simple machina that most people use for transportation within cities. Above us is the sky streets, where natator pilots are allowed to fly their crafts. Natators are not allowed down here on the street level," he explained, smiling at the end of his quick explanation and waving his hand onward and walking along. William followed.


    They made a right turn two streets down from where the liquid vendor had been and went straight for a while, the streets becoming less and less crowded the further into the city that they went. There were less and less shops as they went along, too, buildings giving way to more residential looking housing complexes with more and more people appearing as though they lived in the intricate, almost hive like buildings. At various places, people piloting natators would come to a stop just beside a wooden platform that was connected to the roof or one of the higher floors of a building. Those on the metallic and decorated crafts would disembark and tie their floating carriages to the platforms with a thick rope on one of a series of wooden rings, where they would continue to float while their presumed owners ducked indoors to conduct whatever business they meant to.


    On one of the streets that they walked, William noticed a sudden increase in the number of women that were above. Most of them were young, almost all of them were clothed in fetching red garments that seemed at once light as air and thick as lead, revealing just enough of their bodies through the flowing fabrics to let the imagination stir while remaining surprisingly decent. The street was not entirely devoid of men though. Those that were there were usually in the arms of a woman, or sitting across from one, or holding ones hand and seeming to make them laugh. There were smiles all around and a heavy perfumed scent in the air that was at once faint and undeniable.


    As they walked by, many of the women took notice of William and began to chatter among themselves in curious tones. Some looked excited, others simply raised a brow. It wasn''t long before a small crowd of the scarlet clad women flocked towards the two of them. Joscur had to stop and hold his hands up, a smile on his face that spoke of regret and at once worry. The women around them spoke over one another, each wanting to have their voices heard. A few spoke to Joscur directly but most flocked to William, their silken garments carrying them to the pale young man like water down a drain. They spoke in Mirage-Tongue, reaching out and running their fingers over his bare chest and shoulders, pulling the blanket down. He could only look around with a slight flush over his face, at once confused and certain of what was going on.


    It wasn''t until Joscur raised his voice, now speaking his native tongue, and turned towards William, reaching out and waving his left arm back and forth did the women take a step back, looks of disappointment and denial etched on their faces. "I am sorry, friend," Joscur said, giving William an apologetic smile. "They saw you and came over with curiosity. They thought that you were from the north, perhaps beyond the Ysgrambull mountains. They uh, got a bit excited at the thought," he said, flashing a smile that said he knew exactly what this place was without them having to be told, a knowing sort of smile that one obtained from some long held knowledge left over from boyhood. William understood as well.


    "We call this Scarlet Boulevard. Come, maybe we will visit later once our more pressing matters have been attended to," Joscur said, reaching out and clapping William gently on his sunburned shoulder, turning and walking on down the street. William winced lightly at the flare of pain in his shoulder and followed after his guide, giving a last look at the women of Scarlet Boulevard who awarded him, a couple of them anyways, by reaching up and pulling back the front of their crimson robes to either side, exposing their breasts to him and shaking back and forth while other women screeched and hollered with laughter. William blushed lightly and sighed, turning back ahead and away from Scarlet Boulevard and pulling the blanket back over his shoulders.


    On they walked further into Mirage, the buildings growing taller with the shade it seemed as mid day turned towards the beginnings of evening. By then, William could see what was to be their destination, although he didn''t know it at the time. There was a single, tall tower that seemed much taller and wider than all of the other buildings in the city, much more intricately designed as well. Natators flew in and out of the upper levels, as though it served as a navigational throughway for he pilots or a hive for some flying insects that made Mirage play host to their swarm. Just how many stories tall it was he could not say at the time, but even from as far away as they were he knew that it was without a doubt the largest building in the city.


    Joscur came to a stop at the corner of a street, looking down to the right of it into the shadow of two buildings. William followed his gaze and saw a team of men working, five in total. Four of them stood on the street itself, side be side and spanning the breadth of the street while the fifth stood off to the side with a series of utensils at his disposal. He was a short, stout man with strong, rippling muscles and very broad, almost rectangular shoulders. He wore no shirt, though his thick wrists had on three thick, glistening silver colored bracelets apiece. His stocky arms each held a tool, his left holding onto the handle of a rather large mallet with a polished wooden handle and a round, cylindrical head while his right held on a thin metal bar up over his shoulder with a flat, wide head. Around his waist was a leather belt packed to the brim with other tools of varying sizes and he wore a pair of thick, slick looking knee high boots that were tied over with three belts each. The four men in the road wore a similar set of boots along with a suit that covered them from head to toe. They looked thick, black and rubbery and their forms were obscured by them. On their backs was a pair of metal tubes that had two hoses connected to each of them and spanned the length of their backs. The left tube had a thin wire like hose on the bottom which the workers were holding in their left hand. Atop both of them was a short, crescent shaped metallic elbow of a tube that connected them both together. The right tube had a thick, rubbery hose that looked to be of similar fashion to the material their suits was made out of that was connected at the top. This long hose connected to a strange, sort of gauntlet on the workers'' right hands that looked as though it were complicated in design. Each of them wore a helmet on their head that looked similar to the leather clothing that Joscur wore but had a pair of goggles attached to them with retractable antenna connected to the lenses so that they could be lifted up and down on their face.


    "Wait here a moment," Joscur said, sparing William a glance before walking down the street towards these men. The shirtless man shouted out something in Mirage-Tongue and lifted the mallet he held off of the ground a couple of inches before letting it fall. The four men responded something back in kind and turned their heads towards the ground. William followed their gaze and was somewhat surprised to find that the ground in front of them was made of sand, not glass. There was a decent bit of space between where they stood and where the alley they were standing in ended and the multicolored glass road began again. As one, the four of them lifted up their right hands and clenched their left fists, fire erupting from the palm of their gauntlet clad hands not a moment later. The fire was thin and concentrated, almost entirely blue. The stream of flame shot down at the sand and spread out, the men slowly moving their arms back and forth while keeping them quite rigid. The ground in front of them quickly went from sand to molten glass. They would cover over a few inches of sand before the shirtless man stepped forward, lifting his mallet completely off of the ground and hefting it over his shoulder. He shouted an order and the flames stopped, the four of them taking steps back as one in practiced movements.


    Joscur called over to the man, drawing the attention of a couple of the suited flame-throwers. The boulder of a man didn''t seem to hear him though. He stepped onto the sand just a foot or so away and brought the long, thin tool off of his right shoulder, holding it out in front of him and pressing the flat end onto the molten glass. He dragged the tool towards him, spreading the red hot liquid sand like butter. It wasn''t until Joscur was right beside him that the man looked up from what he was doing. He, too, wore a pair of goggles although his head was absent a helmet. Words were passed between the two that William couldn''t hear, Joscur seeming to do most of the talking while the other man worked at spreading the newly created street to connect up with the already completed one. Before long, the burly man looked over at William and for the first time he had a proper look at the man''s face, minus his eyes. Most of it was obscured by thick, kinky hair. His beard seemed to constitute the entire bottom half of his face while his mane billowed out on either side of his neck to rest on his shoulders, barely held down in place by the strap of the goggles. His nose seemed broad like the rest of him and his cheeks looked strong and gnarly.


    A few more seconds passed between Joscur and this man before he turned to one of his coworkers and held out the long, thin tool. One of the suited men hopped over the line of molten glass and snatched the tool out from his hand, resuming his work while he and Joscur walked over towards William, who straightened up as they approached. He was much smaller in stature compared to whoever it was that his savior was bringing over, despite being a good deal taller. "William, I would like you to meet Daniellex, a very good friend of mine. Daniellex, this is William, the young boy I found in the Wastes that I told you about," Joscur introduced the both of them.


    Daniellex, hammer still held over his left shoulder, held out his right hand in an offer to shake. "Pleasant moons to you," he said, his voice thick and rough like gravel. William reached out and took his hand, gripping the callous, leathery grip as hard as he could while Daniellex did the same to his comparatively soft hands. William made sure to grip this new acquaintances'' hand with his ring and pinkie finger while his index and middle fingers laid flat against the burly man''s wrist. He only flinched because of the sunburn on his hand being agitated. "Pleasant moons," he said back in kind, unsure of the significance of the phrase but thinking it polite to respond in the same way.


    Daniellex smiled, a gesture that could only be seen by the movement of his beard, as he let go of William''s hand, turning to Joscur and saying, "He is practically a citizen already, eh? Greeting me in the same way! I thought you said you found him in the Wastes today?" Daniellex said, his voice jovial.


    "I did. William must be sharp of eye and ear, picking up on some of our customs already!" The two friends shared in a chuckle over this. William remained silent.


    "Well, he is awfully pale for a wanderer of the Wastes... you do not think he is a reaver," Daniellex said, making a statement rather than asking a question


    "If I thought that, I would have let the reauslers have him. There is much mystery around William here that we have yet to solve, and I have not yet asked him. Such things can wait, I simply wanted you to meet him now since I saw you working so that we could forgo these introductions later," Joscur said, giving William a slightly curious look. Daniellex nodded, looking to William as well and saying, "Well, I am sure that we will have more time for a more in depth introduction later, when I am not working of course! Joscur, I will stop by later for dinner and we can both interrogate him together, eh?" The pair chuckled and Joscur nudged Daniellex''s burly shoulders. He didn''t budge. Looking back to William, Daniellex said, "Soft winds to you, William. I shall see you later!" before turning and walking back towards the other four workers, barking something in Mirage-Tongue as he went. William looked at Joscur, waiting for him.


    "Never mind what he said about interrogating you, he was just joking," William''s guide explained, perhaps thinking that William had taken it seriously. The pale young man showed no signs of reaction. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Joscur chuckled and gestured back towards the street they had previously been on. "Come. Let us see about getting you some clothes and getting you out of the sun for a while."


    On they went, leaving Daniellex and his group of road workers behind them in favor of completed streets and pleasant strangers. William had begun to suspect that the words spoken to him in passing in Mirage-Tongue were likely that phrase that Daniellex had spoken to him, ''pleasant moons''. They only walked a few streets past where they had met with the burly man before stopping in front of a small building sandwiched between two larger buildings. The two buildings on either side seemed to William to be entirely dedicated to residents. The building in between was decorated with ribbons of colored fabric, in nearly every shade imaginable. They walked into this building together and once inside, William looked around.


    The inside of the building was modest but purposeful. There were tables made out of a dark, ashen colored wood that held on them folded sheets of colored fabric, all solid colors on one, all designs of a similar manner on another and another. To the west side was a counter carved out of stone. A young woman stood behind it, talking with a customer who was holding up a sheet of cloth with a wave pattern on it. Stone mannequins stood next to the eastern wall, crudely carved and draped with clothing. A staircase lead up to the second story of the store where, no doubt in Williams'' mind, the young woman lived with her family, or perhaps there was simply more cloth to be looked at. Aside from the woman at the counter, the customer she was dealing with, Joscur and William, there were two other people inside ¨C a young man with a child at his side, holding their arms out and letting him hang pieces of this color fabric or that on them; a brother or a young father perhaps.


    "Pick out whatever you want, I will explain why you are dressed as you are," Joscur said, smiling and giving him a pat on the shoulder before walking over towards the counter and leaving William to his own devices. He watched as Joscur make his way across the clothing store and got the young woman''s attention. They exchanged a few words with Joscur doing most of the talking. She looked concerned for a moment or two as she looked over at William and saw his unsheathed blade. He turned away.


    William meandered through the store slowly, reaching out and running the fingers of his left hand over the colorful items, feeling their texture, trying to decide which ones he wanted. He was aware that Joscur was looking at him as he wandered about, taking note of the seemingly distant and dazed look in his eyes, as though he were still out in the Wastes and this was all an illusion to him. He didn''t pay him any mind, but instead went about his business in selecting an outfit to replace what was left of his previous one, which had burned quite nicely in his descent. As he walked slowly, he gravitated towards the young man and the child with him, who were near the mannequins. It didn''t take them long to notice him. The child, a young boy, looked at William with awe and curiosity. The young man, who stood just a little bit shorter than William, looked at him with confusion and concern. The child said the increasingly familiar words in Mirage-Tongue, followed by the older man to shush him and hold a hand out, saying something that William didn''t understand.


    "Pleasant moons to you," William said, greeting the two of them as best as he could, hoping that by doing so he''d ease the apparent tension in the air between them and let them know he didn''t speak their language in the same gesture.


    "Oh! Pleasant moons!" the boy said, grinning from ear to ear and looking up at his elder companion. "Baba! He does not speak Mirage-Tongue!" the young boy said excitedly, making William smile despite the pain it caused his lips. He could tell from the excited tone in his voice, his age, and how his apparent father gave him an embarrassed grin that what William was speaking was his second language. No doubt he was eager to use it any chance he got.


    "No, he does not by the look of him," the young father said, turning to William. "I am sorry, are we in your way?"


    "No, I was just looking..." he told them, trailing off. The young father looked behind him at the mannequins, then back to William. "Oh, well, we will not get in your way of looking then. Come, Mamo," the young father said, reaching out and placing his hand on his son''s shoulder. They walked away from William, the boy turning to wave at him and wish him well in Mirage-Tongue. William watched as they went to a different part of the small store, noting how Joscur and the young woman were looking at him. He turned his back on them and looked instead at the stone figurine in front of him, at it''s white robes that hung over its'' broad shoulders and wrapped around it''s non existent waist. He tried to imagine what it would look like on him, knowing full well that this was what he would get without having to look at anything else.


    "Do you like it?" Joscur asked, walking up behind William as he was looking the garment over.


    "Yes. This is the one I want," he said simply, not turning to look at him.


    "Are you sure? I brought you here because of the wide variety of colors to choose from, I bring my daughter here often enough. Perhaps you might want -"


    "No, I''m sure," William said, half turning and looking at Joscur with an expression of certainty that couldn''t be denied. Joscur nodded slowly, looking up at the garment over William''s shoulder. "This one, then," he said before gesturing over towards the young woman at the counter. She walked over towards them promptly, passing by the young father and his child. William took a step back as she approached, letting her do her work and take the white robes from off of the stone figurine. She turned to William and held the clothes out for him, saying something in Mirage-Tongue that left William looking at her silently.


    "She said that you can go upstairs to change into them," Joscur translated. William nodded, reaching out with his free hand and taking the white clothes from her. He turned and walked towards the stairs while the woman and Joscur talked to one another in their native tongue. The stairs were cool against his feet, the shade of the building making them much more comforting to his raw and irritated skin than the sand and glass outside. He climbed them one at a time, not looking up to see where they were taking him. When he got to the top, he turned to his left to see the hall that lay before him. It wasn''t terribly long, enough to have three adjoining rooms to his left, each one a changing room. A window looking out onto the street was letting sunlight in at the end of the hall. He looked out at it momentarily before walking to the door closest to him. A curtain was hanging in front of it, thick and the same color yellow as the sun. Lifting his sword up, he pushed the heavy cloth aside and stepped in to change his clothes.


    A few short moments later, William walked back down the steps to the main room of the store. Joscur was standing there with the young woman, casually leaning up against the counter and smiling as they talked together in their native tongue, laughing amongst themselves. William smiled at the sight of their simple enjoyment of one another''s'' company. It was a sight that he never got tired of seeing. William walked over to the counter, gaining Joscur''s attention in the process.


    "Ah, look at him now! Much better, now that you are out of those rags!" he proclaimed jovially. Williams'' smile widened as he lifted up his left hand, holding the rags in a clamped ball, the blanket now folded under his arm, showing the two of them that he still had what he''d come in with. Seeing the gesture of ownership, Joscur laughed and shook his head. "You won''t need those anymore, what you''re wearing will be your clothes from now on," he said, turning back to the young woman and untying a leather string holding a pouch on his belt. Opening up the pouch, he tilted his hand over and dumped three clear, shining gems into his palm and held them out to the young woman. She took them from him, placed them into an unseen container behind the counter, and gave him back three amber colored stones roughly the same size.


    A giving of thanks was given, or so William assumed, and Joscur nudged his head towards the door. "Come William, we have much yet to do," he said. Giving a final look at the young woman, he said, in Mirage-Tongue, "Pleasant moons," and turned to go. William gave her a nod and followed, feeling much more comfortable and much more protected from the sun now that he had something proper covering his skin. Joscur took the blanket from him.


    On they walked, heading towards the center of Mirage and their destination ¨C the termite hive of a tower where even then as the sky was beginning to turn orange. Natators were flying in and out of its cavernous entrances. It grew taller and taller as they drew nearer, seeming to look over them and step forward as a giant would who saw two small creatures and wanted to get a look at them. William craned his neck back further and further the closer they got, feeling as those it''s many shaded port holes were eyes all watching him intently. He ignored the feeling.


    As they came to the front of the tower, William could plainly see the activity that this one building attracted. As above with natators flying in and out of upper levels, so below did people stream in and out of one of four wide, elongated doorways, one on each side of the tower. Stairs, like pouted lips or a wide tongue, gave people access to the interior of the busy building and seemed to drool color. All around the base of the tower, where before the roads had been angular and straight as circuits, the road suddenly became circular as though it were a pool of water and the streets were gutters for that water to trickle out of. Inside these doors was shade, revealing little of what was inside.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Joscur lead the way, joining the line of people as they were entering this central pillar. William followed, taking note that people weren''t looking at him as much as they had been before, likely due to the fact that he was wearing a full, untarnished, set of clothes now, although the occasional nervous glance was still granted to him due to his naked sword. As they stepped out of the setting sun, past the thick walled entrance of the tower, William craned his neck upwards to look at the inside of this hive. He had expected, perhaps, a hanger of some kind where natators were held on shelves or tied to rings such as he had seen before. Inside, he saw very few natators though, not nearly as many as was coming in on each level. The look of the tower inspired imagery of more of a library than that of the center of a bustling city. Inside was almost eerily quiet, save for the sound of foot steps. What few natators there were seemed to travel only up and down with people standing on them, stopping every few levels to let people off. Every two dozen feet was an inner lip of a walkway that went entirely around the tower, leading to doorways and natator docks. Shelves of books and scrolls lined the walls of the ground floor where they now stood and occasionally on some of the upper levels. Torches hung on walls along doorways and at regular intervals, clear glass bulbs glowing with a luminous, almost ghostly light, giving a dim source of light for the interior.


    "What is this building?" William asked, keeping his head in a state of upward and downward momentum as he sought to look up and take in the sights while keeping an eye on Joscur.


    "This is the heart of Mirage," Joscur explained. "Natator Tower, where, as you saw, most of the cities'' natators are stored. Most people do not actually own their natators, William. They instead rent them from the council for whatever purpose they may need, be it business or luxury."


    "The council?" William inquired.


    "Yes. Here in Mirage, we are governed by a council of seven elders who ultimately make decisions for the whole of the city. They accept input and ideas from commoners and, well, anyone who has an idea, and they decide together, as one, whether it is best for the city for a change to be made or not."


    William was silent at this revelation.


    "That is where we are going now," Joscur said, leading William along through the ebbing crowd towards one of the elevators. "The council sits upon the highest floor of Natator Tower ¨C their chamber is there."


    "And that''s where I''m to be registered?" William asked as Joscur stepped onto one of the elevating platforms that had just come down from the higher levels, joining a small throng of people who smiled and greeted him while eying William curiously. William got onto the platform.


    "No, not exactly..." Joscur said, trailing off and looking at William with the same sort of curiosity as the total strangers around them who turned and spoke to each other while making off-hand gestures towards the pale young mans'' general direction. William took note of the look and how stark it was in comparison to the, thus far, warm and welcoming looks that he had been given so far.


    Joscur took two steps to his left towards a small, raised pillar with a flat rectangular surface atop it, adorned with green buttons that glimmered in the torchlight. Each button, William noted, was positioned next to a rune of some sort, or a letter. He thought perhaps this was the written form of Mirage-Tongue but said nothing. Pressing one of them, the button lighting up and joining a small group of others while at the same time seeming to stand alone on its'' corner of the panel, Joscur stepped back over towards William and flashed him a warm smile, clasping his hands in front of him as the platform began to rise upwards in a slow, steady ascent.


    The further up they went, the more William looked down. People grew smaller and smaller in his eyes and the lights from the torches along them with, only to be replaced by new torches and new people at every level of the way up. William looked around as they passed each thick rimmed landing of stone, looking at people talking among themselves or reading from a book or scroll, their eyes keenly fixated upon the pages in front of them. One such young man was leaning against the wall next to a book shelf, his legs stuck in juxtaposition at a forty-five degree angle, keeping him only a handful of inches off of the floor. A young child was looking over the side of the landing on one level, eyes wide with wonder and terror at the sight of distance to the ground below and was quickly pulled back by an older man with a graying beard who knelt down in front of the child, waving their hand in their face and presumably warning them about the dangers of the edge of the hall. William didn''t think the two were related.


    Up they went, occasionally stopping at one level or another, where a button upon the podium would blink on and off repeatedly while people stepped off onto their floors. Once everyone who was getting off on that floor was off, Joscur would press the blinking button and it would go dark. The platform would ascend higher still.


    As they reached the top floor, the roof of the building seeming to be a simple jumps'' distance away compared to the height they had climbed up, William gave one last look down and was almost startled to find that the people below were as distant shadows now, the lower level torches glittering stones like the three amber colored pieces of currency Joscur had been given earlier. He saw, also, the reveal of a grand pattern in the stone floor below them. Invisible to the eye down below, up there he could see the elegant and intricate workings of the stone masons who had labored away at this tower some nameless age ago. He saw in the center a brilliant depiction of the sun, plain to see despite how much shadow had drawn inward from the oncoming night; the torches provided just enough light to make it appear as though it was giving off the light, the specks of torches positioned at each arm of the decorative sun. The moon was also present, second largest next to the sun and made from a white stone that seemed not to glow but instead absorb the light around it and thus stand out because of it. Between the sun and the moon was a dragon, carved into the floor itself rather than placed there as colored stone. It gave the ancient beast the appearance of eternity, as though it were part of the sky itself where the sun and moon hung and would be there should they be removed. Behind these three icons was blue stone of varying shades, placed haphazardly as shards rather than as a single, solid color or colors as the sun and moon appeared to be. All around this pictograph was sand stone, forming a perfect circle and leading to the sand and glass outside, as if to exemplify that they were an oasis in the desert, and this picture was the symbol of that.


    "Come, William," Joscur said, drawing his attention away from the floor down far below. They walked along the wide landing together, past people who sat or stood or paced silently reading. They seemed not to notice the two, so absorbed were they in their tasks. William saw that where below book shelves had been placed in broken patterns and at seemingly random points, here on the top floor the entire wall was covered with them, each shelf a refuge of knowledge. They both walked on by without giving these shelves many glances.


    On the far southern side of the circular landing was a door way, lit by a pair of torches on either side. Joscur lead William to this door where a set of stairs and a narrow corridor turned and seemed to spiral upwards. William followed silently, his steps and manner quiet and subdued. Why he was being taken before this council, he wasn''t sure, but the thought of being presented to a governing body of people after being rescued from an eventual fate in the Wastes sat ill in his stomach, spreading through his body a feeling of dread as a blanket being drawn over him, wet and cold and heavy.


    At the top of the stairs was a door with seven circles on it, the central one being the largest and the six on either side of it, forming an arch, gradually decreasing in size. A phrase was carved into the heavy wood of the door, and although William could not read the script it was written it, he knew what it read: "For the good of us all".


    Joscur knocked four times on the door and stepped back, his head bowed. William waited and stared straight ahead at the door, not thinking it necessary to bow his head. After a handful of dreadful seconds, the door was opened by a rather short individual ¨C and that was the only detail that William could make out of them. They were entirely covered, head to toe, in a suit of some sort that looked as though it were made of canvas or some sort of thin leather. The fabric was uniform, not a break or hem to be found in it''s formation as though it were a second skin rather than a suit. The face of the suit was a set of three dark circles, glossy as though with a layer of glass. All along the front were a set of what looked like dials, all set within the suit itself to the right while on the left was a long, singular zipper that ran from the bottom of the neck to the crotch of the suit. Little plug holes were present on the suit as well, three on the left and right of the torso, three up the arms and the legs each.


    "You''re expected," the short person said, their voice distorted in much the same way that Joscur''s had been earlier. They stepped back out of the door and Joscur raised his head, looking to William and tilting his head towards the entry way. William stepped forward into the room.


    Inside was a vast room that seemed empty and yet so full. In the center of the room, on the floor, was a sunlit circle that bore the same artistic design as the floor at the bottom of the tower though much smaller. The roof of the room was that of a glass ceiling, thick and dome shaped to the point that one could see the imperfections in the glass, that let in the light of the setting sun. All around the edge of the circular room were monitors, control panels and people all wearing the same suit as the person who had opened the door, their hands set at the consoles in front of them which were similar in shape to the one that operated the elevator but far more complex looking. None of the figures looked up as William and Joscur entered the room.


    Sat in the middle of this large room were seven individuals who were seated upon seven increasingly large chairs, the two smallest on the outside and growing in size as they reached the middle. These figures were only just barely wreathed in shadow, the light of the sun having passed over them moments before it seemed. Though William could not see them clearly he knew that they were all looking at him and Joscur. The pair entered the room and stepped into the light of the sun, while the strange little person moved back to their assigned console. Joscur bowed his head low, bending his body forward and placing his hands on his knees. William watched as the little person picked up a set of chords with strange plugs on the end of them and reattached them to his suit.


    "Elder Council," Joscur said, remaining bowed as he spoke. "I have brought the boy before you as you have asked. He seems to me to be no reaver. He does not speak Mirage-Tongue and stands before you to be judged."


    William''s unease grew as he turned to face the Elder Council.


    A hand from the shadows, first to the left of the center chair, rose. "Rise, Joscur. And thank you, for bringing the boy before us," the councilwoman spoke, her voice gentle but stern. Joscur did as he was bade, bowed his head once more, and stepped back, leaving William to stand and face this elder council alone. He stepped forward and stood upon the center of the stone sun.


    A man leaned forward into the sunlight from the central chair, his arms grabbing a hold of the rests and pulling him forward. He was an old man, his face heavily wrinkled and sagging around the eyes, the weight of his years showing plainly on his face. He was shaved, a light gray fuzz covering his head as it hadn''t been shaved for a few days now. His beard was long and white as William''s new robes, braided together into a neat yet wild rope of facial hair that was held together with a glimmering sky blue orb. Like William, he wore robes of white that stood out against his skin. Their contrast came in the color, where William''s was pink from sunburn, his was nearly black as night. His eyes stood out in the fading sunlight as two emerald gems that glowered out from beneath a pair of overhanging cliffs with thick white brushes for eyebrows. This man looked as ancient as the stone beneath William''s feet and as tired as he felt with a seriousness about him that came from the burden of responsibility.


    "Who are you?" he asked, his voice deep and booming in the hollow room.


    "I am no one," William replied, turning away from the old man and looking instead at the group of plugged in workers, all toiling away doing something.


    "No one?" the old man echoed, a twinge of amusement in his voice.


    "No one!?" came the harsher, shriller voice from the old man''s right. Two tall seats away from him, a woman leaned forward into the light, her face tight with scrutiny and distaste at William''s answer. She was dark skinned in much the same way as everyone else was with dark, thick black hair that was tightly braided dozens of times, creating tendrils that hung down and were decorated by beads. Her lips were a tight line and her eyes were hard and dark. She wore a dark vermillion robe that hugged her body tightly, her wrists adorned with bracelets of shining metal. William did not look to the woman. "How dare you mock us with such a nonchalant answer!"


    "Calm yourself!" came the voice of another woman, five seats to the left of the second who had spoke. She leaned forward enough to look over to the outraged councilwoman, revealing the soft, young complexion of her skin. Her hair was kinky and wild, pulled to the back of her head and held in place with a bright green stone band that could not stop her hair from jutting out in all directions. Her neck was completely covered by rings, six in all, each one with a clasp on the front that could open to remove them. Her robes were a soft violet color.


    "I will not calm myself!" the second councilwoman replied, turning her glare to the younger woman. "We have sat in this chamber anxiously all day, waiting for this boy to arrive and he just... just insults us! As if he has no idea who we are!"


    "I don''t," William interjected, speaking up so that his voice could be heard. The vermillion clad woman turned back to him and pointed an accusatory finger. "Liar!" she cried.


    "You will stop your venomous words now, Mernavia," spake the white clad old man, raising his voice so that it echoed throughout the room as a display of his authority. There was a short silence in which only the tapping of fingers against devices could be heard. "We have all been here all day, suffering from the same anxiety as you. This young man may very well not know who we are. He has certainly never met us before. Do you wish our first impression on him to be that of a spiteful, impatient body that lashes out at inconveniences?" he asked the councilwoman named Mernavia, turning his stern gaze to her. She glared back at him momentarily before letting out a huff and leaning back into her seat, slamming her back against the back of the high stone chair and crossing her arms over her bosom. The younger, violet clad, councilwoman retreated back into the shade much more softly than her counterpart.


    "Good," the elder man said, looking from right to left at each of his fellow councilmen and women respectively. "Remember, it does not do well to succumb to irritation... or fear for that matter. Not one of us sits on this council because we make quick, rash decisions. Come, let us unravel the mystery of this nobody boy together," he said, holdings his arms out to the side, his voice now much more controlled and quiet. Turning back to William, he asked, "What is your name?"


    "What''s the reason for all of the books and scrolls down below us?" William asked, turning away from the canvas-suit adorned workers and looking back at the old councilman. "I''ll answer your questions if you answer mine."


    Mernavia scoffed and turned her head away from William, clutching her triceps angrily. Joscur looked up and over at William with a bewildered look on his face, as if he''d never seen anyone ask these seven people a question before.


    "It seems a fair exchange," said a young man, no older looking than Joscur to the direct right of the central figure, his voice calm and even. He sat forward and revealed himself to be wearing a sky blue robe with a white sash that ran from his left shoulder to his right hip. His hair, too, was kinky but cut short, his eyes a warm brown and his face covered in freckles. He looked at William and William looked back. "They are records, mostly, with books of knowledge as well. Natator tower, the structure in which you stand, acts as more than just a place for us to store vehicles of convenience. It is a library, the seat of the council, a central intersection between the whole of Mirage and much more. Now, please, answer the Elder''s question."


    "You may call me William," the young, pink skinned boy said, turning once again to study the workers that surrounded them and filled the room with the sound of dull clicks and whirs.


    "How is it that you came to be in the Wastes?" asked the violet clad woman, speaking after the freckle-faced councilman sat back in his chair.


    "I don''t know," William said.


    There was silence for a moment, in which each of the council members looked at each other uneasily, trying to measure the truth in William''s words. William took the momentary silence to ask another question.


    "Why did you send Joscur out to get me?"


    "We were not going to let you die within the Wastes," the Elder councilman said. "When we saw you, we knew that we had to go and retrieve you ¨C or your body. We weren''t sure which we would find, if indeed we found you at all. Out in the Wastes, reavers, reauslers or worse could have gotten you if you hadn''t been buried beneath the sands already. You''re very fortunate to be alive."


    William kept quiet at the revelation of his luck.


    The Elder councilman sat back and an old woman, dressed in a dull sunset orange robe, furthest to the Elder''s right. Her hair was graying and straight, combed over to the right side of her head and held in place with three ornamental stone hair clips of red, pink and blue. Her skin was tight looking, as if someone were pulling her face back, giving her wrinkles around the corners of her eyes and her lips. She asked, "By saying you do not know how you came to be in the Wastes, do you mean to say that you do not recall having traveled there? You were not exiled in any way or in an accident perhaps?"


    "No, I wasn''t," he answered frankly. "I wasn''t in the Wastes, as you call them, that desert, and then I was. That''s all."


    The seven council members looked at one another again, puzzlement on their faces. Joscur stood silently, listening. The strange workers around them continued their near silent work. William stood and waited for the inevitable. At last after looking from one member to the next and finally to the Elder, the old man nodded and cleared his throat, lifting his hand up as if to beckon one of the cloth clad workers over. Wordlessly, one of them to William''s right turned without unhooking his suit from the system they were a part of and faced the shaded wall behind the council members. With a few button presses, light shot out from the eye sockets of the suit the person was wearing. The light projected onto the wall a view of the Wastes, the vast, seemingly endless desert that William had been traveling in before with a blue sky up above it with only a few sparse clouds. The image was honestly lovely in William''s opinion, what he could see of it between the tall stone seats of the seven he was stood before.


    Their high pillar-like seats all rotated a quarter of a turn in unison after only a pressing of a few buttons, allowing them to turn and see for themselves again the video they had captured. William did not need to see it to know what they would witness but watched anyways. The video light flickered dully as the visor played it''s recording, much like an old projector would without the loud, obnoxious clicking. Joscur looked up as well, having seen the footage before being sent to collect William but still amazed by it. Together the ten of them, the seven council members, William, Joscur and the one suited worker all watched as the blue sky opening up in a brief flash of azure light. From that light came a streak of blue as if the sky were trying to reach down and touch the earth. The view of the footage zoomed in several times, each time it did the feed was cut momentarily returning the room to it''s shaded darkness, until they could all see what was falling from the sky within this streak of blue much like a meteor:


    William.


    The video feed zoomed out once more to a full panoramic view and they watched as William collided with the desert sand below, kicking up a massive cloud of sand that swirled and billowed in the wind. The Elder councilman turned away from the video feed and looked at William, trying to gauge the mysterious young man''s reaction to seeing the footage, but there was nothing to see. The white clothed stranger simply stood and looked on indifferently.


    The video footage was cut shortly after William''s impact and with another simple press of buttons the seven monolithic chairs turned back around to face William. Joscur looked at the young man he had saved with a clear look of wonder, curiosity and a touch of fear. The suited worker turned back around to their console and resumed their work. "You saw what we saw just now, did you not?" the old man asked gently.


    "Yes," William said, gazing at him.


    "Then you understand our curiosity and bewilderment at you as a whole. You, a young man who fell from the sky into the Wastes, are a puzzle most vexing..." The old man trailed off for a second before speaking again, this time in the strange language that everyone had been speaking in the streets below Natator Tower.


    "I don''t speak Mirage-Tongue, remember?" William asked.


    "No, of course. I had not forgotten, it was just... just a saying that we use. It means ''the desert holds many secrets.''"


    "Mm." William replied.


    "Never mind the puzzles of it all! We don''t even know if we can trust this young man!" spake councilwoman Mernavia. "We all witnessed, again, this boy''s fall from the sky! Yet he lives! Yet he lives, and he comes before us armed as well! Has it not occurred to the rest of you that that blade which he carries could be used to do us -"


    "How do I know I can trust you?" William asked, raising his voice and interrupting Mernavia, his eyes locked to hers as he spoke. She glared at him and scoffed, as if the notion of her, and by extension the council''s, trustworthiness was absurd.


    "It is a fair question. We have failed to even introduce ourselves, after all," the young, freckled faced man said, leaning forward into the light. He turned his head from side to side, saying as he did, "Perhaps we should drop the mysteries, drop the fear and perform some basic courtesies?"


    "Forgo your courtesies: Let''s get to the point," William said, lifting his sword up and pointing it at the council. Then, to the surprise of all in the room, he turned his blade on himself, grabbing a hold of the now cool metal in both hands and holding the tip right up against his neck, directly under his chin! There was more than one gasp and a flinch from more than one body. Mernavia began to protest, but was once again interrupted by William''s voice. "Either imprison me, or let me go. Either kill me, or let me live. I don''t have the time to waste explaining, so make your choice."


    "How dare you!" Mernavia cried out and her outburst was followed by many voices talking at once. Some voiced concern, others declared there was no need for such a gesture. The oldest voice within the chamber remained silent, but stared hard back at the young man who so symbolically made clear what had been on people''s minds for hours now. Joscur, too, was silent, watching on in bewilderment at the council he believed to be a calm, collected body of the wisest individuals within this oasis break down into a squabble of conflicting thoughts and courtesies.


    There came a singular voice in the maelstrom that disturbed the storm and demanded to be heard. It was a young voice, a child''s, and it''s high pitched tone made it distinct among all of the adults currently arguing. It asked a simple question, and in the wake of that question came silence: "Has he done anything wrong?"


    The rest of the council withheld their words and turned to the far right, to the smallest seat of the entire council. From the shadows came a small boy, dressed in a bright orange robe and a small, circular hat with ornaments of colored stone hanging off of it. William couldn''t be sure, but he didn''t think that the boy could have been older than ten. His face was soft and his brown eyes were filled with uncertainty, yet there was a sense of clarity to the expression on his young face as he looked to his left at the rest of his fellow members of judicial concerns. "Has he broken any of our laws?" he asked again now that there was quiet.


    "No," said the violet clad councilwoman, her answer firm.


    "Has he made threat to Mirage or to us?" the young boy asked.


    "Certainly not plainly," came the distrustful response of Mernavia, looking down at and patting her vermillion robes to give herself something to do as the reality of what was being asked had already washed over her. She knew where this was going.


    "Then do we have the right to detain him? Can we rightfully hold him here for questioning if he has given us no reasons to question him?" the boy asked.


    "He has given us reason to question him though, Boma," the freckled faced young man replied. "His... arrival in the Wastes is reason enough."


    Boma, the young boy, paused for a moment, his lips held tightly shut as if to prevent a thought from escaping before it was properly formed into a sentence. "I only meant... legally..."


    "Legally he has given us no reason to be detained," said the Eldest, who had not looked away from William until now. A smile crept onto his face and he raised his hand to gesture towards Boma. "Boma is right. He has no broken any of our laws or customs, he has not threatened us. Despite his peculiar arrival which has us all very confused, it is not a reason for us to panic or act rashly!" The old man chuckled lightly, leaning back within his chair and saying softly, "Ah, the wisdom of children... You can lower your sword, William. The gesture is not necessary."


    Pulling the tip of the blade away from his throat, the pink stranger grabbed onto the handle of his weapon and brought it back down to his side harmlessly without saying a word.


    "I believe we are all tired," the old man went on. "Tired, testy, and unsure of what to make of you. I think that a few hours rest and contemplation would do wonders with our temperament and judgment. Agreed?" he asked, looking from side to side.


    "Agreed," said Boma first, raising his left hand up, followed by each of the others echoing his statement and gesture. "Then for today, we are adjourned," the Eldest said. "Joscur," he called, gaining the young man''s immediate attention. "Take our guest down the tower and have him registered, so that we may update the census. For the time being, William shall stay with you until we can find accommodations more fitting for him. Is this acceptable?"


    "Yes, perfectly so," Joscur replied, his words rushed like a child who doesn''t want to disappoint their parent and so doesn''t think about what they''re saying before saying it.


    "Good. Tomorrow, I would like you to bring William back here so that we may question him anew. We will see, then, if we cannot get to the bottom of all of this, and then, and only then, will we make a formal decision on the matter." With that said, the old man gestured towards the door in which Joscur and William had entered. Joscur bowed his head respectfully, walked over to William''s side and placed his hand upon his shoulder. "Come, we should go," he said to him. William gave a final look at the old man in the central chair and a last look at the workers around them at their stations before turning and following Joscur out of the room.


    From there, the pair made their way back down to the base level of Natator Tower. In what felt very much like a rush of bureaucracy, William was brought before a man around the same age as Joscur sat behind a desk with a quill in hand and several stacks of parchment all around him. Joscur exchanged some short words with him in Mirage-Tongue, the man looked curiously at William, as though reluctant to do whatever task had been asked of him. But, with another short phrase from Joscur, the man behind the desk buckled down, rifled through his papers until he found the one he was looking for, sat it down on the table in front of him and pushed it over towards William. "You need to sign," Joscur said, and William obliged. From there a few more words were exchanged, a small laugh, a shaking of two hands and an increasingly familiar phrase later, and the purpose for which Joscur had said he had brought William to Natator Tower had been completed. He was registered within the city of Mirage as a citizen, for the time being.


    From there, the two of them had made their way back into the city though away from the hustle and bustle of the business district from which they had come to a comparatively quiet part of Mirage. Children played in the streets and parents watched from windows or sat out in the shade, most everyone took the opportunity to stare at William as he passed by, including Joscur who couldn''t help but see the boy he was escorting back to his home in a different light now that he had seen him fall from the sky. William stared on ahead, silent and observing, his eyes looking back and forth as if searching for something which only served to make Joscur more uncomfortable.


    Before too long, they were stood outside of Joscur''s home which, apart from its'' relatively large size compared to his neighbors, did not at first seem to stand out in any way to William. "Well, this is home," Joscur said, stepping in front of William and holding his arms out to the side before letting them fall and taking a few steps backwards. "Come, come inside, we will get you something to drink, and you can rest before dinner."


    William had a quick look around at the outside of the building before following Joscur inside. He was tired, exhausted even, that much couldn''t be denied. He didn''t bother to much look at his surroundings but noticed a set of stone stairs and lead to the upper floor. While Joscur was preparing him a drink, he followed the stairs up and walked down the hallway that they lead to to the window, where he sat down and laid his sword up against the wall beside him. Now, a few hours of rest and several drinks later, he stared off into the setting sun, contemplating what had happened that day and more.


    William knew. Deep in his heart of hearts, a gut feeling stirred. Something was off about Mirage, something simply wasn''t in its'' proper place. Though he''d only seen a bit of the city within his one day of being there, and though the residents seemed kind, though he was currently lodging with one and his life had been saved by the will of a curious, if not slightly fearful, council, this was all just on the surface. He could sense that something was amiss, he just couldn''t place his finger on it. As the sun set and the buildings of Mirage cast their shadows over the oasis city, something caught William''s eye in an alley down below. There, nestled in the shade of two buildings was a poster, or perhaps a painting he wasn''t sure which; a painting of one of the workers he''d seen at the top of Natator Tower, the round goggle eyes and the indistinct canvas obscuring all features. Below the visage were words in a language that he did not understand, and yet he knew what they said. As the sun fell to rest beyond the horizon, William looked at these words and felt a connection with his unease. He knew what they said:


    "For the Good of Us All"

 Chapter 4

    The rain had long since stopped its downfall over Damocles and Emperor Mordred sat in his room exhausted, head in his right hand, the Imperial Crown sat upon the floor at his feet. He stared at this crown with red, tired eyes. His first day as Emperor of the World had been much more taxing than he''d expected.


    In his mind, when he imagined himself sitting upon the throne as a boy, he had imagined that it would all come so easily to him as it had seemed to come easily to his father. He imagined himself ¨C at the time very much still how he appeared as a boy but in a larger body ¨C sitting upon the throne of his father, now his throne, dictating orders, passing laws, settling disputes that required his attention. He imagined he would plan military parades and spread joy to his people. He liked to think of all of the colors, of the banners and the flower petals that would befall the streets of Damocles. Emperor Mordred sat now in the harsh reality of what being Emperor meant.


    After his speech had been given and his vows proclaimed he had stepped down from the throne. As he strode forward the Knights who had remained loyal to him all stood and parted ways. Emperor Mordred had taken the chance to look at Knight Gawain who had smiled at him, mouthing or perhaps speaking, it was unclear over the roar of the room, the words "Your majesty." He stepped forward with the grace and charisma that came from years of being a Prince and now the one and only Sovereign of the world. The first to meet him were the nobility; those of high stature who lived within Damocles itself or, lacking this prestige, lived in one of the many provinces of the Empire. There were many of them, as was to be expected, and Emperor Mordred soon found himself shaking hands, smiling, and greeting many of them. Most who stepped forward to meet him were men, all in perfectly fine dress yet of a noticeably lower quality than what the Emperor himself was wearing, though some noble ladies stepped forward themselves. They each bowed their heads and waited for Emperor Mordred to wave his hand upwards before standing up straight again. How he had enjoyed that! That simple gesture of power and authority! As a Prince he had wielded much the same power and yet now, with the weight of the crown upon his head, it felt like an entirely new action.


    As he worked his way from nobleman and noblewoman to the next a pattern began to show itself. There was true joy radiating off of every part of Emperor Mordred''s being as he went from person to person, making small talk to those who were but a few steps below him in power and influence. Yet from them he felt almost nothing. After a while their actions began to feel hollow, their smiles insincere, their actions mere courtesies rather than genuine gestures of respect. He hadn''t the time to dwell on it all of those hours ago but as he sat now alone in his room he recognized it for what it was: an act, a formality that was neither truly felt nor wanted to be performed.


    Yet at the time he had suspected nothing. He did not get the chance to shake the hand of each and every noble ningen that he came across but he felt certain that he must have gotten to most of them. As the newly instated Emperor stepped forward past the line of nobility, with an entourage of Knights following in his stead, some of the soldiers who encircled the room stepped forward and made their way as gently as a soldier could through the crowd, making their way towards their Emperor and making sure that no one touched him without his direct consent. Seeing these brave and loyal men coming, Emperor Mordred had lifted his hands and gently waved them aside as to silently ask them to stop their advance. For even then, several minutes after his coronation had ended, the crowds still cheered! They obeyed if not a bit reluctantly. They stayed a few paces back away from the Emperor himself and mingled in the crowd, ready to part the common folk if need be, to intervene.


    No such need arose however. As Emperor Mordred stepped forward into the crowd they parted for him like a great and excited ocean. All were eager to be near him, yes, but none dared touch their new Emperor even if they so desired to. As their Prince, he had made it his duty to help them rebuild their lives and for this they had tremendous respect for him. Some of the paupers threw flower petals in his wake, others held out their arms as if to touch him but pulled back at the last second. Most simply cheered and were as joyous as he felt. These were people of genuine happiness at the sight of their new Emperor! They had no other motivation beyond jubilation. They helped to calm the slight unease that Emperor Mordred had felt while interacting with the nobility before them.


    The common folk by far took the longest to get through. He had opened the halls, as many of them as he feasibly could for this occasion anyways, so that the citizens of Damocles and beyond could enter and indeed many had come from all over the Empire to be there! They formed a seemingly endless throng as though they were excited children who were overjoyed to see their father come home. Wading through them took time but, with the help of the soldiers and even the Knights who would occasionally step forward and hoist their capes up with an arm to put a barrier between the crowd and the Emperor they made it through to the gathered crowd of animunculi ambassadors who had come to witness this day. They stood as an island against the sea of ningen around them, as solid as stone and as implacable as as the weather. They stood with eyes glowing a soft blue light and, as Emperor Mordred approached, all bowed forward in unison with their metallic hands resting atop their waists.


    Together they stood up straight and faced the newly crowned Emperor of the world. Emperor Mordred had always found the animunculi of Golem''s Isle to be at once unsettling and perplexing. As his father had explained it to him they were like dolls, toys with wills and souls of their own who inhabited a single island south of the mainland on which Damocles sat. The Late Emperor Gawain had told him and his brothers that the animunculi were citizens of the Empire by proxy ¨C which was fitting given their nature. They recognized the sovereignty of The Empire and did not challenge it, far from it. The animunculi of Golem''s Isle served many purposes that were indispensable. In the long years since the Empire''s founding, many animunculi had been commissioned, made, and shipped all over The Empire. They served as builders, tools, assistants, workers, mentors and a seemingly endless well of knowledge. All the same they chose to remain mostly neutral and outcast from the rest of the world. Rarely were ningen-like animunculi such as the ones who stood in the throne room today seen on the mainland or indeed anywhere. Many of the commoners were torn between looking upon their new Emperor or looking upon these strange creatures that stood among them. Doubtless, many of them had never seen such animunculi before. Emperor Mordred would not have been surprised if they believed that they had been made for this ceremony specifically.


    "Your Majesty, Emperor Mordred the First," the front-most animunculi articulated in its'' tinny voice, bowing its head once more before continuing. "The animunculi of Golem''s Isle are most honored to be here to chronicle this historic event! Tell me, what is it like to be king of the world now?"


    This question made Emperor Mordred smile. As far as he was aware, this was the closest thing that an animunculi could come to telling a joke. It helped to settle his unease. Looking up at these metal giants had always given him a sense of inferiority and dread. For indeed most of the animunculi there stood at around seven feet tall or more! Wearing the crown that had been his father''s but was now his did little to calm the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of what these metallic ningen could do to him or anyone else if it wanted to. He felt this way despite the knowledge that, unless specifically designed for warfare or any sort, animunculi were pacifistic by their very nature.


    "I am unsure as of yet! I have only sat upon the throne once. I do not think that it has truly settled in just yet!" Emperor Mordred called out, having to raise his voice over the still cheering crowd. He thought now, sitting in his room, tired, how convenient it must be to not have any vocal chords to strain in order to speak. His throat felt parched and sore from having to speak up so often and so loudly.


    "Of course. An adjustment period is simply natural. You will feel the weight of your role in time," the animunculi spoke with a bluntness that was to be expected from an artificial being. "If your majesty would not mind stepping forward a moment, however, we would like to have a few short words with you. We wish not to take any significant amount of time from your coronation, however, this is an urgent matter," the animunculi said, taking a step to the side and gesturing with it''s tube-covered arm towards a rapidly forming circle of animunculi as they pushed back, gently, against the crowd around them. Emperor Mordred hesitated for a moment before looking back at his Knights and, in particular, at Knight Gawain who gave him an encouraging nod though there was a seriousness in his eyes. The newly crowned Emperor turned and stepped forward into the circle of animunculi and quickly found himself walled off to all others as the initiator of their conversation replaced himself back in line.


    "What is it that the Emperor of the World can hear you out on?" Mordred asked.


    "Our concern is with your brothers, your majesty," one of the other animunculi said.


    "We do not want to seem indelicate on the matter," said another of the ambassadors.


    "Yet we must be clear in our position," stated another.


    "We animunculi of Golem''s Isle shall not help you to retake your brethren," said the first quite bluntly.


    "And how exactly will you not be helping..?" Emperor Mordred asked, turning his head from one set of glowing blue eyes to the next in order to keep track of the conversation. His father had always said that one should maintain eye contact while conversing, even if it''s with anumunculi.


    "Supplying arms," one said.


    "Supplying machina of warfare," said another.


    "Supplying any advantage of any kind," said a third.


    "Shall not be allowed," they all said as one.


    "I don''t understand," Emperor Mordred said, the smile having fallen from his face.


    "It is quite simple you see, your majesty," the initial ambassador said. "As we see it, your brothers are not finished with their war. It has only just begun. As such, we maintain our right to remain neutral in this matter. We will not help you, nor First Prince Ganymede, nor Third Prince Bayamon in gaining an edge over either sibling. It simply is against our principles."


    "But do not misunderstand," spoke another in the roughly same tinny voice as the ones before, a characteristic that all animunculi with the capacity to speak shared.


    "We will be most happy and gracious to continue to help you in rebuilding Damocles, in the propagation of your empire, as we have done since time immemorial."


    "But in any circumstance involving warfare -"


    "We must remain neutral," they all said as one.


    "This does not feel like appropriate news to be sharing on the day of my coronation," Emperor Mordred said gravely.


    "On the contrary," spoke the first animunculi. "You are the Emperor of the World now. The responsibilities of the empire, of its relations with the other peoples of the world, and any affairs of war are now yours. We simply wish to make our stance on this imminent matter clear from the onset yet understand if you require more time to process this or require more of a discussion. Therefore, later, once the festivities have ended, I will remain here in order to speak with you further. The dragon never dies!" it said before all of the animunculi bowed as one and parted in order to let Emperor Mordred back out into the throng.


    The Emperor stepped forward with a look upon his face quite shaken. Before anyone had a good chance to see this expression, though, Knight Gawain stepped forward and stood before his Emperor. "Your majesty," he called out over the roar of the crowd. "Do not look so glum! This is a day of celebration in your name. Do not let your people see you so troubled. Leave the politics for later. For now, revel in the glory!"


    "Yes," Emperor Mordred said, his smile returning by force to his lips, "you are right. Come, Gawain, let us carry on."


    So they did carry on, passing through the crowd of people much as they had been before with the Knights keeping a vigil and shielding the emperor from those who might find themselves too zealous. Though a smile remained on the emperor''s lips the words of the animunculi troubled him greatly. He found himself looking around for the small group of ambassadors only to find that most of them were making their way out of the hall, their purpose fulfilled. The one remained and made its way slowly, so as not to barrel through the mob of celebrating people, towards the door through which Mordred had entered as a prince; doubtless to find sanctuary in a more empty part of the imperial palace. The newly ordained emperor tried to keep his mind off of what had been said to him and yet he found the task difficult and his head felt heavy.


    Eventually he was escorted to the back of the room where the Nobles of the Bloodlings stood. These unnerved Mordred in a way that the animunculi never could. For while he might let his imagination get the better of him at the capabilities of such metallic giants, the Bloodlings were a much more uncanny lot. Despite their extremely close appearance to ningen they were anything but. The only way to tell them apart would be to get them to smile with their teeth and reveal their fangs. None the less they were subjects of the Empire and deserved the same courtesies as all others. As Emperor Mordred approached the Bloodlings crowded together and clapped their hands. They smiled and their smiles seemed genuine.


    "Wonderful weather for a coronation of a new Emperor of the World!" one of the Bloodlings spoke, a fair and beautiful woman with long, spiraling chestnut hair that swooped over her left shoulder. She wore a dress of a bright lime green and jewels of a dark forest hue upon her wrists and neck.


    "I had hoped that it would be sunny if I am to tell the truth," Emperor Mordred said, sparing a glance towards the not so distance doors that would lead out from the throne room and into the outer palace.


    "Nonsense! For us Bloodlings, this weather is perfect save for the rain. No irritation for our skin! We can enjoy the celebration to our hearts'' content! And, my, what a feast you have presented for us!" she said, standing up on her toes and doing her best to exaggerate a cursory glance around the room ¨C specifically at the ningen who surrounded her. "How very gracious and understanding of his majesty!"


    "Oh, stop it, you!" another Bloodling spoke out, a middle aged man in an adornment of crisp white and cool, sharp blue. His tunic was laced with decoration and fitted perfectly to show off the man''s wide chest. He stepped forward and bowed his head lightly to the Sovereign before him. "Forgive her, your grace, she merely jests! We would not think of disrupting your day with such a... well, barbaric notion!" He smiled and she smiled and Emperor Mordred could see the tips of their upper four fangs poking out from underneath their lips. His stomach churned lightly at the thought of these dignitaries turning upon his own people!


    "No, of course not. I was aware that she merely joked," Emperor Mordred replied keeping his smile up.


    "About the feast, yes," replied the Bloodling in green. "But I was deathly serious about the weather. It is most fortuitous for me and my lot to be able to mingle beneath the shade without the glare of the sun to keep us under cover. It may seem drab to you, your majesty, but truly this is a blessed day! Do not let the rain spoil this event. Remember it well, and remember it often! We are pleased to be here and to be a part of this, your empire!"


    "I thank you," Emperor Mordred said, extending his hand to shake. The Bloodling in green fawned and reached out her hand to delicately place it within the emperor''s. The Bloodling in white and blue firmly grasped the emperor''s hand in his gloved one and smiled broadly. So it went as he went from one Bloodling Noble to the next, shaking hands, making light conversation, going through the motions of polite interactions. To the Bloodlings, perhaps most of all, this was a party, an occasion for celebration. They had not the worries that the emperor nor the animunculi had about any future conflicts over the fate of the crown and thus the empire as a whole. They had little to no stakes in it after all. It was established long ago that the ningen and Bloodling empires would merge as one, formally creating The Empire as it now was today. The relationship was tenuous, though, for quite a long time. Bloodlings fed upon ningen for sustenance ¨C rarely to the point of dying, but all the same. The two races had historically struggled to get along with each other.


    Bloodlings existed in a shadow society ¨C one that mirrored that of ningen. They were the underground, the shadowy folk, much of what went bump in the night. It had been very difficult for Modred''s ancestors to come to terms with the nobility of Bloodlings, yet terms had been made. Even now, though, nearly four centuries after the peace negotiations had ceased there was tension. Emperor Mordred might have been the Sovereign Lord of each and every Bloodling he shook hands with but he did not hold sway on their governing bodies. Indeed he knew little about the politics of the Bloodling underworld. They handled their own affairs and made certain that they did not see the light of day so as to keep balance with the so-called ''surface empire'' of ningen. They were a mysterious and closed off people who were rarely seen during the day.


    So it went that Emperor Mordred shook hands with every Bloodling Nobel who was present and smiled at compliments and returned them in kind. The talk was small yet it needed to be just that in order to get from one delegate to the next. All the while his Knights followed his every step and made sure that the passing was made as easy as possible. Once the Emperor had shared his time with them the Bloodlings, most of them anyway, turned to leave the hall. Without needing to say Mordred knew that they were retreating somewhere that they could wait the rest of the day out. Despite the rain the morning sun was still looming just beyond the clouds and the festivities would go on well into the night. They could afford to wait for the cover of darkness and the illumination of moonlight to mingle with their fellow subjects.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Not the Emperor though. After the Bloodlings it was back to being almost touched and fawned over by the ningen who made up the vast majority of his guests that day. He had to admit that it was refreshing to be around people who he felt he knew much more intimately than the Bloodlings. Despite their manners and fanciful talk Emperor Mordred felt that they shared a similar sort of hollowness than the nobility of his own court had, though the nature of it was different somehow. He did his best not to dwell on it as he parted the crowd of people who cheered and cried for him, making his way towards the entrance to the hall that lead outside.


    As he approached the doors a pair of soldiers moved through the crowd in order to step in front of the tall doors. They stood facing forward in perfect unison, not looking directly at their liege, and reached out with opposite arms as he approached placing them against the door. Mordred stood before the doors for a moment and knew exactly what was behind them. How many times had he stepped past the heavy wooden doors and onto the stone landing that was sheltered by the short stone roof which hung out over it supported by eight columns, four to each side? How many times had he walked or strode or ran, skipped, was carried down or simply sat upon the thirty-two steps which lead down to the courtyard proper? How many days had he gone by passing through the barrier that he was about to pass through now and never once, in his entire life, imagined what it would be like to do so as Emperor?


    Emperor Mordred took in a breath and held it, nodding to the soldiers, before letting it out slowly. They pushed the doors back in unison and the sound of the rain falling onto the ground outside collided with the sound of clapping from the room behind him. Dull gray sunlight and the smell of petrichor washed over the Emperor and was all overcome by the uproar of even more people outside! The citizens of Damocles were thronged in the courtyard, crowding up as far as ten steps away from where their new Emperor now stood, standing in the pouring rain and cheering upon seeing their new sovereign! The sound of the crowd was as nothing that Mordred had ever experienced for himself before. The seemingly deafening cheers and claps of all those who had been in the room where he had been crowned were as the sound of a pin compared to the tremendous drum that was the people before him!


    Emperor Mordred smiled and looked out at his people. There must have been thousands of them, at the very least the citizenry of Damocles if not more who had come from far and wide for him and for this day, to be a part, however small, of history in the making. A weightlessness overcame him as if the ear-ringing crescendo were lifting him up! He stepped forward outside and the loyal Knights followed him. He stopped just short of where the rain was falling and the eleven Knights spread out on either side of him with Knight Gawain standing at his back. With excitement and glee the emperor raised his hands above his head and saluted them all! Never before had he felt such a feeling of accomplishment!


    Yet now, hours later, after all the smiling and the cheering, the pleasant talks and the foreboding feelings, he was left alone to himself by his own request. Knight Gawain had lead him to his quarters and assured him that he was to take as much time as he liked before emerging again. "No one holds dominion over you in the slightest anymore," he had said. "I will be waiting for you and your council, as will the rest of your subjects. If you should decide you do not wish to hold it, simply tell one of the guards outside of your door and they will relay the message to us." With that he had left, closing the door quietly and leaving the newly crowned emperor to his thoughts. Most of all he simply felt tired.


    He stared down at the crown at his feet, a crown that had always been his fathers'' in his eyes and he simply couldn''t quite understand that it was now his. The concept of ownership was not foreign to him, he knew what an inheritance was. Yet this crown and all that it signified did not feel as if it belonged to him. The world, he felt, did not belong to him as it should have. The emperor let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He felt so very tired from seeing all of those people who cheered him on and loved him. He felt that he was exhausted and did not want to do another thing that entire day. Yet...


    ***


    Emperor Mordred opened up the doors to the council room, drawing the attention of all who were inside. The room itself, which was positioned behind the throne room where he had been crowned emperor and on the opposite side of the spiral stairs, was a long, tall room. The windows were high up and let in little light on rainy days such as this. Candles were lit and sitting within sconces upon the walls as well as on the large table. The table was round and slightly oblong with a carved and painted detailed map of the entire world upon it, the planet which the newly crowded emperor ruled. Around the table were many ningen who had held council with his father on many occasions ¨C occasions that he had rarely been allowed to sit on. Knight Gawain was there among them, still dressed in his ceremonial garbs and standing next to an empty chair. Also present was the animunculi who had said he would meet with the emperor later. The tall metal man stood off away from the table and it''s blue eyes fell upon Mordred as he pushed the doors open himself.


    Mordred was wearing only that which he needed to wear to remain decent. Anything unnecessary had been stripped before coming to this meeting. The only accessory was the crown which sat upon his golden head. He strode into the room with a certainty that one would have been forgiven in thinking had come from a lifetime of ruling. Those who were there and not already standing stood up as he approached. Mordred waved his hand and the doors behind him were pulled closed, the large wooden frames creaking as the heavy wings were drawn shut, the gasp of the latch sending a faint wave of air through the room that jostled air, flame and banner alike.


    "My Emperor, we wish to thank you for attending this very important meeting," spoke a man who Mordred looked at as he spoke and yet could not for the life of him recall his name despite having heard it and even memorized it many times. He knew that it was likely just the stress and exhaustion of the day getting to him for he knew the names of every ningen in that room even if he could not recall them. He did not reply as he made his way around the table and towards the ornate wooden throne that sat at what was considered the head of the table, near the eastern border of the mainland continent.


    "We understand that this has been a trying day for you and, well, a rewarding one as well! To be named Emperor of the World, well, that''s...!" the man laughed jovially, seemingly unable to find the words to fully express what he was saying yet they all knew what he meant. Another man spoke up.


    "Despite that, there are matters which need attended to urgently. As sovereign these matters fall to you to tend to. I do not mean to be crude, but-"


    "Yes, we are at war. I know. Sit," Mordred commanded, the words coming naturally to him as he himself took a seat and all present followed suit; save for the animunculi who continued to stand at a distance. "These matters concern our allies on Golem''s Isle as well. Will you not join us?" Mordred asked as he looked towards the metallic representative.


    "I will do so in spirit, but I fear that my metal frame might not fit so well in so small a chair," the animunculi spoke, stepping forward out from the light of a candle and towards the table itself though it chose to stand two paces away. This was enough for Mordred who turned back to the men whose names he could not quite recall before him. "When you''re ready then," he said, lightly waving his hand and sitting back in his seat.


    "As your majesty commands," and older man spoke. The man, Mordred knew, had been a very close friend of his father and had been on the council for many years. His word and advice were highly respected. He was a bald man with white hair and beard, what remained of his hair circling around the sides and back of his head and falling like fog around his shoulders. His wrinkles were many yet the dark brown eyes in his head were young and diligent. "It is as you said, we are at war. Your brothers pose an unprecedented threat to the line of succession and the Empire as a whole! We have remained idle in these matters long enough I believe. Rebuilding Damocles is all well and good, and positioning battalions of soldiers at strategic points around the city is very wise, but I feel that we are simply waiting for Ganymede and Bayamon to strike first!"


    "What is more," said another man, younger, with long, thin black hair and a face just as slim with narrow, bright eyes. "Wars are not cheap. We will have to figure out a way to fund the military and prepare for what is to come. More than that, we will have to find a way to do so without losing the public''s favor. Coronation ceremonies are a nice distraction, but I dare say that the citizenry will not look kindly upon a new Emperor who increases taxation for the sake of fighting his own flesh and blood," he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows upon the table. His words made it exceedingly clear that this meeting was not to be taken lightly.


    "Yes, yes, quite right," said a portly man who Mordred knew to be in charge of keeping track of the Empire''s treasury. He knew exactly how many coins came in and out of the vaults in Damocles at any given time or any other vault which was under the direct control of the Emperor. His clothes said as much being made of the finest garments and most dazzling embroidery of anyone there, including Mordred.


    "While we are on the matter of war and its'' costs, might I inquire as to if I heard correctly?" said another younger man who could not have been a decade older than Mordred himself. His hair was short and the color of honey, his face square and soft looking but his eyes focused and sharp. "Is it true that in this matter, our allies the animunculi are not to be supporting us? I was told as such by a trusted friend earlier today during the coronation, who over heard just such a notion!"


    At this many of the men began to speak at once, mumbling or talking in harsh, worried tones. They looked to their metal guest and back to themselves. Confusion and worry spread from man to man. All the while the animunculi stood and remained silent up until Emperor Mordred raised his hand. "Enough!" he called out, calling for silence which came gradually. "I was told that the ambassador would explain himself further here in this meeting. We owe our ally the animunculi the chance to divulge these details."


    There came some small grumbles from some of the more outspoken members of the council but little else as the animunculi ambassador raised its'' left arm and placed its'' hand over its'' chest. "If the Emperor would be so kind as to allow me to speak?" it asked, looking towards the newly crowned emperor who nodded his head. The blue eyes automaton turned and looked back on the room at large.


    "What was said to Emperor Mordred before was no lie. We do not intend to intervene in any way in this conflict. Do not misunderstand!" The ambassador held up both of its'' hands in front of itself defensively. "We do not wish to end our long standing alliance whatsoever. Ambassadors have been sent to seek out Princes Ganymede and Bayamon as well with the implicit job of giving them the exact same news that I am now delivering to you. It is as you said earlier ¨C this is a civil war. One which will dictate the line of succession and, further more, the future of the Empire. Because of this, we animunculi of Golem''s Isle have evoked our right to remain neutral on such matters, so as to retain our alliance no matter the course history takes."


    There came a clamor at this declaration that had been slowly building up since around the beginning of it being said. Men stood up from their chairs and spoke sternly to the anuminculi ambassador who simply stood and weathered the flurry of voices that might as well have been tongues. They spoke about Emperor Mordred''s rightful claim to the throne, of the ceremony which had taken place only hours before. They decreed that the Emperor''s brothers were unfit to ever have a claim on the throne again! Words were thrown back and forth, some calling for calmer words others demanding an answer and a declaration of fealty. Only the ambassador, the emperor and his Knight were silent. Finally when there had been enough noise Gawain stood up from his chair and drew his sword from its'' sheath. He grabbed a hold of the blade and swung the guard down onto the table, the loud knocking cutting through the chatter and the noise. "Peace!" he called out. "Peace! Let the ambassador speak!"


    Gradually as Knight Gawain hammered on the table the voices quieted down. Many who had chosen to stand up remained standing though some did retake their seats. All looked towards the tall metal man who stood among them as a supposed ally and a foreigner at once. When all was quiet it continued.


    "We of Golem''s Isle see it thus: The brothers Ganymede, Mordred and Bayamon all have an equal claim to the throne. They are all of their fathers'' blood and at the end of all things, should none of them sire an heir and should only one remain standing; he, and no one else, will sit upon the throne. It is to he that we must give our loyalties, for this is how we will preserve peace between ningen and animunculi. If we were to support one brother or another, or all for that matter, then it would leave us in an unfortunate position. One that, no matter who rests upon the throne, would put us in a spot of mistrust and unease. Therefore, we cannot side with anyone and must remain neutral."


    "You speak out of turn! Before the emperor who you have just sworn fealty to!" a large man wearing warm reds and oranges bellowed, his brow furrowed and his gaze boring into the metallic dignitary. Knight Gawain would not see the start of more bickering and quickly interjected.


    "Do not be such a fool! Actually listen to what is being said rather than jumping to conclusions! Ambassador," he said, his tone lowered now that he was speaking to one who he felt was not out of line. "The aniumculi, back on Golem''s Isle. They can see and hear all of this I assume, yes?"


    "You assume correctly. Those who have the capacity to weigh in on this decision are all watching and feeding me information as we speak. It is for them that I speak directly in real time. They hear your concerns and are resolute in their decision."


    "But without the support of the animunculi..." the warm dressed man said, a hint of despair creeping upwards in his voice as he sank back down into his seat. "We will be at a dangerous disadvantage... Prince Bayamon and Ganymede are somewhere out in the world doing who knows what and we will not even have the capacity to know before it is too late!"


    "Do not be so dramatic and presume us to be so helpless without our allies!" Knight Gawain said harshly, directing the pommel of his blade at the councilman who spoke. "You forget much as you are not a man of war. Allow me to set your mind at ease. Even without the animunculi we are still in alliance with the Bloodlings. Their vast underground grapevines will be of much use to us in the days to come. We need not animunculi spies and thopters to find out where Princes Bayamon and Ganymede are or what they''re doing! We do not require their great war machines to win this civil war! The animunculi do not speak of betrayal but of true loyalty, as do I! Listen to what he''s saying ¨C really, actually listen! Our animunculi brethren are not loyal to a man or to a cause but to the throne itself! They helped to make this world what it is today and have remained steadfast in maintaining it since long before any of us were ever born! Do you not think that they would remain committed to that cause?" asked the First Knight as he replaced his blade back into his sheath, its'' purpose fulfilled.


    One of the councilmen scoffed, a middle aged man of brown hair wearing blues and purples. "If the Bloodlings are to be such a help, why are none of them here now?" he asked with cynicism in his voice. Mordred knew that this man, like himself, had long expressed unease about the Bloodlings so it was no surprise that he called them into question now.


    "Because our emperor did not see it fit to ask one of them to be here," Knight Gawain said simply, retaking his seat next to Mordred. "Wars are not won over night, gentlemen. It will take time on all sides to prepare and we need not rush from one ally to the next in search of support lest we seem as weak children before a bully."


    Men were beginning to take their seats all over now, much quieter than they had been but moments before. Whether they liked it or not was now irrelevant, they all understood in one way or the other that the animunculi ambassador was there to reaffirm its and all others like its'' loyalty to the empire itself, regardless of who wore the crown. Some were not so eased by this news as others but all were accepting of it.


    "The Lord Knight speaks wisely, as usual," the animunculi said, bowing its head. "He sums up our position nicely. To maintain loyalty to the throne, we must choose inaction in this time of unrest. As was said to the newly crowned emperor before, any matters involving the rebuilding of Damocles will not be withdrawn. What''s more, any animunculi who are already in service to the Empire will remain as such. We will not be withdrawing from the Empire as a whole. We will simply not play a part in military matters on any side."


    "His majesty has been very quiet since this meeting began," observed the man in blue and purple. "What say he about this so called loyalty?"


    To this all turned to look at Emperor Mordred who had in fact been keeping to himself on purpose. When he was much younger and his father would invite him to similar, although never quite this serious, meetings he had developed a habit of sitting quietly, watching, and listening very carefully; a habit that he carried with him now. He looked from one man to the next, to Knight Gawain who sat with a patient look and finally to the animunculi ambassador who stood nearby; his primary purpose for being there over while he remaining purpose was to witness his actions as Emperor and deliver in real time what he intended to do to those watching in the far south. Slowly he sat up straight in his chair before standing and crossing his arms behind his back.


    "Ningen of the council. I respect your concerns and share them as my own. I respect the stance that the animunculi have chosen to taken upon the urgent matter at hand. I respect the feelings and experience of Knight Gawain who clearly has experience in such matters in ways that I simply do not. He, as well as all of the other Knights, are invaluable to the days that are to come. Make no mistake; I do not intend to abdicate the throne to either my brother Bayamon or Ganymede!"


    The Emperor uncrossed his arms and placed the tips of his fingers on the table before him, looking at the map that represented all that he held within his power as rightful and lawful ruler of the world as he continued to speak. "The animunculi are not the deciding factor in this war. True they would be of great help in quelling the rebellions my brothers wage but we are far from defenseless without them. Discounting the forces that both of my brothers left with we still command eleven legions, each one outfitted with twenty thousand soldiers give or take what was stolen from us. We have the Psychopomps at our disposal to back up those legions. We have the arms and armories and blacksmiths and food and funds that neither of my brothers possess! And we have the Knights of the Empire to lead them all into battle. More than this we have the Bloodlings to work as spies for us and bolster our legions if necessary, we have the people of Mirage working night and day for the Empire to discover new sciences and more! So much more!


    "Ningen of the council," Emperor Mordred said, lifting his head up and looking at everyone present with a wide, sweeping gaze. "If you have any doubts as to who will win this war then let me be the first to assure you of this: Our numbers are greater. Our resources, greater. Our armies greater. Our resolve greater! This petty squabble between siblings will not last long and will serve as a cozy reminder for the histories to be written that what this empire is, what it stands for, and what it protects is made so by the living will of dragons who dwell within each and every citizen of this world! Anyone who would try to stand against such creatures as us shall know the folly of facing the dragons'' tooth, claw and fire! We will win this war and when it is done I will continue the work my father started and make this empire greater than it has ever been before! I swear this as the ninety-ninth emperor, your Sovereign and your Lord: The dragon never dies!"


    There were cheers had by some. Others sat in somber silence. Most were reassured by what Emperor Mordred had said but others had doubts; not the least of which was the emperor himself whose heart was beating furiously in his chest. He stood up straight and looked to his First Knight for reassurance. Knight Gawain smiled and bowed his head in a gesture of subservience and respect. Mordred took comfort in this nod and looked back at the world on the table. Somewhere on that map were his brothers, hiding from him, planning, growing stronger by the day. He believed in every word that he said. Wars were not won in a matter of days. They took time, planning and careful maneuvering. This would not be the last meeting that he had like this, it was merely the first. The days to come were to be long, dark, troubling and devastating, yet he had full conviction in his cause and confidence in his beliefs. He was the Emperor of the World, and no one would take that away from him now.

 Chapter 5

    The door to Joscur''s home opened and two young women stepped inside. The first was younger, sixteen, and her arm was held by the second. She had dark skin like her father and her hair was bright ginger, long and kinky. She wore a lightly woven dress of bright blue and yellow that cut off at the shoulders and left her arms and throat bare. It did well to hide her figure and she stepped with a quiet sort of ease as she was guided by the arm by her companion. Wrapped around her eyes was a small sash of matching blue. The second woman was older and wore predominantly yellow though there were splashes of white here and there along the side of her outfit. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and tied off with a piece of twine. She stopped in the doorway and held back on her companions'' bare arm to let her know that they should go no further.


    "Marisia? Is that you?" called Joscur from somewhere within the house. His voice rang out clearly and firmly as it always did. She could hear her father coming from the other room as clearly as if he were walking right beside her. The sound made visible the rest of the home for her.


    "Yes, I am home!" she called back knowing that it would be a few steps more before he was in the same room as she was. She breathed in through her nose and picked up the scent of cooking; the spices and the heat. She could tell just by the fragrance of the seasonings used that this was a larger meal. Her father was expecting company.


    Joscur entered the room and strode across the floor towards his daughter and his guest who still held onto the arm of Marisia. Though she could not see it she could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Thank you so much for looking after her today! Did you have fun in the markets?"


    "Yes, all was well," the young woman replied. There was slight relief in her voice that Marisia could hear and she was not na?ve enough to not know why it was there. Her father had gone out into the Wastes and had turned her over to Kara, Marisia''s friend and escort, while he was away. She knew full well by now that it was in case anything happened to him while he was out in the scorching desert but had not the heart to tell herself this honestly. She preferred to leave it unsaid within her heart. Kara turned and relinquished Marisia''s arm as her father came close and placed his hand tenderly on his daughter''s shoulder. "I must be getting home. Dinner is likely waiting for me as it is for you!" Kara said cheerfully before reaching down and squeezing Marisia''s hand. "Goodbye for now! I will see you some other time, okay?"


    "Goodbye Kara," Marisia said with a smile, her head turned slightly towards the direction of her old friend. Their goodbyes exchanged, Kara turned and left the doorway of their home closing the door behind her. Joscur reached out and placed his other hand on his daughters'' shoulders so as to hold her attention for just a moment more. "We have company, and I want you to hear it from me first," he said to her. There was a tone of reservation on his voice that was strange to Marisia. Normally her father was so sure with his words and unafraid to say anything. The trepidation made her consider if perhaps her father had finally brought home a woman! He had said often enough that he wanted no other since her mother had died and in her younger years this had brought comfort to her. As she had grown older her sentiments had changed a bit, up to the point that she wouldn''t have minded if there was a woman there in the house at least.


    "Oh? Who is it?" she asked, trying not to let on what she suspected.


    "They are upstairs. Do not go up and disturb them. Let them come down when they are ready, or when food is prepared. I do not want to overwhelm them with too many new people. They have had a long day already..." Joscur trailed off and removed his hands from his daughters'' shoulders, turning and walking back towards the kitchen from where he''d come from. His words incited Marisia''s curiosity even further. The way he spoke of their guest made her dismiss the possibility of it being another woman. Her face turned towards where she knew the stairs to be and she thought to herself, just who could be up there?


    Marisia stepped forward and walked effortlessly through their home with careful, practiced footsteps. Outside of their home was ever changing, full of people and things that moved from place to place. It was impossible for her to move on her own without some sort of guide or assistance in the world outside. Here in her home, however, she knew where everything was. Her father went to lengths to make sure that things were always in their place for her and if something was moved or something new was added he would tell her and let her feel out where things were. Through years of bumping her feet and legs against things, of holding her arms out and feeling the walls, of counting her footsteps as she moved from one object to the next and back again, of complete consistency in her surroundings, she had gained within her own home a kind of sight that she could have nowhere else.


    Eight steps diagonally to the right of the doorway there was a short drop off to a square area carved out of the floor that housed many cushions and a small table made of stone and glass that sat in the center. She took her ninth step down into this area and her foot found the familiar, soft touch of the cushions underneath. She stepped on them and moved four steps further to her direct right before taking a seat on the cushion beneath her with her lower back resting against the cool stone of the floor behind her. She turned her head back towards where she perceived the stairs to be and again found herself thinking of who was in the house with them.


    Her thoughts were interrupted by her father calling out, "Daniellex will be over before long to visit!"


    "Uncle Daniellex?" Marisia asked excitedly, turning her head in the direction her fathers'' voice had come from. Marisia was very fond of the squat burly man and always had been. He treated her like she were part of his family and was always kind, always understanding and helpful. He and her father were much more like brothers than friends and he was not an unusual or unwelcome thing within their home. ''If he is coming over,'' she found herself thinking, ''then perhaps the guest upstairs is someone meant for Daneillex?''


    "Is our upstairs guest here for Uncle Dani?" Marisia asked, never one to be shy about asking questions.


    "No, now hush about our guest! You will meet him before long, come in here and help me with food!" Joscur called out, hoping to keep his daughter occupied with making food so that she couldn''t ask him any more questions about their guest. He knew that explaining it all was going to be difficult and wanted to approach the subject on his own terms.


    Naturally for a young woman though the distinction that their guest was male came as something more yet of intrigue. A man? A boy? Someone her age? She was filled with questions and as she got up from the cushions, turning to her left and walking a few tender steps up onto the stone floor and then fifteen steps directly forward, she reached out and touched the wall to her right that marked the entrance to the small kitchen that they had before taking two steps forward and, reaching with her left hand, touching the counter that wrapped around the sides of the room.


    "A boy? Have you brought home a suitor for me?" she asked playfully. She didn''t believe for a second that her father would do such a thing!


    "Hush! Give me that ladle there!" Marisia''s father said harshly, snapping his fingers and pointing towards her. He was on her left and she knew to feel around the counter top as she walked along it until she felt the utensil laying there. She picked it up and brought it to her father, holding it out for him to take which he promptly did and began to stir the metal pot.


    "Who is he then? You must be able to tell me something!" Marisia urged as she turned and rested the small of her back against the counter, her hands laying flat atop it beside her.


    "His name is William. We found him wandering in the Wastes today. I offered to give him a place to rest his head until he gets a place of his own, he lets us know where it is that he needs to get to... or the council decides what to do with him," he answered, his words growing slightly grim and Marisia could hear this. She knew that her father made regular trips out into the wastes in order to explore, to gather resources and to help maintain the peace that Mirage had enjoyed for many years now. That was all she knew, aside from she knew better than to ask for more specifics when her father sounded as he did. Some things were better left unsaid was the rule when it came to such things.


    "I see... William is a peculiar name, no?" she inquired. She wanted to maintain the conversation without stepping into any conversational landmines. It was often a delicate tiptoe to do as such but she had gotten good at it over the years.


    "Yes. There is much that is peculiar about our guest..." Joscur stated, trailing off into silence. A few seconds passed in silence between them with Joscur stirring the pot. Marisia stayed quiet and waited for her father to go on. He didn''t usually get quiet like this and it was beginning to make her nervous.


    Joscur pulled the ladle out from the pot and tapped it on the rim a few times before setting it aside. He reached out and touched his daughter''s shoulder and she reached up to grab his hand, smiling softly. "We need to try and make him feel welcome as long as he is here. Do not push him for too many details. Let him tell you in his own time," he urged her. She nodded.


    "Yes, baba," she agreed.


    It wasn''t long after that that the door to their home opened once more and in walked Daniellex, one hand outstretched to push the door open and the other holding on firmly to the leg of a young boy, Vamenco, who was sat squarely on his shoulders and his hands nestled in his thick hair. He was the younger brother of Marisia and son of Joscur, wearing a bright blue tunic and white pants, his feet bare. Daniellex held the boys sandals in his right hand and as the two stepped through the door way the boy had to duck his head to avoid bumping it on the frame. As they entered Marisia lifted her head and turned it so that her ear were pointed towards the door, listening.


    She recognized Daniellexs'' voice immediately. "We are home!" he boomed, closing the door behind him and reaching up to lift young Vamenco from off of his shoulders and setting him down on the floor. The young boy laughed, his cheeks puffing up into round pinch-able mounds and his hair, just as bright orange as his sisters'', bounced as he exclaimed excitedly. Joscur looked up from what he was doing in the kitchen and smiled himself. "Dani, my friend! Do I hear Vamenco with you?" he asked as he turned back to his task of cooking.


    "You do! I found him playing in the streets with some other children and thought I should bring him home," Daniellex said, reaching down and ruffling the young Vamencos'' hair before patting him on the back of the head. The young boy turned and began to run through the house. Marisia moved from where she stood and made her way out of the kitchen, smiling as she felt her hand on the entrance to the kitchen that connected it to the living room.


    "Pleasant moons, Uncle Dani! Father told me that you would be coming," she said. Daniellex grunted and stepped over towards the cushions. He always made to sit down as quickly as possible when he came over to visit.


    "That is good. It is an exciting evening after all. How could I miss out?" he asked and his tone, too, had the vague tinge of grimness to it that had been on his fathers'' tongue as well. It filled Marisia with an apprehension that she did not enjoy. It was a rare thing for both her father and Uncle Dani to sound worried about something. Her thoughts again turned to their guest William who she had not heard yet. She cocked her head slightly as though to turn her ear towards the ceiling to listen. Just what was all of the commotion about?


    "Hey, hey, hey, do not sit down just yet! I could use an extra pair of hands in here!" Joscur called out right as Daniellex was kneeling down to sit. The squat mound of muscles that was Daniellex locked in place and grunted again as he worked to right himself. "Come now! I am your guest! Why not have your daughter help you?" the burly man called in protest, wanting desperately to sit after being on his feet all day.


    "She has done her part, now come do yours! Marisia, would you wrangle your brother and let him know that we have another guest?" Joscur asked. Marisia turned to her father and nodded, knowing that catching her brother was going to be a task all its'' own. He loved trying to run and hide from her because of her blindness. She knew that he meant no harm by it, that it was as much of a game as any he played with the children in the streets, but that made it no less annoying when her father asked her to get a hold of him. Pushing herself off of the wall she moved into the living room and Daniellex made his way into the kitchen. She paused after a few short steps and listened for her brother who was still frantically running around. It made figuring out where he was easy enough at least.


    "Where oh were could Vamenco be?" she called out, holding her arms out in front of her and waving them back and forth for dramatic effect. She took a step forward and listened, hearing the giggling of her sibling and knowing where he was. She had long since learned that the best way to get a hold of her excitable younger brother was to play a game with him and so play a game she did. "I must find him, for I am a hungry reausler and wish to feast on bad little children!" she called out, hunching forward and taking a few more steps as she swept her arms to and fro. Once more she heard Vamenco giggling and the patter of his feet and knew that he was off to her left, not far from the stairs. She knew that she needed him not to go up there because that was where their mysterious guest, William, was and she doubted that someone who had been lost in the Wastes would want an energetic young child bothering them ¨C especially if they were still resting.


    She moved to her left and down, stepping on some cushions and pausing, cocking her head up in an overly exaggerated fashion for the sake of the game. She moved to the right. No sounds from Vamenco. To the left and there she heard, a small choked bit of laughter before the sound of steps moving over to her right. She smiled wide, calling out, "I am going to eat well tonight!" before charging, stepping and hopping with expert knowledge of her surroundings as she advanced towards where her brother was. Vamenco squealed and tried to run but she knew exactly where he was at this point and it did not take her long to reach out and grab a hold of his tunic, pulling him backwards and kneeling down to embrace him. "Haha! At last I have caught you! And now, I feast!" she cried, dipping her head down and planting kisses on her brothers'' shoulder and cheek while tickling his belly. Vamenco squealed and tried to wriggle out of her grasp but little else. The game was won and over with and he knew that.


    Pulling her head back she stood back up and grabbed onto her brothers'' small hand, leading him down to the pit of cushions and taking a seat. Her younger brother sat down with her and kept his hand in hers. It was a habit he had picked up as a way to better communicate with his blind sister. He knew that as long as she could feel him she knew he was there and listening, not quite understanding that she would know if he were to wander off. "Vamenco," she said to him. "Baba has a guest over that we are to meet tonight."


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "A guest?" he asked curiously, his fingers twitching in her palm. "Is it someone new?"


    "Yes. Baba told me that they were out in the Wastes, but other than that I do not know. They are resting upstairs, so you need to be good and not go up there alright? You remember how baba said the Wastes are an awful place?"


    "Yes," Vamenco said a bit quietly. It had only been within the last year that he had stopped having nightmares about imagined terrors that resided in the harsh sands outside of the barrier surrounding Mirage. He did not quite understand the harshness of the world surrounding him but he was apprehensive about it all the same.


    "Well, they have been lost out there for some time it would seem. Baba found him today and brought him home to rest. He will be staying with us for a little while, perhaps a day or two. So you must be on your best behavior!" Marisia urged.


    "Are they a boy like me?" Vamenco asked curiously.


    "I do not think so," Marisia said, withholding that she did not believe a boy like him could survive out there on their own.


    "Will they want to play?"


    "I do not know, but I doubt it. At least at first," she answered honestly, reaching out with her free hand and running it over her brother''s head. "His name is William and he will be joining us for dinner tonight."


    Vamenco giggled and balled his hand into a fist in her palm. "William," he said, enunciating each syllable to the best of his ability but still finding it a bit difficult to say. "That is a funny name!"


    "Yes, I think it is funny too," she admitted, letting go of her brothers'' hand and turning her head in the direction of the stairs. There was still so much she did not know about this William and she tried to think of what might be the best things to ask him.


    "Will they come down soon?" Vamenco asked.


    "Perhaps when dinner is ready..." Marisia answered.


    "When will dinner be ready?"


    "Soon, I hope. Are you hungry?" she asked, turning back to her brother.


    "Mhm! I have not eaten since noon and am hungry!" he cried.


    "Then I am sure you will eat a lot," she said idly, thoughts still hanging on William. How long had he been out in the Wastes? Why was he there in the first place? Was he from Mirage?


    "I will eat so much!" Vamenco declared excitedly, throwing his arms up and leaning back until he fell over and rolled to sit back up again. He looked over towards the kitchen were his father and Uncle Dani were standing next to each other. He could see that they were talking but could not hear what was being said. Marisia could not hear either for they whispered. Even if they were not she likely would not have heard them as her thoughts were preoccupied still.


    ''Is he a reaver? How far away from Mirage was he when baba found him? What does he sound like?'' she thought curiously. ''What should I ask him first?''


    "Dinner is done!" called Daniellex, carrying the pot of food towards the squat table. Marisia was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of this and the rich aroma of the food, Vamenco letting out a small cheer as he stood up and eyed the pot hungrily. He and her father were not far behind Uncle Dani who had his hands filled with bowls and utensils. "Marisia, will you come take these from me and set the table? I am going to go inform our guest that dinner is ready and ask if he wants to come down."


    "Yes, baba," she said dutifully, getting up from where she sat and moving towards the sound of her father''s voice. She held her arms out and waited for him to touch her before passing the bowls and utensils to her and then going up stairs. She turned and walked back towards the table but listened intently to the sound of her father''s foot steps as he climbed the stairs.


    "Here, allow me to help," Uncle Dani said, having sat the pot down on the table and taking a couple of the bowls from Marisia. He sat one down for himself and then another beside it, urging Vamenco to come sit by him who did so without complaint. Marisia stepped around them and, feeling the surface of the table with her fingers, sat down a bowl for her, her father, and their guest while also setting utensils beside them. She passed the remaining utensils to Daniellex and took a seat, waiting. The three of them sat quietly for a few moments as they all waited in anticipation. Daniellex eyed the pot of food as if to keep his attention on it rather than the guest that he knew was going to be coming down the stairs shortly, Vamenco couldn''t stop himself from half turning on the spot and looking up to the stairs, eager to get a glimpse of this mysterious new person first while Marisia sat with her head tilted forward, ears open and waiting.


    After what felt like several minutes but was only a handful of scant seconds in reality, she heard the sound of footsteps at the top of the stairs. The heavy, confident thud of her father''s feet against the sandstone stairs told her that he was coming down first. She ignored these steps and tried to focus, listening intently for the sound of their guest. What she heard, shortly after Joscur made it half way down the staircase, was the soft pad of feet that, to her, sounded as if they were intentionally trying to be quiet; it was almost as if he were sneaking down the stairs after her father. Yet the cadence of their steps suggested otherwise. The first thing that Marisia learned of this new person for herself was that they were light on their feet and quiet.


    "Hello!" Vamenco called out cheerfully, rising up on one knee as if to run up and greet the guest. Uncle Dani, however, was quick to turn his head and place a hand on his eager young shoulder.


    "Easy, sit back down and let him come to us," the burly man softly growled. The young boy looked to his uncle and nodded, sitting back down in place but looking over his shoulder at the still descending young man.


    "Thank you Daniellex," Joscur said, taking his place at the table and crossing his legs. Marisia could hear the soft steps approaching and turned her head so that her ears could follow along with his pace. "Please, have a seat," Joscur said warmly. Marisia could tell that he was smiling but that his smile was forced. His tone always gave away when he was smiling out of happiness and when he was smiling from obligation.


    William took his place between Marisia and Vamenco quietly. His sitting down was as quiet and controlled as his foot steps were. He was sat down for only a second before Vamenco leaned forward and excitedly greeted him. "Pleasant moons to you, stranger! I am Vamenco and this is my family! What is your name?"


    "Vamenco, please!" Joscur spoke up in the middle of his son''s greeting. Marisia could hear the genuine smile in his voice. He wasn''t scolding his son so much as trying to correct him. "I am sorry for my son, he is young and excitable..."


    "It''s alright," William replied softly. The sun-scorched stranger turned to Vamenco and said in turn, "My name is William. Thank you for having me for dinner."


    Polite and soft spoken. Marisia was learning more about their guest by the moment. Her father leaned towards her and said as softly as William, "He is smiling!" Marisia smiled at this and gave a curt nod. Her father had long since developed the habit of telling her what facial expressions people were making so that she could associate their sound of their voice with the visages she could not see.


    "Allow me to introduce you to my family. Vamenco is my youngest child and my only son, Marisia next to you is my eldest and my only daughter. You have already met Daniellex, my close friend and godfather to my children, their ''uncle''. Well, introductions have been made, so let us eat!" Joscur declared.


    "Yes!" Vamenco cried loudly, leaning over the table and reaching for the ladle only to have Daniellex once again reach out and place his thick hand over the little boys'' arm to restrain him.


    "Hey, hey, we have talked about this! It is rude to just lunge in for food like that!"


    "But I am hungry!" Vamenco whined.


    "I know you are, now give me your bowl and I will dish some out for you, and you will remember to wait next time!" Uncle Dani said, holding his hand out for Vamenco to fill.


    "Yes Uncle Dani," Vamenco pouted, doing as he was told.


    "Good lad," Daniellex said, leaning forward slightly with the bowl and dishing out some of the steaming bean-based stew that Joscur had prepared, only a single serving from the sound of it where the rest of them would start off with two. "William, would you like me to serve you?" Daniellex asked warmly.


    "I would appreciate that, thank you," William replied in his soft manner, picking up his bowl and handing it to Daniellex who met him half way as Vamenco picked up a utensil and began to eat. Two ladles of stew were placed in his bowl and passed back to him before William reached out and grabbed onto the lip of Marisia''s bowl.


    "Ah, ah, that''s alright, she is capable of doing that herself," Joscur spoke up. William froze in place for a moment before setting the bowl back down.


    "Sorry, I just assumed..." he said. Marisia could feel his gaze on her. The sound in his voice was one she was quite familiar with at this point; the sound of someone meaning well for her because of her blindness and not realizing that she didn''t need the good will of strangers for a task so small. She had come to appreciate these small acts of misguided kindness all the same when they weren''t condescending.


    "It is well, you did not know," she said, demonstrating her capability by serving herself. Unlike her brother, she sat her bowl down and waited for the others to be served before she began to eat. William filled his bowl after her and Daniellex after him. Joscur waited until the others had been served before getting his serving, as was customary for the head of the household in Mirage to do.


    "Please enjoy everyone. Dig in!" Joscur proclaimed, and they did.


    ***


    After eating his dinner Vamenco had fallen asleep right there at the table and the others were content to let him sleep while they continued to eat and talk. Mostly it was Joscur and Daniellex who spoke with one another, exchanging pleasantries, telling stories and talking at William, who kept quiet for most of the meal unless asked for a quick opinion on one thing or another, while Marisia kept equally quiet and listened, chiming in only when a story concerned her or required her input. They laughed heartily, even William, and young Vamenco slept soundly. Everyone respectfully did not inquire about William''s personage, history or where he had come from.


    Marisia could feel the slight tension in the air because of this, though. Near the beginning of the meal she had attempted to ask their guest how it was he had ended up in Mirage but her father had gently placed his hand on her arm and told her to leave it lie for the moment. She could tell from the sudden firmness in his voice that this was something that needed to be left for another time and so neither she or anyone else brought up the mysterious circumstances of William for the rest of the night. All the while she could tell that, while they were not probing their guest both Daniellex and her father wanted to. She could understand why it was that her father would want to talk to William about such things. He was, after all, a city guard. It was part of his job, as she understood it, to be wary of strangers who would enter their city and yet he was not asking now.


    Was he waiting for her to leave before he began questioning William? For that matter, what was William doing here at their house if he was a stranger to this city? Had her father been ordered to bring him here?


    Marisia had too many questions rattling around in her curious mind with no answers and she felt that her father and Uncle felt the same. By the time she had finished eating and was simply hanging back in the conversation she felt that she was about to burst with the longing for answers! William, for his part, had remained quiet and respectful the whole time, the gentleness in his voice giving her the impression of frailty. Finally she could take it no more.


    Rising from her seat she stepped over and knelt down to pick up her brother. "Taking the little one to bed are you?" Uncle Dani asked her during a pause in talk with her father.


    "Yes, your talking has put him well and truly to sleep!" she quipped with a smile, earning a chuckle from both Daniellex and her father. "I think I will retire as well."


    "The rest of us will follow shortly. It is a long day for many of us," Joscur replied. Daniellex was quiet at this apart from a grunt which Marisia took to mean that her father had given a hint that he needed to leave and head home soon. She nodded, turned and carefully stepped up out of the dinning area, walking around to pick up her brother, and made her way carefully over towards the stairs. As she ascended talking resumed between the three remaining sitters and she listened closely while not delaying the delivery of her brother to his rest.


    "I suppose I will be headed home then myself. It has grown dark but that has never bothered me none," Uncle Dani said, patting his belly from the sound of it.


    "Yes, that would be best. We will meet up again tomorrow, at the usual time," Joscur said. There came the sound of two men getting up and clasping their arms together ¨C sounds that she was quite familiar with. "Soft winds to you, Dani."


    "And to you," Daniellex replied. There was a pause as Marisia began to top the stairs and head into the upper hall. "You are in good hands, William. Trust this man here, he will not lead you astray."


    "Thank you," came the soft reply from William and that was the last that she heard as she went down, step by step, treading the path she knew lead to her brother''s room. Stepping inside she laid him down to sleep and then quietly made her exit, headed to her room and taking a seat on her bed where she sat quiet and thoughtful for a while. She''d grown so absorbed in her thoughts that she hardly heard the approach of her father and only raised her head to acknowledge him when he tapped on the doorway to announce his arrival.


    "May I come in?" Joscur asked his daughter. Marisia nodded and listened as her father walked into her room and sat down beside her on the bed. The sounds of his hands coming together let her know that he was about to talk with her in a serious manner as they always did when he had something important to say.


    "Our guest, William, will be staying in the guest room at the end of the hall," he informed her. "He is already made his way there for the evening and is resting now. If for any reason you hear him get up in the night or he comes and asks you for assistance, come and get me and I will help him, hm?"


    "Yes, baba," Marisia replied with a nod. There was a moment of quiet between them before her father spoke again.


    "So what do you think of our William?" he asked.


    Marisia took a moment to think, straightening her back on the bed as she thought the question over. "He is quiet," she said, "and mysterious. I still have many questions for him that I was not able to ask over dinner."


    "So do I," Joscur said, his voice laced with solemnity. There was another pause before he sighed and reached out to place his hand on his daughter''s shoulder. "Please try to pay him little mind. I do not know how long he will be with us, only that he is for now. By tomorrow he could be somewhere else or sent on his way. It is doubtful that he will be here long at any rate."


    "Yes, baba," Marisia said although she found herself intrigued by this suggestion. Why should her father tell her not to think of their guest while he is there? What was wrong with him that her father didn''t want her to get to know him more?


    "Good girl," her father said, leaning over and giving his daughter a kiss on the temple. He rose up from her bed and walked towards the doorway, saying as he went, "It is time we went to bed. Rest up and I will see you in the morning. Goodnight, Marisia."


    "Goodnight, baba," she said, smiling. She waited until her father could be heard no more before laying down in her bed and getting under her thin cover. She rolled over on her bed and slowly drifted off, her imagination running wild about the guest that was laying just down the hall from her.

 Chapter 6

    Morning came and found William little rested. Despite having spent as much of the night awake as he could, sleep had come and taken him before he realized, and by the time he had awoken his body had not yet fully rested. He stared up at the hazy ceiling for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the morning desert sun. With a sigh he went to push himself up and winced forgetting for a moment that his skin still hurt from exposure of the day prior. He rubbed his eyes and looked to the side of the bed in which he had slept. His sword was still there leaning against it. He relaxed a little bit.


    Stepping outside of the shade of the guest room, William looked down the hall towards the stairs and found it empty. He turned his head towards the window he had peered out of the night before and stepped towards it to do so again. Looking down that poster was still there ¨C ¡°For the Good of Us All¡± ¨C and looking up and over the roof of the building next to Joscur¡¯s home he peered out into Mirage. Already the sounds of a busy city were echoing softly like the sounds heard in a cave distant and unclear. He looked out towards all that he could see with lips held tight in a thin line. He still didn¡¯t know what was wrong with this city¡­


    Downstairs Joscur, Marisia and Vamenco were sitting and having breakfast. William could see them dining on a flat mostly white bread, each of them with their own small bowls of a creamy white sauce that they were dipping ripped pieces of their meal into. Each of them was wearing a simple if colorful ensemble of clothing different from what they had been wearing the night before. Joscur, especially, was in comparatively ordinary dress from what the Waste wanderer had first seen the day before. Marisia turned her head slightly at the sound of him descending the stairs. Joscur was next to notice his approach.


    ¡°Ah, William. Come, have some breakfast,¡± Joscur invited, quick to reach out and place a hand on his young sons¡¯ shoulder who, upon seeing William, rose to meet him in excitement! The gesture was enough to let the young boy know to stay in his seat.


    The black haired stranger made his way down the rest of the steps, sword in hand but gripped gently by the blade, showing no intention of using it, making his way to the same table he had eaten at the night before and taking a seat. Joscur grabbed a few pieces of the dirt-colored, speckled bread and passed them to William before asking his son to get a bowl of the white condiment for their guest. ¡°Have you had this before?¡± he asked his pink skinned guest. William shook his head.


    ¡°This is called manoushe, a type of light and airy bread made from grass grown on the mainland. It is very popular here in Mirage,¡± he said cheerfully as he ripped off a small piece of his own and chucked it into his mouth. Vamenco came back from the adjacent kitchen area with a small bowl messily filled with the same companion food as was in the rest of his family¡¯s bowls and pushed it excitedly into William¡¯s face.


    ¡°Here!¡± he exclaimed. William smiled and took the small bow, looking into the thick dollop that had been carelessly thrown into the container. Vamenco ran around the table and took his seat once William had received the treat, happy to have been of help.


    ¡°This is toum, a paste we make right here in Mirage. Very tasty! A perfectly companion to manoushe, go on! Try!¡± Joscur encouraged, demonstrating by tearing off another piece of bread and swiping it into his saucer-sized bowl to coat one side before popping it into his mouth.


    William did as he was shown and with no hesitation at that looking down at the table while he chewed and swallowed. The manoushe was just as light as it looked and easy to chew while the toum had a distinct but not overwhelming combination of garlic and citrus that complimented the naturally warm flavor of the bread quite nicely. ¡°It¡¯s good,¡± he agreed flatly. Joscur and Vamenco both smiled. Marisia had kept quiet up until that point but, ever inquisitive, that couldn¡¯t be for long.


    ¡°Why is it you carry a sword with you?¡±


    ¡°Marisia!¡± her father scolded sharply, the smile gone from his face as he looked at his daughter. She did not flinch and remained facing William. William did not give an answer save for ripping off another piece of bread. ¡°Save your questions for later, please. He has much to do today and can explain to us in time all there is he feels we need to know about him.¡±


    ¡°Yes, baba,¡± Marisia said with a sigh, her head dipping down as she broke off another piece of her breakfast. The tension released from the air and for a moment all was quiet around the table.


    ¡°You are to travel with me today, William,¡± Joscur spoke up after a moment. ¡°The council has questions for you and I am to deliver you unto them. They may have reached a conclusion on where it is you will be staying so long as you are within Mirage, although I doubt it after only a single night, but most likely they will try and give you a vocation so that you may contribute and earn your keep. Life is hard here in the Wastes, and everyone who is registered to the city must contribute in some form or another. Thus I expect you will be put to work in some fashion.¡±


    ¡°Is your son registered?¡± William asked without looking at his host.


    ¡°Not yet. Children do not register until they are ten,¡± Vamenco spoke up, eyes bright and voice shining with the pride of knowing something. ¡°One day I wish to be a city guard like baba!¡±


    ¡°And what does being a city guard mean?¡± William asked curiously, his eyes darting up from his morning meal.


    ¡°Mostly it means patrolling the city and breaking up drunken brawls,¡± Joscur replied candidly. ¡°The duties of a city guard are often monotonous and dull but are plentiful. Besides patrolling the streets, we are tasked occasionally with heading outside of the city in the event of¡­ unusual happenings. A pack of reausler growing close to the city perimeter, for example, or Reavers for that matter. Or our surveillance catching a glimpse of a boy lost in the desert sands.¡±


    ¡®Interesting,¡¯ William thought to himself. It became apparent after this statement that Joscur¡¯s children did not know everything that their father did. He had pegged him to be a more open and honest man than that. He imagined that a story of a strange boy falling from the sky would do nothing but enamor young Vamenco with curiosity, yet he had chosen not to tell them. That was different.


    ¡°Thankfully it is mostly a quiet job, but someone has to do it. In Mirage there is work for everyone, and everyone plays a part. Today you will most likely find out what yours is, and after I have delivered you to Natator Tower I will go about my duties, just as Marisia shall go about hers,¡± the father said, thrusting a piece of bread towards his daughter.


    ¡°What is it you do?¡± William asked her.


    ¡°I sort the discarded clothes in Scarlet Boulevard by shades of red,¡± she replied cheekily, earning a hearty chuckle from her father who appreciated his daughter¡¯s sense of humor. She smiled at her own wit and corrected herself. ¡°I help out in the markets. My friend, Kara, helps with my blindness when needed but otherwise I am just another pair of hands in the throng on most days. It is easy enough work to hand goods over and take currency,¡± she said with the slightest lacing of bitterness in her voice.


    ¡°And who watches Vamenco during the day while you two are gone?¡± William inquired.


    ¡°A caretaker comes and watches him during the day when no one else is home,¡± Joscur answered, receiving a shove from his son who had been on the verge of telling their guest that himself. He chuckled at the antics of his young son, reaching out and ruffling his vibrant hair. ¡°It is the job of many to watch after the young while their parents and family are out doing their duty to the city. Here it takes a city to raise a family. Now, come, finish your meal and we will be off.¡±


    Once they had finished their food, Joscur and William departed, leaving their dishes to be picked up by his children. Joscur made sure to give both of his children hugs and kisses upon their heads before leaving with William in tow who brought with him his sword. The day was still early and the streets were mostly empty in this part of Mirage for the time being.


    ¡°We should really get you a sheath for that sword,¡± Joscur said, looking back at William behind him who was purposefully staying a few steps back and looking all about him as though searching for something. ¡°If you would be willing to leave it with a blacksmith it could-¡±


    ¡°It stays with me,¡± William cut Joscur off curtly, his tone sharp. Joscur was silent and nodded his head, turning back around as he lead him through the city streets.


    ¡°For now. You will have to have a cover for it soon, though. City law dictates that there are to be no uncovered weapons for anyone that is not part of the city guard,¡± Joscur explained. ¡°I can see that you are unwilling to be apart from your blade for whatever reason, so at some point you will need to see a smith and let them fit it with a sheath while you watch I suppose. We do not have that sort of time now, though.¡±


    William gave no response to his but merely gripped his sword tighter.


    The two of them passed by in the shade of buildings in the early morning sun walking on stained glass streets. Joscus smiled at those they passed, giving greetings to whom he deemed needed them, pausing every so often to hold the hand of someone before explaining that he had to move on. William didn¡¯t understand the words that he used but anyone could see the intention behind them as well as his actions. This was a man who loved and cared for the citizenry of this oasis in the Wastes and would have happily spent the day with any one of them if given the chance. William had to wonder how leisurely his position as city guard was that he could afford to hold such a carefree attitude.


    The further towards the center of Mirage that they went the taller the buildings became. William took note of how the city was shaped like an upside down bowl and wondered if it had been designed that way on purpose or if it had incidentally grown in this shape over time. Were the taller buildings closer to Natator Tower intrinsically more important somehow? Businesses or higher standard living quarters? The layout of a city could tell you much about the priorities of those who ran it, William believed, and so took special note of the steadily growing architecture around them and kept his eyes open in ways that his ignorant ears were unable to.


    In time the pair of them made their way to Natator Tower with more and more of the flying animunculi passing over their heads as they drew near. When they arrived at the steps of the tower Joscur stopped and allowed William to pass him by. ¡°I must leave you here for now. I have other duties to attend to around the city,¡± he explained, giving the dark haired stranger pause to look back at his host. Joscur smiled warmly, saying, ¡°Word will be sent to me as to what the council¡¯s decision is regarding your stay in Mirage. You will know before I do and we will go from there.¡±


    William nodded, turning to look up at the tower. A small group of people were walking towards him to escort him up the tower.


    ¡°Soft winds to you, William,¡± Joscur said before turning and walking back down the steps towards the street.


    ¡°Soft winds,¡± William replied quietly and strode up to meet his guides, five in total. With them he did briefly quarrel as he had with Joscur about the state of his sword but they, like he, were quick to let the matter go after it was pointed out that the day before he had been taken to the council and allowed to keep it and once again he was informed that at some point soon it would need a sheath. Together they walked up and into the tower, and as they did so, William was given a crash course on manners.


    ¡°Natator tower is a library as well as a place of judicial process. As you know, the council resides at the top but all levels below it are accessible to the public. As such we ask that you keep your voice down while within the tower and observe proper protocol and procedure,¡± explained one of the young men as they made their way into the shade of the building. The lecture continued as they approached the elevating devices that William and Joscur had used to climb the tower the day before.


    ¡°You are being taken to see the council again this morning, and there is ritual that we observe. It is an honor to see the Seven and we ask that you treat it as such. Normally there are no weapons allowed within the council chambers, and when yours receives a covering, any future visits will require you to relinquish your weapon temporarily. This is non negotiable I¡¯m afraid. We have been informed of your¡­ attachment, and the Seven have decreed you will be allowed to keep it for this visit. When you come to the door, knock and wait to be received with your head bowed. Wait until you are given permission to enter before doing so, then bow before the Seven before the meeting begins.¡±


    The small group began to rise up and there was still more to be explained. William listened silently and looked around at the rows and shelves of books as they rose past them, at the doors and corridors leading into deeper parts of the tower.


    ¡°After your meeting we will be informed of what the council has judged for you and act accordingly. As we do not know what that is in the meantime we ask that you refrain from exploration of the tower and instead await your retinue to guide you to where it is you need to be. Mirage as a city functions because everyone within has something to do to help maintain the stability of the city as a whole. So long as you will be sheltered within, you will need to be assigned a duty of your own, and we will make sure that you are adequately informed and prepared for whatever it is the Seven decides. Do you have any questions?¡±


    ¡°The workers in the council chamber, the ones in the suits, who are they?¡± William asked, his head craned towards the approaching ceiling.


    ¡°They are animunculi technicians, in charge of the care, repair and interaction with the animunculi of Mirage both within and without. They are the city¡¯s eyes and ears, keeping vigil and reporting to the council as necessary with matters of concern¡­ such as yourself.¡±


    ¡°Do the council convene in the chamber every day?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± came a reply growing with concern. ¡°They each of them have other duties that they attend to around Mirage but meet as a council in matters of importance.¡±


    ¡°Like me,¡± William replied dryly. ¡°What exactly do these technicians keep an eye open for?¡±


    ¡°Threats to the safety and security of the city. There are other technicians who work at different parts within the tower as well as around Mirage, but we must remain watchful. Roaming reavers are a constant threat that needs to be monitored and reauslers would be disastrous if they managed to breach the city barrier! It is thanks to the animunculi that protect this city that we are able to live peaceful lives, so many of our citizenry dedicate theirs to helping them maintain this peace.¡±


    William didn¡¯t ask any more questions after that.


    As they approached the top of the tower the lift came to a halt and the small group exited the elevator with William in tow. They lead him to the council chamber¡¯s doors where one of the guides stepped forward and knocked on the door, took a step back, and joined the others in having their heads bowed. William did not bow his head. He stared at the words on the door and contemplated their meaning once more.


    The door opened mere seconds after the knocking and a technician stood looking out at them for a moment before taking a step to the side. As they stepped out of the way the sunburned stranger stepped forward and past the group as they were lifting up their heads. Seeing this brazen act of defiance caused a couple of them to gasp while others surged forward after him. He quickened his pace and stepped into the chamber where the Seven were already sat, turned towards each other and speaking in hushed tones that came to an abrupt end as William stepped forward and stood in the same spot he had the day before, sword in hand, while the guiding entourage came rushing in after him, offering apologies, bowing their heads, and speaking over one another. Worried for the safety of the council, one of them grabbed at William¡¯s wrist that held his sword which caused him to snap his face to look at them with a menacing glare!


    ¡°That will be quite enough of that!¡± boomed the Eldest, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.


    ¡°Forgive us, councilman Ode! We explained to him the procedure! We-¡±


    ¡°Leave us, please,¡± Ode requested quietly but firmly. The group of guides bowed their heads and backed out of the room. The technician who answered the door closed it behind them and stepped back to their console so that they can continue to work.


    ¡°Quite the entrance you¡¯ve made on your second day in our city,¡± Ode sternly spoke, looking William down his nose.


    ¡°I¡¯m not one to abide idle ritual that ultimately serves no purpose,¡± William responded, but even before the words had completely left his mouth a venomous voice spoke up.


    ¡°You see! If he cannot even obey simple instructions, how safe are we to be-¡± Mernavia started but was cut off by one of the councilman to her left.


    ¡°You will not start up on this again!¡± he said, making Mernavia whip her head around and grit her teeth at him in anger.


    ¡°And you will not antagonize her!¡± Ode raised his voice again, the old man slinking back into his tall seat and letting out a heavy sigh, raising a hand up to rub over his eyes. ¡°It is just a silly ritual of respect that our citizenry observe towards us. No need to make a fuss. We have more important matters to attend to, everyone let it go,¡± the wizened councilman ordered and the Seven fell silent and still. William mirrored their stillness and stared at each of them. The morning sun bathed the room in much more of an inviting light than it had the afternoon before and he was able to see each of them clearly. Ode looked tired in that way old men who did not get quite enough sleep did. Mernavia sat at attention, lips drawn into a tight line and eyebrows furrowed in intense speculation. Every one of them was wearing the same colored robes that they had the day before.


    The eldest councilman brought his hand down from his eyes and clapped his hands together. ¡°Let us try this again, and start by introducing ourselves, why not?¡± he suggested, looking from one side of seats to the other. ¡°Boma, start with yourself and we will move down the line.¡±


    From the furthest left of Ode, Boma scooted forward with his hands in his lap, the young boy from the day before. He sat up straight, looked William directly, and spoke clearly. ¡°Pleasant moons. My name is Boma, and I am the youngest council member, representing the children of Mirage.¡±


    To his left, sat with her arms crossed over her stomach, one leg crossed over the other in her vermilion robe, Mernavia glared down at William. ¡°You may address me as councilwoman Mernavia,¡± she said curtly, mistrust as plain to see on her features as it was to hear in her voice.


    To her left, dressed in his sky blue robe and white sash, the young man with his freckles raised his hand up and placed it on his chest. ¡°I am councilman Thrain. Allow me to extend my apologies on behalf of this council for the trouble this all must be fore you.¡±


    ¡°My name has been given as Ode already, but I¡¯m an old man; I love repeating myself!¡± Ode joked with a chuckle. ¡°I am Ode, eldest member of the council of Mirage, and shepherd of this city.¡±


    To the left of Ode, the violet clad woman with her hands folded over top of each other would smile and nod her head towards William. ¡°Councilwoman Kieran,¡± she introduced gently.


    Beside her, the only council member to have not spoken directly the day before, of an age between Ode and Thrain, sat a very serious looking man with short, ginger hair. His robes were green and well fitting, and he had three rings adorned with colorful stones on his left hand little, ring and middle fingers, while his right sported two on his thumb and middle finger. ¡°I am councilman Niamh,¡± he introduced himself, his voice deep and rumbling. ¡°A pleasure to be introduced to the man who fell from the sky.¡±


    ¡°And you may call me Eira if you like, no need for titles,¡± said the last council member, the oldest woman there who was perhaps second only to Ode in age. She smiled, and her face reminded William of the first woman he¡¯d met in this city who had offered to clothe and feed him. He wondered briefly how she was doing.


    ¡°There, now we are all introduced as Thrain suggested we had done the day before,¡± Ode spoke up, gesturing towards the young councilman. ¡°And now, if I may speak for the whole council and finish our introduction with a word on what we do here,¡± Ode continued, not waiting for the go ahead from any of the others before doing so. ¡°It is the council¡¯s job to oversee the affairs of this city. Together, we govern policy and law and determine what courses of action are best for the safety and continued prosperity of Mirage. Which is where we find you at, William; a question of what to do about the boy who fell from the sky¡­¡±


    William was silent, observing the workers around them. Their screens.


    ¡°We have introduced ourselves now, might we have the pleasure of receiving the same courtesy?¡± Eira asked warmly.


    ¡°William.¡±


    ¡°William,¡± Ode said, repeating the name slowly as if feeling its weight on his tongue. ¡°William, who fell from the sky, who was not in the Wastes but then suddenly was. How peculiar a young man you are¡­¡±


    William continued not to look at them. The monitors were showing views of the city, he thought. It was difficult to tell from how far away he was¡­


    ¡°William is not our only concern, nor the most immediate,¡± Mernavia spoke up, her tone more even and metered than it had been thus far. Her words drew the attention of the other council members. ¡°Let us ask him where he is from and send him on his way! He says he is not from the Wastes? Fine! Let him return back from whence he came so that we can focus on our own problems.¡±


    ¡°Mernavia makes a fair point,¡± Niamh spoke up, looking to his fellow council members on his left and his right. ¡°Our resources are difficult enough to come by without accepting strangers into our midst. Look at him; even without asking, it would be safe to assume that he is from the mainland. The civil war is calm for now, but it will not remain so forever. Any day now, one or both of the Princes will force the hand of the others, and what little we have will be diverted to the issue of succession inexorable.¡±


    William looked away from the monitors and back to the council. He said nothing.


    ¡°We¡¯ve received word that Second Prince Mordred is now Emperor Mordred. It is possible that this will be what forces Princes Ganymede and Bayamon into action. It is not so hard to imagine that our new Emperor will request that we increase our mining efforts-¡± Kieran was interrupted by Mernavia speaking up.


    ¡°All the more reason to send this boy away! Of what use could he be to Mirage with war on the horizon and the further taxation of our people an inevitability?¡±


    ¡°Where are you from, William?¡± Ode asked, keeping his keen green eyes upon the sun-burnt young man who now returned his gaze directly.


    ¡°The capital,¡± William responded.


    ¡°Is it not possible that William is some effort of one of the princes in their war? Some experiment with new machina that went awry?¡± Niamh asked, addressing the council but looking at William.


    ¡°I really couldn¡¯t say,¡± William responded.


    ¡°If he is from the capital,¡± Boma spoke up, looking around at the adults around him. ¡°Then¡­ it would be difficult to send him back home, would it not? With the Princes fighting¡­¡±


    ¡°With the Princes fighting over the throne and the newly named Emperor granting himself the title, we could be shipping him into a volatile mainland, possibly to his death,¡± Thrain finished, seeing where Boma was going with his line of thought. ¡°Mirage is in no position to accept refugees, nor are we in sending away any.¡±


    ¡°So, what do you suggest, Thrain?¡± Mernavia asked, looking up at the young man. ¡°That we give him a place to stay here, wait for this ridiculous civil war to pass and hope that whatever he calls home is still standing? It is not the responsibility of this city to take care of misfits lost in the Wastes! Especially those who will not divulge how they got there!¡±


    ¡°You are being harsh, Mernavia,¡± Eira spoke up. ¡°You saw the fall, same as the rest of us. Poor William may truly not remember how he came to be here.¡±


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Oh, is it ¡®poor William¡¯ now?¡± Mernavia asked sarcastically.


    ¡°Mernavia,¡± Niamh spoke up gently. ¡°Temper.¡±


    ¡°No, I am not losing my temper here!¡± she retorted like the crack of a whip, leaning forward in her chair and extending a hand towards William. ¡°We have before us a boy who fell from the sky, who claims to come from the continental mainland, specifically Damocles, who has not specified how this happened, who is openly carrying a sword even now, with war at our doorstep! He could be an operative for any of the three Princes, who knows what their schemes will mean for Mirage in the days to come? We cannot afford to not be cautious when we are faced with the seemingly impossible!¡±


    ¡°Mernavia,¡± Ode spoke up, dropping her name like a weight in water. The two looked at each other, with her brow furrowed as though expecting to be scolded some more but softening as he continued. ¡°I agree with you. We cannot be too cautious with this¡­ William. Aside from his fall we know nothing about him, the only thing he had on him was the sword he now carries. He claims to be from Damocles, but could be from anywhere and we¡¯d have no way of proving it one way or another.¡±


    As Ode spoke, the other council members seemed to relax, turning their gazes back on the sun-burnt young man before them or looking to the Eldest as he spoke.


    ¡°Thrain, too, makes a valid point,¡± he continued, pointing to the young man to his left. ¡°We are on an entirely different continent from the mainland, and we do not immediately know what is happening over there. For all we know, the countryside is on fire and we would be sending young William to cook!¡± He chuckled dryly at his dark joke. ¡°We¡¯ve established the issue of William enough, I think. I elect that this council now turns its attention to the man himself, and begins asking him questions. Eira, would you please begin?¡±


    The old woman looked at William and paused momentarily, considering what to ask him. ¡°Is there truly nothing you can remember about how you came to fall? Nothing you can tell us about the events preceding your unexpected arrival?¡±


    ¡°I was talking with my lover about what should be done with the coming conflict, and then I was falling. There¡¯s nothing else I can recall.¡±


    ¡°And what of that sword you carry so close to you? We were told that it was practically impossible to take it from your grip, even while unconscious?¡± Niamh asked as Eira sat back in her seat.


    ¡°It¡¯s a family heirloom, the oldest and most valuable thing that I own. It¡¯s importance to me cannot be stressed enough. I was discussing fighting with it before I fell.¡±


    ¡°Could you tell us the name of this lover of yours?¡± Thrain inquired. ¡°Perhaps we could send a message to Damocles, informing them of your arrival, and reunite you?¡±


    William hesitated. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Thrain asked. Mernavia scrutinized William¡¯s every bodily movement.


    ¡°¡­ His name is Cornello,¡± William admitted. Thrain turned and looked to one of the technicians. ¡°Can we please send a message to Damocles, asking abou-¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to reach them in Damocles,¡± William interrupted.


    ¡°And why is that?¡± Mernavia was quick to pounce.


    ¡°I just¡­ have a feeling you won¡¯t be able to,¡± William answered quietly.


    ¡°Send the message,¡± Thrain said, turning his freckled face back towards the black haired stranger, now more incredulous than he had been a moment before. One of the technicians got to work contacting Damocles.


    ¡°If we chose to send you away, what would you do?¡± Kieran asked directly.


    ¡°I would try to find Cornello, and protect them from this civil war,¡± he answered with more confidence.


    ¡°And if we chose, instead, to keep you here, for your own safety and ours?¡± Boma asked slowly.


    ¡°I would try to make myself useful to Mirage, and await any word from Damocles about Cornello,¡± he replied softly.


    Mernavia leaned forward in her seat, glowering at the uninvited guest in the council chamber. ¡°Suppose we were to disarm you for the duration of your stay in Mirage, that on condition to being allowed shelter in our city, you would have to relinquish your sword¡­?¡±


    ¡°I would fight you with everything I had to keep it.¡±


    Mernavia leaned back and turned to look at the other council members who looked to each other in kind. Kieran leaned over to whisper something to Ode and Niamh did so in kind to Eira. The vermilion clad councilwoman continued to stare down William with mistrust oozing from every pore. Thrain silently considered the young man before him. Boma sat quietly, listening, and thinking.


    After a few tense moments, Ode sat up straight and asked his question: ¡°How would you like to be a wellerman?¡±


    ¡°A wellerman?¡± William echoed, while Mernavia snapped her head to glare at Ode in disbelief!


    ¡°Just like the ones on the mainland, but slightly different. You wouldn¡¯t be just transporting goods from the mainland to us and vice versa. Wellermen of the Wastes also hunt sand whales for their meat, their blubber, and the precious minerals they accumulate on their hides. Minerals which we harvest, process, and use for trade and engineering. It is a duty heavy in manual labor and would see you coming and going quite often. I propose that this be the task to which William is assigned so long as he is within our care,¡± Ode explained, turning his head back and forth to address his fellow council members. ¡°While we await news of his lover in Damocles, he will work for Mirage. We will provide him lodgings for when he is not off in the Wastes, and as a wellerman, he¡¯d put that sword to use, most likely, and he would be outside of the city limits more often than not.¡± Here, Ode looked specifically at Mernavia who turned away from him and sat with pursed lips. She couldn¡¯t argue that this was an elegant solution.


    ¡°That is the conditions to which you will be allowed to stay within Mirage, until such time as your lover can be contacted¡­ oh, and you will need a sheath for your blade I am afraid. We do not allow uncovered weaponry in the streets by law. All in favor?¡± Ode asked, raising his hand up. Mernavia was quick to follow suit, and the remaining five council members did the same. ¡°The council is in favor. William, do you find these terms to be acceptable?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± William said flatly.


    ¡°Then let it be so!¡± Ode spoke something in Mirage-Tongue that the other council members repeated in unison and the high column chairs began to lower down so that each member could stand. ¡°This morning¡¯s council meeting is adjourned, then. William, you will be escorted from Natator Tower to a smithy that can make a sheath for your blade, then you will be returned to Joscur¡¯s home for the day. Tomorrow, you will start your work as a wellerman and we will have found a suitable place for you to stay within Mirage while you are here, and while you wait for correspondence from your Cornello.¡±


    By this point, many of the other council members were walking past William and headed for the door. They had duties they needed to attend to elsewhere, and though they spoke quietly among themselves, each of them gave at least one look to the young man that they¡¯d just agreed to become a part of Mirage, if only temporarily. Boma lagged behind with Ode who was the slowest in moving forward and leaving. The door to the council chamber opened and the same people who had escorted him here were making their way towards William after being given the verdict. As Ode came close to the sword bearing young man, he spoke up.


    ¡°You are quite mysterious. Know that we will be investigating how it is you came to fall from the sky as well. In turbulent times such as these, we cannot afford not to.¡±


    ¡°Why are you monitoring the activity of Mirage with machina?¡± William asked, his gray eyes fixated on the old man, who paused with Boma at his side and stared back at William with an analytical gaze before continuing on.


    ¡°For the good of us all,¡± was the only answer that Ode gave.


    ***


    William was taken from Natator Tower just as his escorts had been instructed. They lead him to one of the mid levels of the tower so that they could rent a natator, a larger model that could carry all of them. William quietly observed the process of ¡°renting¡± these floating machina which boiled down to an agreement signed both on a piece of parchment, which had dates, times, and rental periods along with who had agreed to this contract, and an input in a terminal that was similar to the ones the technicians used at the top of the tower. They were airborne shortly thereafter and occupied one of the middle lanes of traffic through the air. From up high, William was able to get a much more expansive view of the city as well as the barrier which surrounded them.


    The same barrier which had been opened by those hulking automatons, he would find out through questioning were animunculi, was practically invisible when closed and you were close to it on the inside, but from further away if you paid attention you could see it as a blurry blue shimmer that surrounded the entirety of Mirage like a dome. It was explained to him how the barrier helped to deflect the desert heat away from the city and made life bearable in the Wastes. He recalled out it had been completely invisible from outside of the city limits, how he had only seen further dunes of sand. He wondered why such a visual barrier was necessary in the first place and thought of the reausler creatures that he¡¯d encountered in the Wastes. They had spoken to him and so were intelligent, at least enough to speak. Were they intelligent enough that they needed to be hidden from?


    As they flew over rainbow colored roads, his escorts would occasionally point things out to him as they passed it by. Mostly it was broad, general statements about the layout of Mirage itself, how Natator Tower served as the city center with residential buildings clustering up around it, while further out were businesses. The circular city was thus ringed by communal commerce and, as he had seen the day before, cultural exchanges for anyone coming and going to and from Mirage. It was remarked that since the Wastes were so harsh and treacherous, the people of Mirage put on a good face and tried to be warm and welcoming to all who were allowed to seek haven there.


    ¡°Ah, look there! You can see the wellermen docks where you will be working,¡± one of the guides said, lifting their arm up and pointing to the west. William turned and could see through the gaps in buildings as they flew by what looked like large wooden ships. It was hard to make anything else out from this distance.


    As they arrived at their destination the natator lowered itself down to the ground and came to rest outside of a smithy, the open air furnace surrounded by a small crew of workers who were all in tandem working on a project together. Two of them were hauling materials over to the fire. One was hammering away at a hot piece of metal and sending sparks flying while another flipped the piece of metal every other swing. Yet another was sat at a bench chiseling away details into a piece of metal. It was to this individual that the guide stepped forward, speaking in Mirage-Tongue and explaining the situation. When all was in order, William was called over and the craftsman looked down at the blade in his hand.


    The man held his gloved hand out to William. ¡°May I?¡± he asked. Tight lipped, William hesitated in handing the sword over, but did so if reluctantly. The smith held the sword up and inspected it visually, giving it a couple of test swings downwards, finding where the balance was in the sword. ¡°Peculiar feature, this arc,¡± he commented, running his finger over the deep curve near the base of the blade. ¡°I would have called it a mistake if it was not so clearly intentional¡­ to make a proper sheath for this should take me a day.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± William said sternly.


    ¡°Please! Do not be rude!¡± the guide said, looking flustered at William¡¯s response. The smith looked at him as though studying him. ¡°You do not care about the quality of the sheath?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± William responded, softer.


    The smith wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm and turned around, pushing what he had been working on aside and setting the sword down on the table in front of him. ¡°Then, I will need an hour to make a simple leather covering for it. I can be no quicker I am afraid.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll wait an hour,¡± William agreed, stepping over to the end of the table and looking down at the sword. The smith nodded, turned, and called for some leather in Mirage-Tongue. True to his word, and with some assistance from the occasional other worker who could put down what they were doing to fetch him something, the sheath was made in roughly an hour ¨C merely a crude leather sleeve which was fitted to the dimensions of the blade, with some excess for both wiggle room and additional material to sew the leather together with a bland colored thread, all done by hand ¨C and was given to William with his sword, who was stood watching the construction of the sheath the entire time. It looked, and was, crude, but it would suffice for now.


    ¡°I recommend getting that replaced as soon as you have some gems to spend. It will not hold for more than six months if you actively carry it, less if you are careless,¡± advised the smithy.


    ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ll pay you another visit soon, then. Pleasant moons to you,¡± William said after taking a hold of his blade once more.


    ¡°Pleasant moons,¡± the smithy replied, smiling cheerfully before pulling what he¡¯d been working on the hour before back over towards him and beginning to work again. Now that his sword was covered, the guides who were now tasked with escorting William to Joscur¡¯s abode seemed far more relaxed than they had the entire day so far.


    Navigating with the natators, William discovered, was somewhat intuitive. There were no wheels or control panels on which to operate these flying metallic boats with green obs underneath which kept them aloft. Instead, movement was physically up to the operators, who, he observed from not just his navigators but also those people around them up in the air, would lean to shift their body weight in order to gently coax the machina one direction or another. If there were multiple people on board, they would help by shifting their body weight as well. He also observed that people used hand signals in order to let others know if they were moving left, right, up, or down by extending or bending their arms in which direction they were headed in. Larger natators, like the ones they were on, were slower and took turns sluggishly, while smaller, personal natators were much faster and generally flew above them on the highest levels of traverse where people went the fastest. He wasn¡¯t entirely certain how acceleration and deceleration happened, but he believed it had something to do with shifting your weight forward to speed up and standing upon the natator to slow it down.


    These observations were all made as they made their way to Joscur¡¯s home where, upon arrival, they all stood up, with William standing last, three of the five escorts signaling that they were descending down to street level and bringing the machina to a hovering stop just over a single step off of the ground. ¡°Please remain inside until Joscur returns from his duties. We would hate for you to get lost!¡± one of the guides said with a pleasant smile that was mirrored by the others. William said nothing as he disembarked off of the floating machina.


    ¡°Soft winds to you, William!¡± the same guide said before taking a seat with the others and rising back up into the air, signaling to traffic that they were rising. William watched them go before turning and walking towards the door. Stepping inside, he was greeting with the faint smells of the breakfast that they had shared and the sound of delighted squealing coming from Vamenco, who was running around the communal area where they had eaten only a few hours before with a young man who was dressed in a bright green, loose fitting pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt. He stopped running and stood up straight when William entered, concern filling his face.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± the young man asked, and by then Vamenco had noticed he wasn¡¯t being chase anymore and stopped, looking back and seeing William.


    ¡°William!¡± he cried out excitedly, running over to the house guest and grabbing onto his hand to pull him inside, even as the young man who was watching the child initially took a step forward and reached out to stop him. ¡°This is William, my baba found him in the Wastes and brought him here to live with us!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not living with you, I¡¯m only staying here temporarily,¡± William corrected, smiling despite himself as he was pulled towards the pit of pillows by Vamenco, who stopped and looked up at him like he¡¯d said something hurtful.


    ¡°You are not staying?¡± he asked, confused.


    ¡°No, I can¡¯t. The council said that I¡¯ll be staying somewhere else come tomorrow.¡±


    Vamenco let go of William¡¯s hand, looking very dejected as he looked up at him. ¡°Are you still going to visit us?¡±


    ¡°Sure, I can do that,¡± William said, his promise earning him a smile from the young boy who cheered and got back to running around. The young man, who looked to be about Marisia¡¯s age and had short, cleanly cut hair, introduced himself; ¡°I am Bolara. Pleasant moons to you, Vamenco was telling me about you earlier.¡±


    ¡°About how you were lost in the desert and my baba came to save you!¡± the young boy clarified excitedly, rushing over and jumping onto a set of pillows, landing on his knees and looking up at the guest of his father¡¯s house. ¡°William, can you tell me more about what you were doing out in the Wastes? I want to know because it seems very scary outside of Mirage!¡±


    ¡°If it is not too much trouble,¡± Bolara said, recognizing Vamenco¡¯s lack of tact and offering an out on his behalf.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all about it in a little bit, little one. I think I want to take a short walk before then,¡± William said, turning to Bolara. ¡°Could you prepare me something to drink for when I get back? I won¡¯t be gone long.¡±


    ¡°Ah! Perhaps we could come with you so that you do not get lost? Vamenco told me how you have only been in the city a day,¡± the young caretaker said, stepping after William as he turned to head back for the door. Vamenco, of course, was excited by the prospect, but the dark haired stranger turned and shook his head at the two of them. ¡°That¡¯s alright, I won¡¯t go far. I just want to get familiar with the surroundings so that I can find this house when I¡¯m in my own place. Bolara, the drink, please?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. We will see you soon,¡± Bolara said, speaking over Vamenco¡¯s groans as he got up from his pillows and tried to rush forward after William as he stepped back outside, voicing his protest but being stopped by his caretaker who spoke to him in Mirage-Tongue while William began to walk down the street, heading for the poster that he¡¯d seen the night before. It was affixed to the building beside Joscur¡¯s home and, stepping into the alleyway, he examined the poster closer and identified the figure on it as being one of the machnia technicians in Natator Tower. He found himself wondering why they would be featured on a poster, and if he were to look around, would he find others like this one?


    A sensation washed over William¡¯s body like cold water being dosed over him. He stood up straight and felt a ringing in his ears, making him realize that the world had suddenly gone silent! He whipped his head around and stepped back out of the alley and saw the truth of the silence ¨C it was no silence at all, but instead a great muffling of the world around him!


    All around William, people were slowed down to less than a snail¡¯s pace. He would have thought that there was no movement at all if he did not stare intently to be sure. No matter where he looked, down the left and right of the glass street, high above him where the natators flew, all had come to a near standstill! Across the street, a man sat playing an instrument that had two sets of free-floating strings attached to a large, hollow, drum base and a long wooden neck that had several animal skin braids that held the strings in place. William watched as the man¡¯s finger plucked a string and the sound did travel, but it was so distorted and reverberated that it sounded nothing like the high tones he had been hearing earlier, instead sounding more like some threatening, guttural growl.


    Two taps against colored glass ¨C so startling like cracks of thunder ¨C drew William¡¯s attention back in the alley where his eyes befell a man dressed all in white, in a style that did not belong in this place. His dark brown skin created a contrast between the perfectly pristine white tuxedo he wore over a paper white vest and milk colored tie. He was tall, almost two feet taller than William was, and his snow white wingtip shoes strutted out on either side of the black cane he held in his hand. There was a gentle smile on his face that was matched only by the ferocity of William¡¯s frown.


    ¡°Pardon my interruption of your walk, but it was time that we spoke I¡¯m afraid,¡± the Dandy Man said.


    William responded by withdrawing his sword from its newly made sheath and throwing the leather away behind him, brandishing his blade with both hands! ¡°Where is Mr. Wink!?¡± William demanded to know, snarling.


    ¡°Far, and already here, you know that,¡± said the Dandy Man, tapping his cane on the glass again and tossing it up in the air before catching it and walking towards William slowly, calmly, despite the sword trained on him.


    ¡°I mean his eidolon! Where is he!?¡± William demanded, taking a step forward and planting his foot down, hunching over and preparing to launch himself at the man responsible for slowing down time around them.


    The Dandy Man stopped and tucked his cane up under his arm, merely a step away from the tip of William¡¯s sword. ¡°Not here, but you know that already. He has very important work to attend to, as do you. This conversation is not about Mr. Wink.¡±


    ¡°Take me back! I¡¯m not supposed to be here!¡± William snarled, keeping his sword trained on the Dandy Man as he walked out of the shadow of the alley and into the sun, the bright light glistening off of his bald head.


    ¡°I can¡¯t! Even a host as resplendent as I has my limits, you know! You would need Mr. Wink¡¯s services for that, and as we¡¯ve already established, he is not here! I¡¯m afraid you¡¯re stuck with little ol¡¯ dandy me!¡± The laughter was at once mocking and good humored, meaning no offense but delivering plenty.


    ¡°I was in the middle of something important! Something that could have turned this whole thing around if I¡¯d been left alone!¡± William roared!


    ¡°Mr. Wink looked ahead and determined that it would not, and so chose to follow his own agenda instead. Is that really so surprising?¡± the Dandy Man asked, looking over at William as he pulled out a pocket watch from within his jacket. He spared two seconds exactly to see that the watch didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°He is NOT determination! I am!¡± William rushed forward, three steps towards the Dandy Man while rotating his wrists to the left, leveling his blade and slashing upwards at him!


    The Dandy Man stood and watched this all happen, and then was gone in a blur of movement! The whole world moved in that same split second, aside from William, who remained on his course at his own pace. The people around him, on the street, on natators, had moved several feet in that instant but were back to crawling forward at a glacial pace.


    ¡°Honestly, that is no way in which to treat a host whose purpose is to deliver you a message! Really, consider your manners, won¡¯t you?¡± the Dandy Man spoke from behind William, who turned heel on the spot and faced the tall man in white who now twirled the thin black cane in circles to his right. ¡°We can continue to attempt to play tag for a while if you like, there is time allocated for it, but as you know, I am a busy man and have many a place to be. If I could be spared the several seconds of tedium, I would be much appreciative to you, host to guest.¡±


    William grit his teeth and lowered his sword. He didn¡¯t like the Dandy Man for a number of reasons, not the least of which being he was partially responsible for William being here in Mirage in the first place.


    ¡°Atta boy! Might I suggest that you go and retrieve your sheath from off the street there? I wouldn¡¯t want you to lose it,¡± the tall man suggested, gesturing towards the discarded leather covering that was lying in the middle of the road. Wordlessly, William turned around and walked over to get it.


    ¡°When the hell did Mr. Wink send me?¡± William asked as he put his blade back into its covering.


    ¡°From your perspective, relative to when you were before your departure, you have been displaced by a little over three thousand years, by my best guess anyway.¡±


    William snapped his head around and glowered at Mr. Wink¡¯s messenger. ¡°Three thousand years!?¡±


    ¡°Give or take a few centuries. I¡¯m not actually certain of the exact date you see, that is more Mr. Wink¡¯s domain of expertise. Never the less, I -¡±


    ¡°Where is Cornello? Was he sent here as well!?¡±


    ¡°That, I am afraid, I cannot inform you of for certain. Mr. Wink, as you know, sent your Mr. Cornello adrift before you, and so they could be anywhere! My deepest apologies, but I¡¯m afraid that that is all I know of your compatriot.¡±


    William roared in frustration and turned his back on the Dandy Man, gripping the blade of his sword through the protective leather covering tightly. He wanted to use it so desperately, but he knew that it wouldn¡¯t get him anywhere. Not while he was employed by Mr. Wink¡­


    ¡°Why? Why did Mr. Wink have to get involved with me now?¡± William demanded to know, turning back around and glaring at the dark eyes of the messenger. ¡°He¡¯s always done his own thing separate from the rest of us! Why did he pick now to stick his nose into my business!?¡±


    ¡°That, I¡¯m afraid, I also cannot inform you of. I am merely a messenger and a host, and am not privy to all of Mr. Wink¡¯s machinations. Even if I was, it would be quite impossible for me to understand them. Ultimately, his reasons are his own. However, as I said, he did seem to believe that you were on a course which would result in yet another instance of Cathedral Terra, and so set you on another. One which he, presumably, believes will not,¡± the tall messenger explained. ¡°Hence my fortuitous and punctual arrival. I am here to set you on a path which will -¡±


    ¡°And why should I give a damn!? What¡¯s stopping me from running off into the desert and dying so I can get a new eidolon and try to fix whatever mess he¡¯s dragged me into!?¡± William snarled.


    ¡°Nothing. Nothing at all. Choice is yours, Twilight, to command as you see fit, even for yourself. However, I must say that I would not recommend it. I have a feeling that, if you did, you would force Mr. Wink¡¯s hand to send you back to this moment in whatever new body you emerged with, effectively delaying what he has deemed to be inevitable; something which you could do indefinitely, for sure, but, we are all of us on limited time, and, I believe you¡¯ll agree, said time is better spent on things less trivial than petty delays.¡±


    ¡°I fucking hate how smug you are,¡± William growled. The Dandy Man simply grinned cheerfully. ¡°What am I even doing here? If Mr. Wink saw I was destined to fail, what makes him think that being here and now will help me succeed?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes, the crux of the matter,¡± the messenger said, whipping his cane around and bringing the tip of it against the poster that William had been examining before with a deafening crack. ¡°You were just pondering this poster, yes?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s new,¡± William said bluntly, walking over to get another look at the poster while the Dandy Man tapped on it with his cane.


    ¡°Very astute. Yes, it is new, as is much about this era.¡±


    ¡°The civil war,¡± William stated.


    ¡°Inconsequential to you, for the moment, at least. It¡¯s yet to be determined if it will have a larger role to play or not, as far as I can tell,¡± the tall dark man said, dragging his cane down over the poster and tapping it on the glass. ¡°There are things here in Mirage which Mr. Wink feels would be of interest to you, and he has asked me to tell you as such. Without your presence these past three millennia, roughly speaking, things have been allowed to progress organically, until such a time the Eidolon of Twilight¡¯s touch was deemed necessary, and it has much to do with these technicians.¡±


    ¡°Get to the point,¡± William demanded as another bass-like strum of the stringed instrument made its disturbing, distorted call.


    ¡°Gladly,¡± the messenger said, looking at his pocket watch again and stuffing it back into his jacket. ¡°Mirage is holding many secrets under the guise of good will for all ningen and bloodlings, what few of them there are, who dwell here. Secrets which, I suspect, have much larger ramifications for the fate of this world than just some silly brother¡¯s squabble over who wears a crown and why. You are hereby tasked with discovering said secrets and seeing if they lead you anywhere in particular.¡±


    ¡°If I do this, will Mr. Wink return me and Cornello back to where we were?¡± William asked, keeping his eyes fixated on the posted because he could no longer stand to look at the Dandy Man.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say, as I was not made privy to any such details. It¡¯s not as if Mr. Cornello is being held hostage. I am sure that they are safe and sound.¡±


    William gave no answer. He didn¡¯t believe for a second that Cornello wasn¡¯t being held hostage.


    ¡°Until next time then. I must be off! Appointments to keep, I must always be punctual you know!¡± The Dandy Man turned and walked back into the darkness of the alley, tapping the glass ground beneath him twice with his cane and for a brief moment speeding the world up as he vanished and then the world was returned to normal. The sweet, harmonious sounds of the instrument being played filled the air along with the voices of people, the whooshing of passing natators. Life allowed to exist without intervention once again.


    William closed his eyes and pressed his head against the poster somehow suggesting that it, or the technicians, or perhaps something else entirely, were for the ¡®good of us all¡¯ and the thought of it turned his stomach in knots with anger! He raised his fist up and pounded his knuckles against the sandstone in frustration! What was Mr. Wink¡¯s game!? Where was Cornello!? As he pulled his head back away from the poster and looked at the soulless, painted eyes of the machina technician, he asked an entirely different question:


    What was wrong with this city that it required an eidolon¡¯s intervention?

 Chapter 7

    William stepped back inside of Joscur¡¯s house and was immediately met with excitement from Vamenco, who was still being wrangled by Bolara, and confusion from the latter. The little boy rushed back over to William and was excited to see him back so soon, to potentially play or hear stories!


    ¡°That was a short walk¡­ you cannot have gone anywhere,¡± Bolara observed how William had only been gone for perhaps a minute or two at the most.


    ¡°Yeah, I know, I just¡­ decided that I¡¯d better wait until Joscur gets back before wandering around,¡± William lied. His right knuckles were bright red where the rest of his skin was pink. He made sure that Vamenco didn¡¯t touch that hand.


    ¡°I see¡­ that was wise of you. I will get that drink for you now,¡± Bolara said, walking over to the kitchen area and to the yakhch¨¡l on the west wall, opening up the personally conical shaped refrigerator that nearly every home in Mirage had. Inside was a large block of ice which was kept insulated from the heat of the outside and never melted because of this, allowing for the placement of shelves around the ice which held things, such as the fresh water terracotta jug which Bolara removed to pour William a drink.


    All the while, Vamenco excited bounced on the balls of his feet in front of the black haired stranger, eager to remove that title from him as quickly as possible! ¡°Are you going to tell me stories about the Wastes now?¡± the young boy asked, grinning a toothy grin.


    ¡°Hm? Oh, yes, of course,¡± William said, losing himself in thought for a second before walking, with Vamenco eagerly leading the way, to the sitting area. Taking a seat on the pillows, he sat his sheathed blade down beside him and got comfortable, not noticing the day before how cool the floor was in this pit compared to the floor only two steps above it. Being deeper in the ground meant that it was cooler than its surroundings it would seem. The ginger haired boy sat right beside him and looked up at his sunburned face expectantly.


    ¡°Right¡­ what would you like to know?¡± William asked softly.


    ***


    Marisia sat in the shade of the stall she worked at with Kara by her side. Today they were helping to sell imported fruit from passers by. A young boy stood in front of the stall calling out to others, encouraging them to try the exotic sweets from the mainland! He was around Marisia¡¯s age she was pretty sure, perhaps a little younger, but he was loud! He knew full well had to project his voice so that it cut through the throngs of people. Somewhere down the way she could just make out the pleasant notes of a kora someone was playing.


    Marisia was lost in thought, contemplating the new comer into her home and thinking about what she¡¯d learned about him the night before. Not so much, really, but enough to hold her interest. It wasn¡¯t often at all that people were found alive in the Wastes so close to Mirage. She could seldom recall the occasions on one hand in which her father, or someone else in the city guard, had been tasked with retrieving a body from the harsh sands that surrounded their little oasis, let alone someone that was alive who wasn¡¯t a reaver that needed to be driven away! And the way which her father was reluctant to let her ask questions about him; why was that? What was he trying to keep her from knowing? Did he know something she didn¡¯t about William? The more she thought her way around in circles on the matter, the less she heard the world around her, the more Kara had to speak up to get her attention!


    ¡°Hm? Sorry?¡± Marisia asked in her native Mirage-Tongue.


    ¡°Pay attention, Marisia, and take the man¡¯s money!¡± Kara said, prompting the blind girl to sheepishly hold out her hands into the sunlight where gems were deposited onto her palms. She used her thumbs to spread them out and count the number of them.


    ¡°How much?¡± she asked Kara, pulling her hands back and showing her the flat-carved stones in her hands.


    ¡°More than enough, hold on one moment while I get his change,¡± Kara said, scooping the gems from Marisia¡¯s hands and leaving her to hold them up for a few moments while she stacked the appropriate gems in the abacus beside her and pulled out the change. She passed back the man¡¯s money once it was placed in her palms and he took it from her. ¡°Soft winds to you,¡± he said, his voice low and husky.


    ¡°Soft winds!¡± Kara and Marisia said simultaneously, Kara more enthusiastically than her friend who folded her hands in her lap and let out a near silent sigh through her nose. Marisia listened to her friend scooting a bit closer to her and felt her leaning closer as she said, ¡°You know I think he liked you! He was cute!¡±


    ¡°He sounded like all the rest to me,¡± Marisia said dismissively, her friend scoffing and giving her a playful shove on the shoulder. ¡°What? He could be an old man for all I know! I can only go by the sound of their voice, Kara!¡± she tried to explain through a smile.


    ¡°Well he was not an old man, he was very handsome, and wealthy, by the looks of it,¡± Kara remarked, listing off the only observations she had about the customer and running off with wild fantasies that Marisia simply couldn¡¯t indulge in. What was ¡®handsome¡¯ to a blind girl was very different from her friend, though she knew she meant no harm. It became very apparent that the talk of the customer was just a way for her to break the ice anyways.


    ¡°What is the matter with you today, hm? You have been so spaced out! Far off in the sky with the whales somewhere!¡± Kara exclaimed.


    ¡°I am bored, Kara! You know that work is boring to me when all I do is sit here and pass goods from you to the customer and vice versa!¡± Marisia said, moving her hands back and forth to illustrate her point. ¡°There is too much noise here and I can barely make out anything past the stall! This is barely even work!¡±


    ¡°How many times must I tell you that you are lucky to be able to work at all?¡± Kara said, realizing that she¡¯d stepped on this landmine again and was already exhausted of it. ¡°I understand that you wish to do more, but being blind, there is not much which you can effectively do! The best you can hope for is to be an attractive face here in the markets to bring customers in.¡±


    Marisia turned her face to Kara with pouting lips. ¡°That is very inspiring, Kara, I am so grateful to have you as a friend!¡± she said, shoving her hard and earning a laugh from Kara.


    ¡°You know what I mean! Look, I know that you are capable of doing more and that this is not the right environment for you, but what is, hm? Do you want to be affixed to a loom all day making clothing while someone watches you and makes sure that you are not accidentally using the wrong color of thread?¡±


    ¡°No, I just¡­ want to be doing more! I am not needed here, you could just as easily hand over the fruit and take the gems!¡± Marisia pointed out. She could practically hear Kara¡¯s eyes rolling in her head.


    ¡°Yes, I could, but then we would not be able to be with each other nearly as much. You have the best, easiest job in all of Mirage! You should appreciate it more,¡± Kara said, thinking about how often the stall they worked changed. She and Marisia regularly worked different stalls with different people, assisting them in sales. Ostensibly, they had the same occupation, but both of them recognized that it was more in line of Kara watching after Marisia and making sure that she didn¡¯t mess something up on accident because of her disability. The council did their best to make sure that even the disabled like Marisia were given a duty within the city so as to be useful to their community, but it was difficult, all the same, for her to not feel demeaned.


    ¡°I do not think that work is what has made you so quiet today, though,¡± Kara continued. The young boy who was helping them was currently hailing someone else and giving his best sales pitch about the fruit and Kara was watching to make sure that they didn¡¯t have to temporarily drop their conversation in favor of attending to a customer.


    ¡°Do you not?¡± Marisia inquired, a bit worried about where she was going with this.


    ¡°No! I think that you are pondering the guest in your home!¡±


    Of course that was exactly where Kara was going. Marisia pursed her lips and turned away from her friend, mentally chastising herself for not hiding her emotions better. Kara could somehow always read her so easily at it was annoying at times, such as this one right now!


    ¡°Aha! I knew it! Tell me more about him,¡± Kara insisted. The potential customer was walking along, evidently not interested in a treat.


    ¡°I do not know what else to tell you! He was quiet and polite and he had never had manoushe before or toum, and Vamenco seemed to like him, and baba did not want me questioning him! I have told you all of this already!¡±


    ¡°Yes, but what does he sound like?¡± Kara asked, leaning over and resting her head on Marisia¡¯s shoulder, who scoffed and leaned her head against hers.


    ¡°I do not know. Quiet. He uses words I am not familiar with, probably because he is from the mainland. He sounded¡­¡± It was difficult for Marisia to properly articulate how people sounded to her. Hearing was her primary sense and so she had spent her entire life attuning herself to her ears in relation to the world around her. If she listened to someone enough, she could get a decent idea of what type of person they were based on what they said, how they said it, the weight and cadence of their voice. She knew what playful sounded like, she knew what serious sounded like. Sad, angry, stern, embarrassed, loving ¨C all of this and far, far more she knew the sound of in people¡¯s voices, yet for some reason she couldn¡¯t place anything in William¡¯s. It was as if he were purposefully hiding how he really sounded around her, putting on some bland, quiet disguise that changed his vocal patterns. She could tell that he wasn¡¯t entirely being himself, and she assumed that was because of his ordeal and the new place he found himself in and the new people he was in the company of, but she still didn¡¯t have an idea of who he was.


    Which is why she smiled against the top of Kara¡¯s head and finished her sentence after a momentary pause, ¡°Handsome!¡± The two of them broke out in laughter that saw them jostling each other on the spot. Neither one of them liked to keep tension up for long between them of any sort. Their friendship was light and airy.


    ¡°You know what?¡± Kara began, lifting her head up from under her friend¡¯s. ¡°It is about time we took a break. Why don¡¯t we head to your place, have some lunch, and come back with full bellies and really try to sell this fruit, hm?¡±


    ¡°Yes, this sounds good,¡± she agreed, the two of them rising up and interlinking their arms together so that Kara could lead Marisia along. They informed the boy that they would be back within the hour and that the stall was his and then were off, walking down the rainbow roads amid smaller crowds who did the same, veering off from the market and making their way to where Marisia lived. As they walked they spoke to pass the time, not really talking about anything in particular but at once everything; a joke about the weather which was almost always the same, griping about how much they were earning working stalls and how they should open their own, discussions on what they would sell, a joke about Scarlet Boulevard that ended in uproarious laughter between the two girls! A ridiculous notion, they were both in agreement! Together they were two young women right on the doorstep of the rest of their lives and before either of them knew it, they were opening the door to Marisia¡¯s abode.


    Kara had been in the middle of saying something when she stopped in the middle of her sentence, halting her steps as well which gave Marisia paused. She had been listening to her friend but she now heard the sound of William speaking, Bolara¡¯s voice as he spoke up, ¡°Oh, you are back. Pleasant moons!¡± He spoke Imperial.


    ¡°Pleasant moons,¡± Kara said. William had stopped talking and Vamenco cried out joyously for his sister, climbing over pillows and steps to run up to her! She let go of Kara¡¯s arm to kneel down and hug her brother as he came rushing at her with gusto! ¡°This¡­ is your guest?¡± she asked. ¡°William?¡±


    ¡°Hello,¡± William greeted.


    Kara knelt down next to Marisia, held her hand up, and whispered in her ear, ¡°He is handsome! How could you know that?¡± in Mirage-Tongue.


    Marisia shushed her harshly and stood up, sending Vamenco back over to William¡¯s side. Kara stifled a giggle, cleared her throat, and spoke. ¡°Bolara, will you help me in the kitchen? We had come just to have lunch and are due back in the market.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± the young man said, following Kara back to the kitchen, leaving the siblings and their guest alone for the time being.


    ¡°Tell me again about the reauslers!¡± Vamenco said, practically throwing himself down on the pillows next to William. He sounded excited, not scared, which was unusual for her brother.


    ¡°I thought you were terrified on reauslers?¡± she asked, walking over and stepping down into the sitting pit to join the two of them. ¡°They eat naughty boys who go wandering off where they should not be!¡± she fibbed, reaching over and tickling her brother once she felt him, making him chortle in the cool living area.


    ¡°They did not eat William!¡± he countered through the laughter. ¡°He faced them off with his sword and scared them away with the help of baba! He spoke to them and they talked back!¡±


    ¡°Did they now?¡± Marisia asked, lifting her head up and turning her ear to where she knew William to be. She¡¯d been told they were smart, but she somehow found it difficult to believe that they could speak¡­


    ¡°They did,¡± William confirmed in the tone of a feather. ¡°The green ones, anyway. The blue ones acted more bestial. Just hisses and barks from them.¡±


    ¡°William was telling me all about how he survived out there! How he was almost buried in sand twice and how he fell from the sky!¡± Vamenco said to his sister excitedly, sitting up and placing his hands on her shoulder and giving her a shake, trying to transplant his excitement into her through physical touch. She smiled and placed a hand on top of his. She was pretty confident that William had just been making things up, then, if he told her brother about talking reasulers and falling from the sky. Not that she minded, of course. Fictions were healthy for a young boy¡¯s imagination.


    ¡°It sounds very exciting!¡± she encouraged with a smile. ¡°I should like to hear all about it while Kara and I have lunch, if you do not mind retelling it, William¡­?¡± She turned her head to face him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind,¡± he assured her, beginning to retell his story to a new audience.


    ***


    The duties of a city guard are often monotonous and dull, that¡¯s what he¡¯d said to William before leaving that morning. It hadn¡¯t been a lie, necessarily, more of a false opinion; Joscur was hardly ever bored at his job. Why would he be? What could be more exciting than to make certain that the streets of Mirage were safe from dangers inside and out? He wore the leathers of the city guard with a sense of pride. While everyone else had the privilege of wearing loose fitting, flowing, colorful clothes, he, and his fellow guards, shared the formfitting brown leathers that made them stand apart from everyone else, head to toe! In a desert such as this, it took discipline to wear such stifling clothing day in and day out; he was proud of his discipline.


    Of course, beneath the protective curtain that surrounded the city, it was never really as hot as it should have been, even less so in shade, and he planned his route around when and where the shade would be unless he was specifically needed somewhere it wasn¡¯t. City guards did not have a set area to patrol, but rather, were omnipresent throughout Mirage. Spread out thin, but never far apart from each other, Joscur almost treated it as a game to spot his fellow guards and give them a nod of acknowledgment. There were roughly five hundred men and women dressed in leathers like his all around the city, each one of them wandering, seemingly aimlessly, but vigilant.


    Mirage¡¯s multicolored streets had no names officially, no signs which to point you in any given direction. The city was constructed like a wheel with Natator Tower the center hub and the roads splitting off and converging to the tower the spokes, eight major roads in total, with several smaller roads connecting each of them together like spider webs. Much like the streets, each wedge of the city had no official names but the citizens referred to them by their direction and a number, either one or two, when communicating about what happened, was happening, or where to meet up. This naming convention was common knowledge and widely used. Joscur and his family lived in South Two.


    After leaving William at Natator Tower, Joscur had gone about his duties as normal while trying not to dwell too much on the enigma that was William or the possibilities of the council¡¯s decision. He¡¯d already spent much of the previous day and night considering all of that already ¨C a young man who fell from the sky and deposited in the Wastes. The council might throw him back out to die, or give him over to the reavers, those marauders who regularly poached and stole from wellermen whenever they could, who had historically refused to integrate with Mirage in favor of their wild ways. He couldn¡¯t imagine that, if that was to be William¡¯s fate, that he¡¯d survive for very long in their care. He understood the reaver way of life to be a harsh one, fighting for scraps in the desert and plundering what they could of imperial goods. As far as he was concerned, it was no way to live at all.


    Passing through the shade of tall buildings, still fairly early in the morning, most people weren¡¯t out and about just yet this close to the tower. Mirage woke up from the outside in, with those working the markets which encircled the entire city getting up the earliest to set up their stalls or open their shops, tending to their duties that made the local economy circulate. Those who lived here, near the center of the city, were still getting up and would report to where they needed to be to work in the markets, as city construction and repair, machina mechanics, city guard like himself, wellermen, blacksmiths and more. Each and every day, people moved from the center of the city in all directions, inevitably headed for the edge like a tide pool, only to recede back to their homes come evening. This wave was predictable and peaceful for the most part, and Joscur liked it that way. As he passed the few people who were out and about like he was or hanging out of their windows, he made it a point to greet them with a smile.


    As he patrolled he kept an eye open for any sort of disturbances. They were few and far between but vigilance was part of the job, so he did his part but moving along and only stopping to briefly chat with his fellow citizens. Normally, he would have started from his home and moved along in a counterclockwise circle through Mirage. Joscur never took the same path if he could help it. He made it a point to try and explore every street this city had to offer and familiarize himself with as much of it as he could, avoiding only those streets which still remained sand or were under construction, randomly zig-zagging and today was no different, only the starting point had changed. He was headed for East One currently following the main road from Natator Tower. He¡¯d turn off of it soon enough and go where his feet lead him.


    Joscur had no weapon on him today nor did he normally have one. There was no need. Mirage was mostly a peaceful city whose spats could be solved by a guard either intervening into a situation before it became physically violent or, if it had already become, direct physical intervention from the trained guards would put a stop to any brawling. Weaponry were kept in several stations throughout the city which guards like him could access in order to pull out what tools were necessary when they were called for. Joscur thought of this as he walked when he thought back on William with his naked blade. It was good that he was so cooperative. He really did need a sheath, though.


    ¡®Perhaps I will have one made for him after I receive word of his fate,¡¯Joscur thought to himself as he turned off of the main road down a side one heading north. ¡®Assuming he is allowed to stay, it would be thoughtful to help him acclimate to Mirage and its customs. I can spare the gems!¡¯


    Thoughts of a purchase for later were interrupted by the buzzing of an ornithopter above his head. Joscur squinted into the sky which was quickly filling with natators and he spotted the flying machina as it flew past him. The teardrop shaped machina with insectile wings flitting past just beside the paths which the natators drifted on by, growing smaller by the moment as it left Joscur behind. He smiled at the sight of the ornithopter, feeling secure in its presence. They were the city guard¡¯s eyes in the sky, helping to keep track of any disturbances within the city and making their responses more efficient. Like the natators, they roosted in Natator Tower and were attended to by technicians who repaired them and retroactively analyzed the footage they acquired during their flights. Watching them buzz by always filled Joscur with a sense of ease and a pang of regret. If they had ornithopters in Mirage four years ago, Syla might still be alive¡­


    He turned back eastward down a different side street, thinking about the good that the ornithopters had brought to the city. Unlike the city guards, those machina were tireless and could see things from angles that they couldn¡¯t. Very few of the guards patrolled the skies on natators, especially during the day, so having them around to sight acts of civil disturbance were a major help to their jobs! People had really grown used to their presence within the city now since their introduction. He used to see people cowering in fear from the ornithopters¡¯ ever present gaze. Now they were numb, accustomed to their flights and recognizing that if they did nothing wrong, there was nothing to fear. Random crimes had gone down within the city as well since their introduction. Joscur deeply appreciated the ornithopters.


    In time, Joscur made it to East One and began to head south. It was another peaceful day in Mirage it seemed, with everyone going about their business, him greeting them and being greeted in return. He¡¯d only had to stop once in order to check on a small group of four boys who were playing and getting frustrated at one another. A quick word about fairness, a warning about rough housing, and they were on their way and he on his. He took some time to rest his legs in the shade of someone¡¯s home while listening to someone practice the kora. The young woman wasn¡¯t very good at it just yet, but her grandmother, he assumed, was sitting with her and helping her. If she kept up at it, he knew she¡¯d be playing well before long.


    As he rested his legs he watched one of the animunculi come marching down the street. It was the same sort that had been sent out with him and his team of other guards to get William the day before, big and bulky and lumbering. Joscur knew that there were supposed to be different types of animunculi that looked different, but these were the only ones he¡¯d ever seen. They, too, patrolled Mirage though not in the same way that he and the ornithopters did. Their job was to maintain the barrier which surrounded Mirage. There were twenty of the giant metal men who wandered about the city and maintained the structural integrity of the barrier, tending to the machinery which kept it up and running. From what he understood it was a constant effort to keep the Wastes out! Periodically, sand would build up outside against the near invisible protective shell and would need to be cleared to help preserve the integrity of the city wall. Joscur didn¡¯t quite understand it all, but he understood enough to know that they were just as essential for keeping the city functional as it was as the ornithopters. He showed his respect to the animunculi by nodding his head as it passed. It did not nod back. They never did.


    Something else which the animunculi were responsible for were the clepsydras that were scattered around the city. Joscur watched as the walking metal giant strode past one just a bit north of where he now stood in the shade, the device placed in the intersection of a road. There were several such devices scattered around Mirage and they acted as both time pieces and wells, drawing up fresh water from deep beneath the ground to tell time and hydrate the city. Each was also equipped with a gnomon and there were markings in the glass streets which would let even those viewing them from on high know what time it was.


    Seeing the clepsydra, Joscur was reminded about his near daily appointment with Daniellex. The godfather to his children tended to begin his days earlier than the guard and so took a lunch earlier than Joscur, which was usually a perfect little distraction for him during the mid early portion of his day. He made a detour to go check what time it was, pushing his way out of the shade and going only so far as to see the time before turning back around and heading south. By the time he arrived at his friend¡¯s place, it should be his lunch break, where the two of them usually met up and spent the better part of an hour or so in each other¡¯s company.


    He knew the way by heart from practically any position in the city from his years of patrol and so made a swift beat to Daniellex¡¯s place which took about forty five minutes or so. He, unlike Joscur, lived in one of the many apartment blocks which dotted the city. Individuals without families tended to live in these complexes, and Daniellex had been kind enough to relocate to South Two after Vamenco had been born so that he could spend more time together with Joscur and his family. He remembered fondly how the bushy bearded man had insisted. It was one of his favored memories from that dark time¡­


    Arriving at his destination, Joscur would push the door inside and almost immediately encounter Old Baum, who always seemed to spend his days sitting in a chair and staring out of the window just next to the door, always seeming as if he was about ready to depart but not quite ready yet. His bushy white mustache couldn¡¯t hide the smile on his face he always gave Joscur when he showed up nearly daily.


    ¡°Pleasant moons, Joscur. You are late today!¡± Old Baum said, holding his hand out. Joscur took it in his and smiled back.


    ¡°Pleasant moons, Baum. I had an errand to run this morning that kept me, and some children were on the verge of a scuffle in the streets!¡±


    ¡°Oh, those kids,¡± Old Baum scoffed, waving his hand dismissively, as though rejecting the very notion of childhood tomfoolery! Joscur enjoyed Baum¡¯s company, but he was there for Daniellex and could only spare a limited amount of time and still remain a responsible guardsman.


    ¡°Soft winds to you, Baum,¡± Joscur said, releasing his hand and turning to head up the enclosed stairs that lead upwards to the third floor where Daniellex¡¯s quarters lay. Old Baum turned in his seat and held his wrinkled hand out to Joscur as he walked past.


    ¡°He has left already, you should know!¡± he said, understanding Joscur¡¯s purpose here. The guard stopped on the second stair and turned around to the old man, stepping back down with a puzzled look on his face.


    ¡°Oh? Did he say where he was going? Perhaps to my home?¡± he asked. Old Baum shook his head.


    ¡°No such luck. Nary a passing glance as he rushed out the door.¡±


    Joscur¡¯s concern grew. This wasn¡¯t the first time that Daniellex had skipped their lunch appointment together, and it was either for a very serious reason, or a very silly one that he did so. The question now was which was it? Without another word he began to climb the stairs, heading upwards and around two flights as he got to the third floor where he headed straight for his friend¡¯s room, but stopped some distance down the hall, sighed, shook his head, and turned back around to head downstairs. There was a long red ribbon hanging out of the door.


    Joscur knew where Daniellex was.


    Scarlet Boulevard was located in North One and was quite a walk away from South Two, over an hour and a half! Joscur imagined that Daniellex had gotten a natator to take him there instead of walking himself, which made this whole ordeal all the more annoying! This wasn¡¯t the first time that he¡¯d attempted to draw Joscur in to the pleasures that were available to those willing to pay gems, it probably wouldn¡¯t be the last. As he walked he almost considered taking the long way around and making him spend more gems in order to stay there longer! It might have served him right for being so crass, but no. he ultimately decided to save himself time and simply take the major road directly to the east that lead straight to Natator Tower, head past it, and up into North One. He could do his job on the way there at least and make sure that all was in order.


    Finding Daniellex wasn¡¯t very difficult. It was more tedious than anything, Joscur having to, at once, keep both an eye and an ear out for his friend, and reject the advances of those who worked here who tried their luck at having a guard spend some gems on them. As an unofficial rule, city guards did not tend to frequent this part of North One so as not to slack on their duties, yet they were at once constantly checking in on the place to make sure all was well and in order, business going by without a hitch. Unsurprisingly, Scarlet Boulevard was one of the more active parts of the city when it came to disturbances and crime, so a constant presence of the guard was all but a requirement. None the less, he, and the men and women who took turns patrolling the entrances to the boulevard, tended to only stick to the outskirts unless they heard or were reported any trouble happening within. The ornithopters were a great help in this matter and had brought down fraternization greatly as a result.


    He heard his friend¡¯s bellowing laughter coming from up ahead and smiled, despite his annoyance, gently pushing past a worker on the boulevard to walk ahead to see Daniellex, lounging on an outside set of cushions with three women in red around him, one in each arm and one stood behind him. Seeing his friend, Daniellex¡¯s eyes lit up! He sat upright and pulled his arms out from behind the women he¡¯d hired for the moment. ¡°Girls, girls, look! See? Did I not tell you he would come? The finest ningen you¡¯re likely to see this side of the Empire!¡± he jovially boasted.


    ¡°I thought we were supposed to be meeting for lunch,¡± Joscur said, clasping one hand over the other wrist in front of his stomach and giving Daniellex an incredulous look.


    ¡°My work came to an end early today! I have no obligations left to keep me from here!¡± he said, turning to either side of him and placing a hand on either of the women¡¯s thighs and rubbing on them. They smiled politely back at him and he pointed at Joscur. ¡°I knew that you would follow me here. Come, sit! We can sup lunch here!¡±


    ¡°Dani, my friend, come now,¡± Joscur said, holding that same incredulous look. This was a discussion they¡¯d had before.


    ¡°Joscur, please, my friend, I am begging you ¨C you need to lighten up sometime!¡± Daniellex said, leaning forward and extending an arm out for Joscur to take. He did not.


    ¡°I appreciate the gesture, but truly, I would prefer if you did not pull me into this antics of yours.¡±


    ¡°But why not? You do not know what you are missing!¡± Daniellex tempted, turning to the woman on his right and moving his hand up to her cheek. Knowing the game, she nestled her cheek into his palm as he chuckled. ¡°Her I bought the services of for you. Her name is Ouna, is she not a lovely girl? Ouna, darling, is my friend Joscur not a handsome man?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I would say so,¡± she replied, turning and giving Joscur a gentle smile, her teeth standing out brilliantly against her dark skin. He did not smile back.


    ¡°Do not squander this generosity, my friend! Come, sit with us! There is food and drink inside, and when we are ready, you and lovely Ouna can share a room, while I take another with these two!¡±


    ¡°Dani, please.¡±


    The smile fell from Daniellex¡¯s face. He reached over and gently took the hand of the woman on his left, lifting it up and giving it a kiss. ¡°Girls, wait for me inside, will you? And perhaps bring some fresh water for us to drink?¡±


    ¡°As you wish,¡± the woman in red replied, the three of them standing and heading back in. Ouna gave a last look to Joscur before disappearing into the shade of the building.


    ¡°You know they cost a garnet each,¡± Daniellex said, trying to impress on his friend his generosity with this gesture.


    ¡°Likely for what you want to do with them,¡± Joscur countered.


    ¡°That is besides the point!¡± Daniellex said, waving his hand dismissively and sighing. He grabbed one of the smaller square pillows and tossed it over by Joscur¡¯s feet. ¡°Sit.¡±


    ¡°I am on duty, Dani.¡±


    ¡°And you are doing a fine job of protecting these working girls, now sit!¡± Daniellex spoke up harshly. Joscur took a seat on the cushion while Daniellex leaned forward and clapped his hands together in his lap. ¡°Listen, my friend, you are not making this easier on yourself by refusing to take another woman to bed. It has been five years now; you are allowed to try and find happiness again!¡±


    ¡°And I will not find it in the arms of a woman I have paid for,¡± Joscur said gently, earning him a scoff from Daniellex.


    ¡°How do you know if you will not try, hm? You¡¯re like a boy, refusing to try unicorn milk!¡± Daniellex scolded, waving his hand dismissively at Joscur before rubbing at his bearded chin.


    ¡°Look, I understand you mean well, but this simply is not for me, my friend,¡± Joscur said just as Ouna came back out with two cups in one hand and a jog of water in the other. She passed the refreshment to Daniellex who thanked her briefly and sent her on her way. He looked back after her as she went.


    ¡°I think you would be surprised¡­¡±


    ¡°I am not going to find happiness between the legs of a scarlet woman, Dani.¡±


    ¡°Highly doubtful!¡± Daniellex scoffed, looking back at his friend and pointing at him. ¡°I still remember that stupid smile on your face the first day after you managed to get between Syla¡¯s legs! It never left your lips once for over a week! You were downright dumb at the time, and you tell me you cannot find it again? Have you ever tried?¡±


    ¡°Come on, Dani ¨C we both know the smile was for more than that,¡± Joscur said, taking a cup from his friend and looking down at his reflection in the water. ¡°I am not ready to even try, yet. You know this, and you keep trying to push me into a ridiculous arrangement like this, wasting our time and your gems.¡±


    ¡°Only because I want to see you smile again, like you used to,¡± Daniellex replied somberly, taking a drink of the cool water. He sighed. ¡°Five years since Syla passed¡­ I know it has been hard, and that you are devoted to your family, but Joscur, my friend, my brother ¨C you need to stop grieving eventually, for the sake of your children. You bury yourself in work and distract yourself as much as you can with duty.¡±


    ¡°Being a part of the city guard is important work,¡± Joscur said, not looking up from his cup.


    ¡°So is construction! Mirage would collapse in on itself if it was not for me and my hammer!¡± Daniellex boasted, leaning over towards Joscur. ¡°But, I still make time for these little pleasures, so that I do not go mad! I fear you are letting grief drive you so, slowly, and you do not realize it yet¡­¡±


    Joscur did not reply.


    ¡°Look, Jos, just¡­ try, would you? It is easy. You never forget how to do it once you learn, you know.¡±


    Joscur did not reply.


    Daniellex sighed heavily. They both took drinks for their cups, Joscur after Daniellex.


    ¡°Okay. Well. I am not going to waste garnets. I am going inside,¡± the bearded man said, getting up from where he sat with the jug and cup in his hands.


    ¡°Dani.¡± Joscur stopped him with his name. ¡°Thank you for trying. Just¡­ not today. Will you come for dinner tonight?¡±


    ¡°Of course. I love spending time with my god children!¡±


    ¡°Wash up before you do, please,¡± Joscur requested, standing up and passing him the cup. Daniellex chuckled, poured what was left of the water onto the street, and went inside to get his three garnet¡¯s worth of flesh.


    Joscur left Scarlet Boulevard to continue his patrol.


    ***


    By the time that Joscur had made it through North Two, West One and Two, and South One, he was ready for a break and some food. He made his way home for lunch, expecting the house to be empty or at the very least only Vamenco and his caretaker for the day present but was surprised to hear many voices coming from the open windows of his domicile. As he walked up to the front door, he recognized his daughter¡¯s voice and grew confused. Wasn¡¯t she supposed to be at work with Kara? He opened the door and walked in on Marisia, Vamenco, Bolara, who was often on duty to watch his son, and, most surprisingly of all, William, sitting in the pit around one another. All of them looked over at Joscur as he entered.


    ¡°Baba!¡± Vamenco cried excitedly, scrambling up and rushing his father who laughed and stood firm as his son ran into his legs and hugged his waist.


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    ¡°Vamenco, my boy,¡± he grinned, running his hands over his son¡¯s bright hair. ¡°You have so many people over today!¡±


    ¡°We were telling scary stories!¡± Vamenco excitedly declared, hooking his fingers into the leather thongs of his father¡¯s gauntlets and pulling him over towards the sitting pit.


    ¡°Scary stories?¡± the father asked. ¡°That does not seem like very good conversation over lunch¡­¡±


    ¡°Vamenco is to blame,¡± Marisia piped up with a cheeky grin. ¡°He simply had to know what William had gone through, and William was explaining his experiences.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± The smile fell from Joscur¡¯s face.


    ¡°With the reauslers you saved me from,¡± William spoke up, giving Joscur a knowing look. Joscur trusted that William understood he would not say too much from the look in his gray eyes.


    ¡°I was just telling Vamenco about the Tooth Collector!¡± Marisia chimed in, pulling his lips back to expose her teeth and holding his hands up like menacing claws! It was a favorite bed time story of hers who did not scare as easily as she once did. A boogeyman-esque figure, the sort that no one was certain where the stories had come from, it was a story about a lone figure wandering the Wastes with a cart filled and covered by teeth from the mouths of victims it had plundered. Supposedly, you heard its creaking wheels before you ever saw the Tooth Collector itself, and by then it was too late! Your teeth were forfeit!


    Vamenco looked up at his father. ¡°It is not true, is it? The Tooth Collector?¡±


    ¡°That old story?¡± Joscur asked, looking at his daughter. She¡¯d been told that story growing up by her mother who used it to scare their daughter into behaving. Somehow, he just didn¡¯t have the energy to play along. ¡°It is just a tale, Vamenco. Nothing to be afraid of.¡±


    ¡°Baba? Is everything alright?¡± Marisia asked, hearing something in her father¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Yes, all is well. I am hungry and thirsty, though. Marisia, why are you here and not at the market with Kara?¡±


    ¡°Kara agreed to cover my duties for me, what little they are, after we had our lunch.¡±


    ¡°Marisia,¡± Joscur scolded lightly. He spoke in his native tongue; ¡°We must each do our part to beat back the Wastes, or else become a part of them.¡± A maxim spoken among the Mirage citizenry meant to inflame a sense of purpose.


    Marisia had heard it plenty before and was tired of the maxim. ¡°Yes, baba,¡± she said, turning away from her father. They¡¯d had the same conversation that Kara and she had had before. She felt that he didn¡¯t understand either.


    ¡°Bolara, could you find me something to eat? Manoushe and toum if any are left, I need to rest for a bit,¡± Joscur requested.


    ¡°Come on, Vamenco, help me find your father something to eat,¡± the young care taker said, getting up and reaching a hand out for Vamenco to take, who did and followed excitedly to help get his father¡¯s lunch ready. Joscur took a seat down in the pit and let out a sigh, glad to be off of his feet for a while.


    ¡°So, how did your meeting with the Seven go?¡± Joscur asked William once he was sat down. Marisia turned back to sit at attention. She¡¯d been avoiding this topic since she got back.


    ¡°They decided to let me stay in Mirage. I¡¯ll be given somewhere to stay tomorrow, and they¡¯re putting me to work as a wellerman,¡± William answered.


    ¡°A wellerman?¡± Joscur asked, perplexed by the council¡¯s choice in vocation.


    ¡°Tomorrow? So soon?¡± Marisia asked, surprised to hear that he was leaving them already.


    ¡°Apparently,¡± William replied to both of them.


    ¡°Does that mean you are being allowed to stay permanently?¡± Joscur inquired.


    ¡°Only until they can get a hold of someone I know in the mainland.¡±


    ¡°Would you still come to visit us when you are in Mirage?¡± Marisia asked, earning her a look from her father.


    ¡°I suppose I could,¡± William said, his voice reflecting the gentle smile on his face.


    ¡°I think Vamenco would like that,¡± she said, herself smiling.


    ¡°Would he?¡± Joscur asked, his eyes shifting over to William. ¡°My son has taken a liking to you?¡±


    ¡°He likes the stories I tell,¡± William replied.


    ¡°They¡¯re very entertaining, baba,¡± Marisia said, reaching out and touching her father¡¯s hand. He held his daughter¡¯s fingers in his own and looked back and forth between the two young people sitting with him.


    Bolara returned shortly thereafter with the manoushe and toum, giving Joscur a chance to eat while he rested. Conversation shifted again to scary stories about the Wastes, and it was Bolara¡¯s turn to share about the time he swore he saw a geist just beyond the city shield. Vamenco seemed at once excited and horrified at the prospect of the specters out in the Wastes. Joscur believed in what Bolara said, having seen them himself. During these talks, William shifted and picked his sword up, laying it across his lap and surprising Joscur since it was now covered.


    ¡°Ah, you have a sheath now,¡± he said, delighted. ¡°Seems you have saved me some gems. Who paid for it?¡±


    ¡°No one,¡± William informed him. ¡°It was an order given by the council, so I think the smith made it out of obligation. He was kind enough to make it to my specifications, though.¡±


    ¡°Minimalist?¡± Joscur asked, noting how plain and ramshackle the leather covering looked.


    ¡°Fast,¡± William corrected.


    ¡°All the better, then. You should have no more issues with carrying it so long as it remains in its sheath while you are within the city,¡± the father reminded him, dipping more bread into the delicious condiment. He followed his statement up with an impulsive question. ¡°Perhaps you can enlighten us as to why you refuse to part with it, now?¡±


    William¡¯s face fell at the question, his grip tightening on his weapon. ¡°It¡¯s a family heirloom. The most valuable thing that I own, the only thing I have left of my family.¡±


    They were quiet at this revelation, but the five year old was the first to break it. ¡°Do you no longer have a baba and suta?¡±


    ¡°Vamenco!¡± Joscur snapped at his son, who turned to look at his father with concern in his eyes.


    ¡°But baba! If he does not have a suta like we do he may be sad!¡± Vamenco protested in his native tongue.


    ¡°It is rude to ask about such things,¡± Marisia said likewise.


    The little boy tried to argue the matter further but was shushed by his father, who also spoke in his first language to his children. ¡°That is enough. He does not have to talk about such things if he does not want to,¡± he began to explain, but was interrupted by William speaking up over him.


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. I am bereft of mother and father¡­ I don¡¯t have anyone left from before,¡± he said dryly, pulling his knees up to his chest and thinking about what the Dandy Man had told him¡­


    ¡°We could be your new family?¡± Vamenco innocently suggested. Joscur didn¡¯t have it in him to scold his son again, instead silently marveling at the young boy¡¯s empathy. Marisia was right; he had taken a quick liking to this stranger from the Wastes.


    His daughter was slightly more pragmatic. ¡°Vamo, we have only known him for two days! Do not be so quick to adopt someone you do not know,¡± she told her brother who, by now, was beginning to feel as if he¡¯d done something wrong but didn¡¯t quite know what.


    ¡°I appreciate the thought, Vamenco. How about I just try to visit from time to time? Would that be alright?¡± William suggested, seeing how sad the little boy was looking, speaking to him but directing the question to the boy¡¯s father with his eyes.


    ¡°Visits would be good,¡± Joscur agreed in between a bite of food. He did not say that he would check in periodically with the council and his fellow city guard to make sure that William was no one to be worried about. He might have made a favorable impression on his son, but the father was not about to let harm come to his children if he could help it, and if there was any chance that William was not worth trusting¡­


    ¡°How about more stories?¡± Marisia suggested in an attempt to shift the mood back to something more cheerful. So it went that the five of them sat together and exchanged stories until Joscur had to return to his patrol. Eventually, Bolara headed home for the day, leaving only three of them together to sit and talk and get to know each other. Come supper, Joscur and Daniellex both came around and shared a meal together with the children and their guest. Having spent much of the day getting to know each other, the mood was decidedly more relaxed than it had been the night before. As the day prior, Vamenco fell asleep first, then Daniellex left to head home, and before long, the other three headed to their rooms to rest as well.


    For his part, William sat by the window in the hall and looked out at the street below, watching as ornithopters flew by and considering the poster on the wall, the Dandy Man¡¯s words, what Mr. Wink could be planning, and thought of Cornello.


    Joscur fell asleep thinking of his children, his late wife, and assuring himself that, if need be, he had the strength to protect his children against even a kindly stranger. Sleep did not come so easy to the father that night, be sleep did eventually come.


    Marisia found herself lying in bed with her eyes open, a smile on her lips, thoughts consumed by the oddity that was William. He was so good with her younger brother, sounded so soft and kind, and told such wild, imaginative stories! Her sympathies were with him for not having a suta or baba anymore, thinking of how horrible it would be if her own father were no longer with her and her brother! She knew more about their guest than she did yesterday, and tomorrow he would sleep elsewhere within Mirage, but tonight he was her, and there was still so much about him that she did not know. Her curiosity alight even as she began to drift off to sleep, she dreamed of soft sounds that William made, her brother¡¯s laughter, and her mother.


    ***


    The next morning, Joscur woke William up from the guest room just before dawn and informed him it was time to go. With but the new clothes on his back and the newly covered blade, William left the house before Marisia or Vamenco had woken up and was met with a small escort of three individuals who had a natator of similar size of the one he¡¯d ridden the day before.


    ¡°Wellermen are respected for the duties they perform for Mirage,¡± Joscur informed William, drawing the pale stranger¡¯s attention to him. ¡°I have been told the labor is hard and varied, but they keep our city alive with everything that they do. You will find that your fellow wellermen take pride in what they do, and you should as well for as long as you are here in Mirage.¡±


    William did not answer, but he did smile.


    ¡°Well, soft winds to you, William. You are free to come and visit any time, so long as Marisia, myself, or Daniellex is here at least. She usually ends her shift at the markets in the mid afternoons, so that would be a good time to come around without warning,¡± the father explained.


    ¡°Soft winds,¡± William replied with a nod of his head and boarded the natator to depart.


    Their first stop was in West One, where William¡¯s apartment was. It was near the docks and the space was relatively small, on the third floor and outfitted with only some basic amenities. The apartment was bare and he would be free to decorate it as he saw fit when he had the time and the gems. An open room that was at once living room and kitchen, a small hall way at the back which lead to a window looking out at the city beyond, a room to the left that could serve either as his bedroom or storage if he chose to sleep in the opening room. Simple accommodations.


    His living quarters shown to him, William was then taken to the docks, where he was handed off to the ningen that would be his captain. Her name was Teutna and she, like him, had pale skin, although hers was tanned over and covered in freckles anywhere it was exposed. Her hair was boisterous and sun-bleached brown, her eyes a warm cocoa. She wore practical desert-faring clothing that was coarse and dirty from her excursions in the Wastes, loose fitting and airy. She was the only other person in Mirage that he had seen with skin as light as his. She was several inches shorter than he was and far more stout and rugged as well. William was relinquished to her by his guides and they left to head back into Mirage.


    ¡°Rally-ho, kinsman. Have you been told what it is you¡¯ll be doing?¡± she asked him. She spoke with a thick accent that William was unable to place.


    ¡°Only vaguely,¡± he confessed.


    ¡°Well the job¡¯s simple,¡± she said, turning around and heading towards her ship. ¡°You do what I say when I tell you to do it. If you get confused, you ask one of the mates. Understood?¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± William confirmed, following her.


    The Andros, as he would soon learn the ship was called, as an athletic looking boat. Thin and flat, crafted mostly of wood with an aggressive beak and sharp bowmeant for cutting through the desert sands and carving the way for them. On each side of the ship were three long, thin metallic arms which could be raised or lowered and served as both anchors and rudders, the ends capped with collapse-able sails to aid in catching the wind when opened. At the front of the deck was a pair of harpoon cannons meant for both the defense of the ship and the capturing of sand whales. The cannons were canopied by a collapse-able and adjustable tent of thick crimson canvas, providing both shade and protection from the sands. A second, far larger canopy of similar make covered the rear half of the Andros as well, shading the large machina engine which powered the adjustable propellers which hung off either side of the ship towards the rear, capping off a pair of torpedo shaped balloons which stretched two thirds of the length of the hull and gave the sandsailor limited flight capabilities in a pinch. Said balloons could be inflated or deflated at will by flipping switches on the engine to light a fire beneath them and fill them with hot air. At the foremost point of the rear canopy sat the wheel, and just in front of that rested the large steps which lead down into the hull of the Andros where cargo was kept, the crew slept, or shelter could be taken in the event of an unfortunate haboob. This lower deck was protected by a pair of folding doors which opened up on either side.


    Climbing aboard the Andros was a literal climb, the port side of the ship equipped with a thick-roped net that was tossed over the side with two anchors which gained purchase into the sand below and kept the net steady for climbing up and down. ¡°ALL HANDS ABOARD THE ANDROS! LET¡¯S GET ¡®IM OUTTA MIRAGE AND INTO THE WASTES!¡± Teutna called out for all to hear, the only warning she gave that they were about to shove off. ¡°William! Your first duty is to weigh the net anchors and pull it aboard. Others will help you, dislodge the anchors with a good flick of the wrist, aye?¡± the captain explained, turning around half way as she walked, holding her arms out, and demonstrating what she meant by a ¡®good flick¡¯ by waving her arms up and down while holding an invisible rope. ¡°I¡¯ll accept ¡®yes, mum¡¯ or ¡®aye, captain¡¯ as confirmation you understand my orders, is that clear?¡±


    ¡°Aye, captain,¡± William replied. She smiled and hopped onto the net, quickly climbing her way up with the dexterity that comes with hundreds of repetitions and pulled herself over the side before disappearing overhead. William set to work dislodging the anchors from the sand. With the help of two others, after coming aboard, he pulled the rope net up and rolled it up and shortly thereafter the Andros was off, the engines firing up, propellers whirling and Teutna steering the sandsailor away from Mirage and out of the protective barrier into the blazing heat of the Wastes, carving head of them great waves of loose flying silt as it charged forth through the dunes!


    Over the course of the next month, the Andros was William¡¯s primary home. It was only every few days that the Andros made port at the western side of Mirage, same as other sandsailors. During that time, he became acquainted with the other members of the crew that he shared with, all fifteen ningen, and got to know them and they he. They were quick to inform him of his duties and the proper protocols aboard the Andros. He learned terminology and the proper order of things about a sandsailor. He made sure to do whatever Teutna told him to do when she told him to do it. He learned what it was that a wellerman was supposed to do.


    A wellerman¡¯s duties were many. When possible, they were to hunt for sand whales first and foremost. Sand whales, those colossal swimmers of the sands, were at once one of Mirage¡¯s chief exports to the rest of the Empire, every part of the great amphibious beasts used and harvested. At almost all times at least one member of the crew was supposed to keep watch for signs of them carving their way through the sands. They were easily spotted if moving by the gigantic displacement of sands that gave away their wake. Part of what made them so valuable was the metallic minerals which accumulated on their skin, clinging and embedding themselves into the very flesh of the creatures. These hides were harvested and used for many things. The meat, fats, organs and bones were all processed, packaged, and shipped out whenever one was successfully captured and slain. The cannons at the front of the ship were used primarily for this purpose.


    During this month, William was only able to take part in the hunting of a sand whale once. The whole thing was very exciting and lasted longer than expected. He was helping another deckhand remove sand from off of the deck (a common occurrence) when suddenly there was a great commotion! Cries of a sand whale being spotted off the starboard caused ningen to drop what they were doing and look out, William included. Even from as far away as they were he could see how the sands moved to make way for the large animal gliding its way underneath it.


    ¡°MAN THE CANNONS! ALL HANDS PREPARE TO BE DRAGGED! I WANT THIS SHIP TO BE READY TO FLY IF NEEDED!¡± Teutna bellowed out. Her voice was always easily the loudest among the crew, there was never any mistaking it. By the time this happened, William understood what it meant to be ¡®dragged¡¯ ¨C once the harpoons were lodged within the sand whale, the creature was allowed to haul the ship wherever it pleased with only occasional resistance from the Andros itself so that it tired itself out. Naturally, this was dangerous letting such a large animal dictate where the ship was headed so crew were required to tie themselves down with rope attached to the sides of the ship to prevent anyone from going overboard. Once the order was given, ningen scrambled to find a rope to secure themselves with, William included, and from there they needed only to watch unless told otherwise.


    Four of the crew mates manned the cannons ¨C two to aim, two to load the harpoons ¨C and Teutna steered the ship. The way which she manipulated the Andros was simply masterful. William would come to find out that she¡¯d been the captain of one sandsailor or another for the better part of two decades and so had an uncannily good understanding of how they operated. With a stomp of her feet upon two separate pressure plates, the small sails at the ends of the arms folded up, and with the pull of a lever to her right they dropped as one, digging into the sand and causing the entire ship to turn on a dime, careening nearly on it¡¯s side until she reversed the lever and the arms were pulled back upwards, the Andros righting itself and now headed straight for the whale!


    It was amazing how fast the sand whale could move through the dunes, but the propeller launched ship was faster. In very little order they were upon it and the rotating cannoneer nest took aim! ¡°FIRE!¡± the captain roared and the crew obliged, twin thundering booms of cannons rocking the ship backwards with their power as the chain-linked hooked spears were sent sailing through the desert air and crashing down into the sands and the flesh of the beast!


    As soon as the twin harpoons had found purchase within its hide the sand in which the animal hid erupted, a billowing plume of sand shooting skyward before an explosion followed as the magnificent creature rose up from beneath the desert film and let out a torturous cry of pain! It was mostly flat and wide, with four paddle-like fins each about five meters in length. It¡¯s skin was perfectly camouflaged with the sand around it, sparkling in the desert sun from the embedded metals! The underside of it¡¯s ventral pleats were a lighter color tan than its upper portion. Rising in protest to its fate, it was easily over fifteen meters long and came crashing back down into the sand, sending it flying up as easily as it might have done water before trying to dig away, pushing back down beneath the dunes and pulling the chains of the harpoons down with it.


    ¡°GET ME AIRBORNE! FORWARD TILT!¡± Teutna ordered, a pair of crewmates rushing forward from where they were at on either side of the engine and turning the wheels that lit the fires to the balloons which inflated rapidly before dropping to the floor and holding onto their ropes with both hands. The captain pushed the wheel forward after stomping on a latch which held the column in place and the propellers began to tilt, lifting the Andros up in the air from the rear of the ship and pulling back against the sand whale below! Every crew member, including William, not holding onto something were quickly sent sliding down the deck and hung by their protective ropes!


    The whale gave some fight but quickly realized it would not retreat down with the harpoons pulling on its back, so it began its only other course of retreat; upwards. Sand whales, much like sand sailors, were capable of limited flight by first rising to the surface and then inflating specialized steam bladders within their body to and expelling all of the air in their lungs and these organs out of vents along the sides of their bodies, they are able to leap into the air and soar temporarily!


    ¡°BRING US DOWN!¡± the captain demanded as soon as she saw the whale beginning to breach the surface again, the same two crew members climbing up their ropes and pushing off of the sides of the ship to leap and grab a hold of the engine before reversing the wheels and cutting off the fire to the balloons. As soon as the hiss of the flame was silenced, Teutna yanked on a lever between her legs and forcibly collapsed the twin balloons on either side of the ship, expelling the air and bringing the Andros back down into the sand, the quaking impact causing all hands to either leap into the air to avoid the impact, as experience had taught them to do, or be bounced like a doll, as William did!


    As the sand whale inflated the lower part of its body and expelled the air in great gusts that send clouds of desert dust flying in either direction behind it, much of it billowing on the Andros itself, it rose up into the air, fanning its muscular tail and flapping its flippers like wings, trying in vain to free itself from its captors. Alas, with the harpoons firmly lodged within it and the weight of the Andros back on the surface of the dunes acting as an anchor, whipping back and forth with Teutna whipping the wheel as necessary to keep the ship upright, the whale was unable to break away and was forced to collapse back down into the hot sands in another majestic puff of silt and soil. It had but one course of action left to it ¨C swim and try to make it to water, but by this point it was too late. Try as it might, the engine of the Andros was strong and between allowing the whale to pull it where it may and reversing the rotation of the propellers to pull backwards on the whale and slow it down, over the course of a couple of hours, they managed to exhaust the animal and bring it to a halt.


    What followed was a mercy killing of the animal, the crew disembarking off of the Andros with harpoons in hand to deliver a death blow through the eye of the beast. The hides were especially thick and difficult to pierce without the air of a cannon, earning them the nicknames ¡®animunculi whales¡¯ because of the metallic cause of this natural armor, and so the only way to swiftly and easily put the creature out of its misery was through the soft tissue of its eye and to the brain beyond. Its end was as merciful of one as any hunter could give such a creature. William still felt sad at seeing it pass on. With the creature successfully hunted the crew of the Andros disembarked and headed back to Mirage, dragging the carcass behind them as they went with the ship being piloted in reverse, the steering column able to rotate for this very purpose. While reversed, the helmsman required the air of two crew members, one on each side, to guide them as the engine made any sort of viewing near impossible.


    This hunt was but one duty of a wellerman. ¡®Animunculi whales¡¯ were at once rare, both scarcely found and tricky to spot because of their near perfect camouflage, and their hunting limited by imperial law. A single whale provided a bounty of materials that could last for months if managed properly, so while quite profitable for Mirage to do so, only a couple dozen or so were hunted and captured each year, making each one an exciting event that sustained ningen life in the Wastes and propelled economies. Sand whales were in of themselves an entire industry because of their value.


    They were far from the only industry, however. The majority of a wellerman¡¯s job was to transport cargo to and from Mirage to one of several ports along the eastern coast of the continent, where the Wastes met the Eundian Sea. The closer that one came to this sea, the more greenery you saw. By the grace of the ocean and its weather flora was able to thrive here for a few key miles before giving way to the ocean of sand. Trees, bushes, ferns, grasses, and cacti, some bearing water-rich fruits, could all be found there along with settlements which served as ports and imperial outposts. Expeditions into the Wastes itself were difficult enough even with the proper equipment, so the Empire¡¯s direct presence was only felt here along this eastern coast where it could be more easily defended and enforced, leaving the Wastes and its inhabitants to their own. One such port which the Andros frequented was a small village known as Dragon¡¯s Perch, roughly three day¡¯s journey from Mirage.


    From there, the Andros and his crew were able to pick up and drop off crates, packages, receive and give any mail going to or from Mirage, shipments of food and wine, clothing and materials such as wood and steel not easily found or crafted within the desert, and, importantly, raw gemstones which were only ever delivered to Dragon¡¯s Perch.


    Part of what made Mirage such an industrial trade city were the existence of gemstone mines within the Wastes. In centuries passed, by chance and the raw determination to make it so, the inhabitants of Mirage had managed to dig out great pits within the Wastes, revealing the bounty of raw gemstones deep below the surface which were mined up and shipped to the mainland in order to be manufactured and faceted into the gems which were used as currency by one and all within the Empire, the very same sort which William had seen Joscur using. In these great pits, which the Andros occasionally pulled up beside in order to receive shipments of the raw stones and deliver empty crates and barrels for their trafficking, were troves of clear quarts, citrine, amethyst, diamonds, and the rare, occasional vein of garnet, aquamarine or topaz, as well as other precious gems which were not used for currency but instead other industries, were retrieved from the ground. The rarer, and thus more valuable, currency gemstones, sapphire, emerald, and ruby, could not be found here, and even the garnet, aquamarine and topaz veins were hard to come by. The majority of the stones mined here were of the lower quality and rarity. Over the course of the month, William, aboard the Andros, would visit three of these yawning pits into the underground, all of which were within a day¡¯s travel by sand sailor from Mirage itself.


    When the Andros and his crew were not delivering goods from Mirage to Dragon¡¯s Perch or vice versa, visiting the gemstone mines which helped the empire at large to function, or hunting sand whales, something else that a wellerman was charged to do was to trawl the sands. This was the second most common duty which they undertook, and it was fairly simple. The Andros would be equipped with a magnetic mesh net with thousands of tiny holes like a sieve that was tossed out from the back of the ship from which it was attached and from there the Andros would simply sail, gathering sand as it went. The Wastes¡¯ sands were filled with tiny particles of metal, some of it ferrous and some of it not, which could be harvested and repurposed. The silica sand particles were filtered out through the sieve while the metallic hunks were gathered, and when there was enough of them, the Andros would return to Mirage where animunculi would take the net away, harvest the metal particles gathered, and sort them meticulously by type. These metallic powders would then be shipped off to the mainland, smelted down into Mirage itself, or be sent south to Golem¡¯s Isle, where the bulk of the animunculi population of the world dwelt, to be used as they see fit.


    The metal particles within the sand were but one of the reasons why the Wastes were so dangerous, making such thick, adjustable canvas necessary for the sand sailors, why protective clothing was so important. The sand was loose and ever shifting, carried by the wind and fickle at the best of times, hostile at the worst. If a sandstorm or a haboob was seen on the horizon approaching the crew were to shut the Andros down, anchor it in place, make sure the engine was covered, the balloons deflated (if not so already), and everyone was to crowd below deck to wait out the storm. The whipping sands slung slivers of metal like shrapnel, slicing through tender flesh such as a ningen¡¯s with frightening easy and causing havoc on an unprotected body! William, and the others, had a small stash of protective gear and masks, like Joscur and the other guards who had initially rescued him from the Wastes wore, in the off chance that they needed to go outside during such an event. Hunkering down during the Andros¡¯ first encounter with these harsh, dry storms, William realized how lucky he had been on his first day that he had been cowering behind a dune already and that the sand had merely blown over him as a result, burying him but sparing him from any major lacerations.


    On top of these extremely hazardous storms, hydration was paramount. At all times there were at least five, dozen gallon, barrels of water stocked below deck. If they had any less, Teutna refused to set sail. The metallic sands of the Wastes grew incredibly hot incredibly easily, and dying of thirst on any trip was a distinct possibility if you were unprepared for a wayward haboob to leave you stranded in place for days on end.


    There were also the reauslers to consider. Although rarely a concern, those intelligent predators were sought out along the horizon just as often as sand whales and steered clear of if so much as a hint of them were spotted. Thankfully their colored hides made seeing them fairly easy, and on more than one occasion William gave the call of a pack spotted off in the distance which altered their course. Those reptilian pack hunters were dangerous enough to a crew of wellermen armed with scant else but personal equipment and the tools required for hunting sand whales that it was better to lose time and give them as wide of a birth as possible than risk them attacking a ship. William was regaled with stories of careless crews which had found themselves swarmed and preyed upon by packs of the ravenous hunters who managed to either catch up to their sand sailor or sneak up on them in the dead of night. Some of the crew believed, as he knew, that they could speak, and would sometimes mimic the voices of others to try and draw people overboard before ambushing them!


    Yet more fauna to be weary of where pupa, titanic insects which mostly dwelt to the north of the Wastes and seldom came as far south as Mirage and the surrounding area. Never the less, if one was spotted, the best course of action was always to run without giving them the chance to pursue! Pupa were capable of flight and had voracious appetites, consuming whatever they could get their mandibles on! Worse, yet, though, were their larva. A ¡®pupa shower¡¯ happened when a pupa queen flew overhead and decided to lay her eggs while airborne, a natural part of their life cycle. What made this so dangerous, though, was the larva¡¯s ability to catch fire if it is disturbed from its sandy bed! This self immolation did kill the infantile bug, but so much as a single one of them beneath a sand sailor could spell doom for the entire ship and crew ¨C and if they were not disturbed, the little babies were just as hungry as the adults, digging out pits in the sands and waiting for prey to either fall in or get close enough that they could leap out and latch onto an unsuspecting passer by!


    Then there were reavers. The ningen natives of Mirage and those imperial mainlanders at coastal ports like Dragon¡¯s Perch were not the only people on this continent. Far to the west, as far away from the mainland as you can get before you start to circumvent the globe and travel back around, tribes of merciless, savage desert dwellers lived, eking out meager existences by plundering sand sailors like the Andros. Little was known about them or their ways, how they managed to survive so persistently without the protection of the shield which surrounded Mirage ¨C which was partially necessary because of the reavers! Stories claimed that they somehow coexist with the reauslers, learning from their ways and competing with them for what resources exist in the omnipresent barren wasteland. One thing was certain: Reavers were far more dangerous than the weather, reauslers, or pupa capable of striking at any time and without warning. They encountered no reavers during this month of work and toil. William was glad for this.


    Most mysterious of all, though, were the geists. William had been told about them that last evening he had spent at Joscur¡¯s home with his family, but to actually see them was chilling in its own way. Rarely, the flickering silhouette of a geist was visible traveling over the sand, standing ominously, flailing about, or simply phasing in and out of view. No one was quite certain what they were ¨C spirits of the deal, illusions of the desert, some other phenomena ¨C as no one had ever identified a geist by any of its features. What features were visible were distorted and shaky, shimmering as though their entire existence was naught but flashing light, and their actions inscrutable. The ningen aboard the Andros, Teutna included, always regarded them as a bad omen and gave them as much space as was possible to give. They never seemed to move towards them as though to cause harm. They never made sounds. They appeared at random, day or not. No one was certain as to what they truly were¡­


    William knew. The first time he saw one left him sullen for the rest of the day. He¡¯d been allowed to sit below deck, the captain believing that he¡¯d somehow been affected by them. If only she knew.


    He tried not to look at them whenever they were spotted again, to save himself the misery.


    When the crew of the Andros was not out working in the Wastes, they made port at either a coastal village like Dragon¡¯s Perch or were allowed a day or two of leave in Mirage to rest and recuperate. During this time, with what wages William had managed to earn for himself in gems, the crew would spend time together just as much as they would apart. Some were entirely eager to be separated from the people they¡¯d spent the last few days with and would go their own way immediately. Others would stick together, grab a drink, some food, visit Scarlet Boulevard. Teutna tended to be part of the latter group, and did her best to make William feel included, spending as much time with him as he would allow and never trying to push herself onto him or coerce him into spending more time with the other ningen. She respected his personal space and time just as she did everyone else¡¯s. As ladylike as such a stout, gruff woman could be.


    While he was spending time with them, either on the ship or during their time off, William probed them for information as much as he could. He asked all kinds of questions ¨C Where do these goods get sent to? Where are sand whales processed? The metal we gather from the sands? How long had the ornithopters been in the city? How long ago had the shield been erected? How active is the Council of Seven in city life? What were the posters for? Among many, many others. He didn¡¯t rush the questions and didn¡¯t ask them so often as to seem anything more than curious about his surroundings. The black haired stranger was slow, patient, careful with his words. He learned much through his questioning that did little to dissuade the ill sense of ease in the pit of his stomach when he thought of his encounter with the Dandy Man.


    When he was not spending time with the men and women he worked with, or resting at his newly appointed abode, he made a point to visit Joscur and his family. Often times he was allowed to spend the night there. Vamenco and Marisia were always so happy to have him visit! Joscur warmed up to him more and more as he came around, sharing stories about his occupation as a wellerman, and Daniellex was there just as often as he was. Between the five of them, the father, godfather, children, and the guest, William spent the time relaxing as much as he could, letting his mind rest as well as his body. He was drawing closer to his answers, but he wasn¡¯t there yet. These little breaks, spending time with a family that so clearly loved one another and extended that love and care to him, were as balm to sunburned skin. By the end of the month, he¡¯d developed his own tan.


    ¡°So, you have heard no word from your contact on the mainland?¡± Marisia asked one evening after Vamenco had gone to bed, Daniellex had followed in the sitting pit, and Joscur stood in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner, leaving William and Marisia to stand at a window beside each other looking out onto the street as the blue tint of evening fell like a sheet over Mirage.


    ¡°No, nothing yet,¡± William confirmed. He knew there never would be.


    ¡°I am sorry. Baba has mentioned that a civil war is happening on the mainland, have you heard anything about it?¡± she asked him.


    ¡°The war is still in something of a stalemate. From what I¡¯ve heard, none of the royal siblings have made any moves against one another. People seem to be growing apathetic about the whole thing, from what I can tell from people who fill us in at Dragon¡¯s Perch.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps that is a good thing. Maybe they will realize that it is a stupid thing they are doing, set aside their differences, and work with the new emperor instead of against him,¡± Marisia considered, turning and leaning against the cool stone wall.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be so easy,¡± William replied glumly. He¡¯d heard about how violent the Struggle of Succession had been, how sudden and chaotic, with the eldest and youngest siblings fleeing Damocles. This didn¡¯t seem like the type of petty political squabble that would blow over with time.


    ¡°Maybe it will, though. People can surprise you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what worries me,¡± William admitted, leaning his elbows against the window sill and watching as an ornithopter flew by.


    ¡°Marisia, I heard about what happened here in Mirage five years ago. The nightly raids,¡± he said gently. Marisia tensed up at the mention of those horrible times. ¡°Do you think you could tell me about what happened?¡± He looked at her for an answer.


    ¡°I do not wish to speak of it,¡± she said, pushing off of the wall and heading back towards the sitting area. He nodded his head and looked back out the window.


    He would have to stay here again tonight unless Joscur decided to escort him home. There was a curfew in Mirage that began right around sunset.


    There once was a ship that put to sea


    The name of the ship was the Billy o¡¯ Tea


    The winds blew up, her bow dipped down


    O blow, my bully boys, blow!


    Soon may the Wellerman come


    To bring us sugar and tea and rum


    One day when the tonguin¡¯ is done


    We¡¯ll take our leave and go!


    She¡¯d not been two weeks from shore


    When down on her a right whale bore


    The captain called all hands and swore


    He''d take that whale in tow!


    Soon may the Wellerman come


    To bring us sugar and tea and rum


    One day, when the tonguin'' is done


    We''ll take our leave and go!


    Before the boat had hit the water


    The whale''s tail came up and caught her


    All hands to the side, harpooned and fought her


    When she dived down low!


    Soon may the Wellerman come


    To bring us sugar and tea and rum


    One day, when the tonguin'' is done


    We''ll take our leave and go!


    No line was cut, no whale was freed


    The Captain''s mind was not of greed


    And he belonged to the whaleman''s creed


    She took that ship in tow!


    Soon may the Wellerman come


    To bring us sugar and tea and rum


    One day, when the tonguin'' is done


    We''ll take our leave and go!


    For forty days, or even more


    The line went slack, then tight once more


    All boats were lost, there were only four


    But still that whale did go!


    Soon may the Wellerman come


    To bring us sugar and tea and rum


    One day, when the tonguin'' is done


    We''ll take our leave and go!


    As far as I''ve heard, the fight''s still on


    The line''s not cut and the whale''s not gone


    The Wellerman makes his regular call


    To encourage the Captain, crew, and all!


    Soon may the Wellerman come


    To bring us sugar and tea and rum


    One day, when the tonguin'' is done


    We''ll take our leave and go!


    Soon may the Wellerman come


    To bring us sugar and tea and rum


    One day, when the tonguin'' is done


    We''ll take our leave and go!

 Chapter 8

    I know, I know,¡¯ Norn thought to himself, having a conversation with the ring of piled stones rather than continue to think of rumors and speculation. ¡®I¡¯m late for breakfast! Gotta get the water so I can start cooking!¡¯


    You¡¯d have had time to put on some socks if you hadn¡¯t slept in! Just have to do better tomorrow so you aren¡¯t cold in the morn!¡¯


    Silly old man, you should¡¯ve gone to bed earlier!¡¯ he berated himself. If he couldn¡¯t even do this properly, what good was he to his family?


    It¡¯s not meant for me anyways,¡¯ he thought.


    War! After all this time! War¡­ although, Darvish has been at war for a bit longer than me and my brothers, hasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ADVANCE!¡± the black eyed Knight bellowed like rolling thunder. In every direction at once came the stomping of footsteps. From out of the fog stepped lines of soldiers, emerging from between buildings, up and down the street in which the crowd stood. Each one of them equipped with spear held high and shield overlapped in a phalanx, marching in unison. Those that tried to run quickly found themselves either skidding to a halt and trying to run in a different direction or, those panicked enough, attempting to break past the shield wall only to be repelled!


    ENCIRCLE!¡±Gilford ordered but no sooner had the word left his mouth than did a brave young fool rush forward and try to attack the Prince and his Knight! With fist he struck but was intercepted by a blur of white as Gilford side stepped the strike, passed the arm from one hand to the other and strike at his temple with an open palm strike! Another rushed forth and the Knight adjusted the balance of his body onto his back leg and gave a great kick to the stomach of the second would-be combatant before drawing it back and ramming his knee into the gut of the first! Both crumpled to the ground clutching at their abdomens!


    HALT!¡± Prince Ganymede shouted out, his voice distinct from the booming echo of his Knight. As one the soldiers stopped and stood, awaiting their next order just as they¡¯d been trained to do. Gilford stood back up straight and adjusted his gloves while the prince kept a hold of the man¡¯s wrist who had attacked him, pinning him where he knelt under pain of a broken elbow should he resist. Ganymede looked around at the throng of ningen around him and felt at once vindicated and disappointed. He¡¯d hoped for something a bit more organized than this, frankly, but he would make due.


    war, do you understand? War. You don¡¯t get to decide when it comes for you, it just does. And I am offering you a way out.¡±


    Kill you?¡± Prince Bayamon asked with an equal amount of derision in his tone. ¡°Oh, you¡¯d like that, wouldn¡¯t you? To be made a martyr to either immediately ignite the western continent against the mainland, or do so eventually after the civil war is over? No, no, no, no! I¡¯m officially done playing your games! Give me your name!¡±


    precious capital city of yours!¡± she hurled back at him! ¡°All ye do is take, an¡¯ take, an¡¯ take until there¡¯s naught left but wee boys who get taken and returned years later without knowing what home is! It¡¯s a load of shite!¡±


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    then try again with those that survived. You didn¡¯t believe me then when I sent messengers to tell you that I agreed with your plight, and that I wanted to help you achieve your goal of political independence, but maybe you¡¯ll believe it now that it¡¯s coming straight from my lips, hm?¡±


    and you expected anything else to happen? Are you sure you¡¯re not the daft one?¡±


    four miserable months! Do you have any idea how impressive that is!? How wasteful it would be to kill you without learning your name?¡±


    your homeland grow.¡±


    Empire,¡± she spat, ¡°duty, pride¡­ but their eyes were distant. Always looking south, beyond the horizon, like how I¡¯d imagined they¡¯d looked to the north when they thought of home!¡± She sobbed, unable to hold it back. A quick, deep, shaky breath righted her tone. ¡°The Empire took what was mine and perverted it somehow! Took away the babes I weened and turned them into scarecrows facing a far off field, waiting for crows that¡¯d never come! How could I respect an institution what would do that to a mother¡¯s children!?¡±


    Could never bee breached. The question was moot. Another excuse. More distant, crackling fire.


    told this before.


    were progressing, even when he wasn¡¯t receiving reports like the one Gawain had just given him.


    felt as if all of this was happening in slow motion! Each day that passed seemed to be longer and longer, and while he made it a point to attend as many war councils as he could to make decisions, be informed, and defer to Gawain or another Knight in matters which he did not feel qualified to make a ruling on, spending the majority of his time cooped up in the palace with nothing but his imagination, memories, and time had left him feeling antsy. Such was part of the reason why he¡¯d begun sneaking away in the first place to help out in Damocles itself. At least sorting through rubble he was actively doing something. Other than thinking, thinking, thinking¡­


    again.


    brothers,¡± the thing tempted, placing the emphasis in sing-song. It got Mordred to turn his eyes towards her. The singular black horn on the left side of her head was now in the sun, rising up off of her skull before spiraling down past her jawline.


    very long game!¡±


    majesty. You know the rules: no tell without touch!¡± she laughed, falling back onto the bed, arms at her side, legs spread. Inviting.


    game was. All she ever desired of him was his touch, and he was loathed to give it to her. Each time it felt like surrender in some incomprehensible way. Like he was, in fact, losing some important battle which he had no knowledge of. She was poison. Hideous and addicting.


    improve on what his father left behind, same as you. But with a firmness that you simply lack¡­¡± Mother Harlot¡¯s bare knee rose up and pushed between Mordred¡¯s legs. The Emperor pulled his hips back, shifting his weight onto his hand consequentially. The abomination gasped!


    mark on history by changing the course of it forever¡­¡± A vibrant pink tongue darted out from between her pied lips in a circular motion. ¡°He wants to be there when nations are born¡­ Separate. Individual. Different. Not like your empire, so uniform and together¡­¡±


    still thinks that¡¯s a possibility?¡± Mordred asked quietly in disbelief. He rose up off of Mother Harlot and sat beside her right side. He recalled his younger brother¡¯s curiosity about how the world came to be as it is. How he¡¯d pestered his father and tutor for answers. Why was the Empire the Empire? Had there ever been anything else? Could there ever be anything else? He remembered how Bayamon had been told, time and time again, that differing nation-states would only cause conflict between people because of perceived differences which were, ultimately, inconsequential and ephemeral. He remembered, once, one of their tutors had tried to illustrate it with a board game, separating pieces out, explaining that they were on different sides. Demonstrating how their separation created conflicting interests. Mordred remembered later trying to remonstrate this elegant point to Bayamon himself. Bayamon had flipped the board on him even faster than he had their tutor.


    I please you, your majesty?¡±


    wonders I could show you. I¡¯d make you feel more complete than you¡¯ve ever felt in bed before. Stronger men than you have had me. You can have me, too. I¡¯ll tell you all about Mr. Wink, your brothers, what¡¯s to come for you. Anything you want to hear my dear, sweet Majesty.¡±

 Chapter 9

    Don¡¯t haul on the rope!


    Don¡¯t climb up the mast!


    And if you see a sailin¡¯ ship


    It might be your last!


    Just get your civies ready


    For another run ashore!


    A sailor ain¡¯t a sailor ain¡¯t a sailor anymore!


    ¡°Is it the prospect of bein¡¯ with a scarlet lady then?¡± Teutna asked, seeing no reason not to test her theory now. She hadn¡¯t brought it up before then in order to be polite, but politeness could only hold back curiosity for so long. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s your first time or else I¡¯ll drag ye to the Boulevard myself! Stuff your scruffy head ¡®neath me arm and toss you on the first natator I see I will!¡±


    things ¨C could have come from, and vanished back to, are down those tunnels! Some dark part of me has wanted to go and see for myself what lies in wait in the shadows there, but we all learned five years ago, did we not? There are some places in Mirage where you are not meant to go¡­ but I will tell you something else!¡±


    have seen: members of the city guard. Patrolling. Guarding. What could they be guarding down there, hm? What is there to watch over down below?¡±


    What indeed,¡¯ thought William.


    to Mirage for a change! Of course you wellermen are always receiving shipments of food and water for emergency storage, necessities of living in the desert, you know, that sort of thing, but I distinctly remember that we were handing off shipments of glass and metal as well! Things created on the mainland or Golem¡¯s Isle, if memory serves. Busy, busy, busy we were! Yes, indeed. This civil war has got things feeling much like they did then. Oh, if only that wonderful lad Lucifer would show his face again! Now there was a ningen worth his salt!¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Lucifer. They¡¯d managed to lower three crates down over the side of the Andros up until that point but the instant that the name reached his ears William froze in place, head snapping to look down at the bloodling as he spoke.


    more essential than what he¡¯d been doing three thousand years ago¡­ give or take?


    These guards were not meant to open the door,¡¯ he quickly concluded in his thoughts, beginning to pace back and forth like a predator.

 Chapter 10

    ¡°


    was before he could decide on how to act.


    Now.¡±


    How much does William know?¡¯


    why William had done this. What did he have to gain by breaking the curfew and wandering out into the night to the one place where most of all he should not be? There was some time before the members of the council assembled. He decided he had to know.


    forward. He hadn¡¯t bothered to consider what may have been behind him. The black haired eidolon let out a puff of air through his nose. A stupid mistake.


    why, William? Why?¡± Joscur insisted.


    you know Lucifer?¡± William countered, looking up from the floor for the first time.


    Knew him? He was here?¡± William emphasized.


    begun to start!¡± She started in earnest by switching to Mirage-Tongue and speaking at such a speed and intensity that William had no hope of following what she was saying. He was pretty sure he understood the gist of it, regardless.


    laws ¨C of our city and put everyone in it in danger! Cast him out and be done with it!¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    once!¡± She whirled around and snapped the word in William¡¯s direction before turning back to Ode and Eira. ¡°Refused to openly answer questions! Would not disarm himself! Only ever gives half truths and avoids any and all personal information about himself! Now he has trespassed and, once again, endangered everyone in Mirage! What will it take for this council to recognize, as I do, that the mystery is not worth pursuing and the danger he represents is far too great!?¡±


    except that learning the truth is what is most important! Making decisions in haste is what cause those¡­ things which we guard to happen in the first place! Will you not learn from the past!?¡±


    council will decide what is to be done about him, once all of us have placed all of our cards out to be examined. Am I wrong?¡±


    astounding to him! Here was something truly new. Something he had no knowledge of. It was little wonder that it made him want to vomit from anxiety. As he got close enough to the tank that he could see his reflection hovering over the visage of the vile thing, he couldn¡¯t help but think of the Dandy Man and what he¡¯d told him. This was the secret Mirage was holding that could alter the fate of this world. He knew that much at least.


    thing, of what use could it have been for us?¡±


    acted like animals. Mindless. They needed to be caged, tranquilized to observe closely. Lucifer should have known that they were up to something after tranquilizing them seemed to illicit joy of all things. Perhaps he did, but he swore to us that he did not anticipate that they would start escaping and then returning to their cells! The attacks began again. Others became infected. Some were¡­ or were not, perspective depending, lucky. They were just killed¡­¡±


    Oleum One was stirring in its tank!

 Chapter 11

    so pleased with myself that this all came to fruition on schedule!¡± the Dandy Man cheered!


    Not again! Never again!¡¯ Joscur screamed in his head. A mantra of desperation. It would only take him a few moments to reach his daughter. If they were swift, a few moments more to find his son. Everything else was secondary! Even the memory of his wife.


    ideas. The past, it seems, is not so easily killed as the ideas that lead to the wars to which you were so thoroughly involved in, until you weren¡¯t of course, persisted in those that survived. But they were weak, you see. The Duke was slain and so the ideas had no real substance ¨C that is, of course, until they did.


    oily. In time, that something new took an amorphous shape and began to influence the world, and from that influence came conflict ¨C a pitiful shadow of the Dragon Wars, but potent none the less. Those that existed there attempted to spread out over the world and in doing so caused great chaos indeed! So, the four great races of the world came together and banded as one to put a stop to the madness: Ningen, dragons, animunculi, and arbora. Together, they were able to beat the cultists back to their island ¨C but were quite unable to destroy them entirely. You see, they were quite tenacious indeed.


    nothing, could escape it ¨C especially with the immortally vigilant animunculi keeping a constant surveillance along with the ever durable arbora providing support. The dragons, who gave the most of the four races to contain the threat, retreated to the east and became reclusive to the world, and the ningen, content that the conflict was over, went on with their lives and built the Empire as it is known today. Happy ending for all!


    plainly! Is Lucifer still directly involved in all of this? And if so, where can I find him?¡±


    now?¡± William asked, bewildered.


    not


    Never againNever again


    hadn¡¯tThis narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Move


    something


    Please


    talk


    No running from this. No fighting itDon¡¯t let him bleed on you


    Closer


    MARISIAVAMO


    Never


    It¡¯s overNow


    No


    LUCIFER


    I have to believe that they are fine

 Chapter 12

    HEAR ME!?¡±


    were other people at stake. A small part of him recalled how to be considerate of others, if minuscule.


    Baba¡­?¡± came a weak reply.


    Not yet. ¡°Come, we have to move this stone off of them.¡±


    PUSH!¡± Joscur roared. A blood vessel in his left eye had popped from the strain!


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Please wake up!¡± Joscur pleaded, patting his son¡¯s icy cheek desperately. Daniellex was speaking again, placing a hand on his friend¡¯s shoulder.


    I killed baby!!¡±


    now, of all times, more than ever!


    OOOOOOOOOOUT!¡± William howled with such vitriol as he spun around to address each and every one of the individuals hooked up to their machina that they all stopped what they were doing and looked first at him, then to the other council members.


    nothing but listen,¡± he said, raising his blade and pointing it at them as he stalked in front of them. The six of them chose to say nothing and listen.


    fucking idea what it is you¡¯ve meddled with! And you know what the scary part is? Neither do I! Not completely! You have no fucking idea how terrifying that is and I am not going to explain it to you. We¡¯re going to go over everything we know about these oleum right here, right now, and set the record as straight as it can be! Then, and only then, am I going to give you people a choice on how we handle this! Because this¡­ this is bigger than anything you¡¯ve ever been concerned about. Bigger than some war on a continent half a world away!


    specific locations. A coordinated attack, but he didn¡¯t attack this tower. Probably because of the oleum underneath it. They were reaching out to him! Calling to one another! Searching...¡±


    have to understand a thing,¡± William interrupted harshly. ¡°You just need to answer my questions! Oleum One came from the Black Isle, that¡¯s all you need to understand.¡±


    fanatics or some such nonsense. Nothing I¡¯ve ever heard suggests that something like Oleum One could have possibly -¡±


    not withholding information from you,¡± William aggressively corrected, slumping his back against the central seat and sliding down to the floor. ¡°I¡¯m telling you that you can¡¯t comprehend the full picture, and am giving you what I know you can.¡±


    That¡¯s the sort of thing you¡¯ve unintentionally gotten mixed up in. That¡¯s the forces you¡¯re dealing with, Mr. Wink, Lucifer, and I¡­ and these oleum are a far greater threat than any of you know because of what they did to Lucifer.¡±


    make you choose the other. I¡¯m a representation of choice itself.¡±


    needed to know, because these things are new¡­ and this time he paid for his curiosity.¡±


    Not like you are. So whatever that stuff is, it¡¯s more dangerous than anything you¡¯ve ever encountered in ways that you can¡¯t possibly fathom.¡±


    Of course Cornello wouldn¡¯t be there,¡¯ were his last thoughts before slumber overtook him.

 Chapter 13

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    HowforciblyWhy


    For the good of us all


    Periwinkle Skies for the first time as a lass.¡±


    Periwinkle Skies for meself, then I am cordially inviting you to come and have a drink with me before we go and spend the rest of the evening with Pertua¡¯s family!¡± she declared boisterously.


    Periwinkle Skies, and then you and I can go get a drink somewhere that¡¯s not demolished, then we¡¯ll go our separate ways to be with people who lost someone in all of this. Alright?¡±


    former sister, now an only child ¨C things she picked up and tried to ignore, hands grasping at her elbows to keep herself from falling apart. She felt no hunger and so had no food. She was surrounded by people she knew and yet felt as though in a room with strangers. All of these cousins and uncles and aunts she hardly knew, not because of any bad blood between family members, no. They simply did not interact very often outside of events where they gathered like this one (although usually under more fortunate circumstances) despite living in the same city. As far as she knew there was no real reason as to why they were as distant from one another as they were. That¡¯s just the way her family was, and consequently she knew basically no one in the room as much as she would have liked except for her godfather and her father, who were both grieving in their own way. Polar opposites of one another.


    What is wrong with me? Why do I feel this way?¡¯ she thought to herself in silent desperation.


    Where?

 Chapter 14

    damn fine soldier. Likely the finest that Goman had ever met or may ever meet! The likelihood of meeting a Knight was pretty slim these days, at any rate¡­ He¡¯d known Migs since before the Struggle, when things were much simpler, and it had been an exciting evening indeed when he and his other bunk mates pressured Migs into revealing just what kind of bloodling he was. Bets had been placed and Goman had lost ¨C he¡¯d been so certain at the time that he¡¯d be a Beast, not a Noble! Migs sat picking at his food and eating it slowly like he always did, shaded goggles firmly in place to keep the rays of the sun to a minimum. That was the one downside to bloodlings as soldiers: their sensitive eyesight. Fortunately, goggles were cheap and easy to source.


    perfect for sharpening a blade, to hear him tell it. Out of the five of them, he was the only one who had any plumbatae left. The rest of them had launched them at one thing or another (enemy combatants, an animal, a tree, etc.) weeks ago and had since had to go without. Buoh had been consistently the best among them at maintaining his equipment. The darker skinned ningen seemed to understand, long before any of the rest of them, that replenished equipment was going to be difficult to come by, so they had to maintain the ones they had with excessive care. Each of them had managed to keep at least two javelins on hand, none of the explosive ones of course, but Buoh had three plumbatae left to his name! Just as well since he was the best shot out of the five of them. He¡¯d certainly earned his rank of Bombardier many times over.


    before speaking to them on a personal level.


    good friends the animunculi, no different from one another in any way that mattered. One people, one nation, one world. That¡¯s the creed we were all taught¡­ so why¡¯s it feel like such a lie now? If we¡¯re all ¡®one people¡¯, then how come we just spent four months fighting and killing our own?¡±


    not pave the way for a new world.. I heard it all on the vine. They were never serious about independence.¡±


    for now, Migs,¡± Lance Bombardier Buoh stated bluntly, looking him in his goggled eyes. ¡°Once it¡¯s all said and done, they won¡¯t be our people anymore. They¡¯ll be their own people. Their own nation. Neighbors. The point,¡± he turned to look at Goman as he continued speaking, ¡°of all this was to get ourselves some neighbors eventually, who¡¯ll be free to govern themselves as they see fit and we¡¯ll be the same. Prince Bayamon¡¯s right. The world¡¯s too big to be for ¡®one people¡¯. It¡¯s got space enough for plenty more.¡±


    machina, they all knew that the conflict was over. In their haste to retreat from Damocles after the failed coup, none of them had been able to bring much with them. Not supplies, mementos of home, not extra equipment. The march to the Wuldrang mountains had been done to the beat of lectures on taking care of their equipment and making sure not to lose even a piece of it because of how few in number they were. So receiving word that the scouts had not only come back successful in their endeavor but, indeed, abundantly overachieving in their aim, it had been euphoric! Those war machina, once set into place and operated properly, had ended a stalemate lasting months in a matter of hours. They sat now, resting, not far from them, those walking trebuchets. He remembered how he¡¯d directed Buoh where to throw his explosive javelins with his atlatl to maximum effect. He remembered Migs, Geugo, Torbek, and himself all fanning out and storming a rebel encampment below them while Lance Bombadier softened them up from afar. He remembered the pained look on that ningen¡¯s face as he threw his own javelin into his belly and called it back to his hand. The sudden gush of crimson blood as the hole came unplugged.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    defend Damocles ¨C they hadn¡¯t heard so much as a peep from the Second Prince, the self proclaimed Emperor¡¯s, forces. True, Ganymede had wisely chosen to travel as far north as the Purified Ocean, and, true, they had done well to specifically go out of their way to avoid any and all settlements that were anywhere remotely close to a military outpost, fort, or major population center that would draw too much undue attention to their still small forces, but still, nothing? He couldn¡¯t understand why they hadn¡¯t been harried by some sort of scouting force these past few months at the very least. Were he in the good graces of the Second Prince, he would have advised they do so. So what was Knight Gawain waiting for?


    everything ¨C that both Ganymede and Bayamon lacked, Mordred had at his finger tips. By far, his was the greatest advantage out of all three brothers, and yet he seemed to do nothing with it. It was maddening to Gilford! He had no doubt that, at the very least, some of their movements had been spied on by bloodlings and were being reported back. They had to know where they were, at least relatively speaking. If Mordred wanted to he could march on them and there¡¯d be nothing they could do to stop the oncoming end!


    Why had he not done so already? What was the angle? What was the advantage of holding back?


    Advantage


    real


    discipline


    youthat¡¯sYou¡¯re


    AnansiFocus


    traipsingthwack!


    hadpersonally


    Aimi


    duty


    duty

 Chapter 15

    now


    force


    My daughterdeafLucifer


    deserves


    youexactly


    myself


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    know


    his time. ¡°But I know each and every one of you, ningen and bloodling alike, and I think you all have the right to know what it is we¡¯re headed towards in pursuit of! You¡¯re putting your lives on the line. You deserve to know what for¡­¡±


    Real monsters, the stuff of your childhood nightmares¡­


    nothing more worth doing with your lives than this! Nothing! We sail forth now towards a citadel of shadow beyond a forest of glass, ten days hence from here, where we will give our lives if necessary in order to end the stain that is the oleum from the face of this world! Those of you standing with me today can call yourselves heroes! Your names will be remembered for all eternities by the deeds you put forth on this expedition! And if we survive and succeed in burning away any trace of corruptive filth in our paths, know that we will be saving more than just Mirage, but every ningen, bloodling, arbora, and animunculi on the face of this planet from a possible oblivion!¡±


    FORWARD!¡±