《Steam&#x27;s Shadow》


 Chapter 1: Silver badge

    Before the chapter starts, I would like to mention that I am a new writer and your input means much to me, so if you could write me what you liked and disliked and for what reasons that would help!

    So without further ado enjoy!

    Edit: This story acts as a documentation of my writing, thus the first few chapters might not be that great, compared to more recent ones.

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    What if humanity had not advanced as fast as they have, what if we had been living in an age where steam and gas was the main source of power, running through tubes to move pistons and shafts and other mechanisms ?

    Welcome to Earth with streets of brass pipes, and metal tubes which carry the source of power of this time and age. Steam and gas was used throughout the entire infrastructure of cities and for many mechanical contraptions. However with this simple source of power came its problems and many crimes, which is why a certain young man decided to take care of these troubles within the shady underground of this world.

    It is a beautiful day, sun is shining, birds are singing, butterflies are fluttering and among those peaceful sounds is also the noise of a certain steam train heading for the city of Brinston which lies in the country of the Gray Kingdom.

    Within the train are several passengers, among them are our two protagonists and another person who is being transferred. It consists of 5 parts, up front is the locomotive and then there are four wagons, the fourth being the last one far in the back.

    Our protagonists are in the third wagon, sitting near the door to the second wagon.

    Aaron:" Sir, could you explain to me again why we are heading to Brinston?"

    He says as he kempt back his short black hair.

    John who is looking at the landscape through the train window :"We are travelling there for new blazestones. I have some ideas for improvements on my contraptions but I require more of them."

    Aaron pulls out an orange of his jacket together with a knife and begins peeling it:" Aha, do you really think someone like you should be spending his time tinkering around? I mean you have duties to follow don''t you?"

    Still looking out the window, :" I can take a few days off once in a while, and besides, this "tinkering" as you call it is pretty important as you know." John says as he pats on his waist hinting to what is below his brown, cloth coat.

    Finished with peeling the orange Aaron offered it to his partner, who took a glance at it, and looked away immediately with a disgusted expression. :" You know, I will agree that your toy is pretty useful, but as is eating healthy food."

    He then looks at Aaron annoyed:" You know I hate green stuff, it''s disgusting."

    "Oranges are not green... they are orange... and it doesn''t matter if it is disgusting or not you should still---" Aaron was interrupted as a faint shooting sound could be heard.

    ~What happened in the meantime inside the last wagon~

    A muscular, rough looking man who sat on a chair with his hands tied up, was kept under guard by three policemen. Two of them are aiming at the man with steam rifles, their faces covered in sweat. The third one, who appears to only have a rapier at his waist, stood in front of the wagon door leading to the third wagon.

    While looking down upon the tied up man, the third Policeman at the door states :" So then, not much longer and we will be at Brinston to transfer you. Then you can finally be punished for your murders, Iron-fist Gregor."

    "Hah, we will see." The man responds and then looks at the two other guards. :" Hey you there brat! How old are you? Are you not a little too young to be at the police?" He asks, and one of the guards answers in a very intimidated voice :" I-I uhm... I''m 19, I''ve been part of the police since two weeks ago.""Two weeks! Hah, alright then, I guess then you probably don''t even have what it takes yet to pull the trigger of that weapon in your hands." He teasingly replies to the guards, scaring them further.

    One of the guards dropped his rifle in his fearful shiver. Gregor took the opportunity, stood up and rammed the other guard against the wall, knocking him out. The other guard was in shock and didn''t know what to do and dropped his rifle backing up against the wagon wall, in panic. Meanwhile the third guard ran out of the wagon door, fearing for his own life since he believed himself to be at a disadvantage. The second guard, who was at the wall then began to beg :"Please spare my life! I beg of you please! Please don''t ki---" Before he got to finish his pleads he was also knocked out by a powerful jab into the guts since Gregor had broken the ties on his wrists throughout the short monologue. Afterwards he took a steam rifle and other weapons from the guards before he shot them.

    ~Back in the third wagon~

    John and Aaron are silent trying to figure out what just happened, and are then surprised as the wagon door connecting the third and fourth opened up with the policeman who fled. :" Please anyone, you have to help us, a convict who was transferred by this train has broke free and overpowered our guards! Please you must help us!" The policeman shouts half crying in desperation.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The people in the wagon then quickly run towards the door leading to the second wagon in complete panic, screaming and yelling.

    John meanwhile whispers to his partner :" You go with them, I will go deal with this situation here, try to calm those morons down a bit, can''t have them do something brainless now can we?"

    "Are you sure you will be fine? After all we are in the middle of a wagon with only a few square meters of room to fight." Aaron worries, while placing his hand on his friends shoulder.

    "Don''t worry I will be fine, besides you can''t fight so you are better off staying safe so you can treat me later." He implied in a sarcastic voice.

    Aaron shook his head and went towards the wagon door and then turned his head around to face John wishing him good luck while he thinks :"I just hope he will be fine."

    The policeman at the other wagon door is now even more scared than before :" Is there nobody who wants to help? Is everyone running away?"

    "Hey now! I am still here, so stop being so upset!" John responds in a self confident voice while scratching the back of his head.

    "What can a kid like you do? You look like you are barely 18!" The policeman rants.

    "How about instead of being such a jerk, you move away from the door, since whoever is on the other side will try to get through."

    "Have some respect towards your seniors ~" The policeman says as a shot came through the door grazing his shoulder. He curls up on the floor screaming and yelling in pain.

    Immediately afterwards the door opened up and a ball rolled down the wagon into the middle.

    "Huh? Oh crap! Get behind a seat and duck!" John shouts but it was too late, gas began rushing out of the ball, flowing upwards and after it had filled the room it ignited, blowing up the wagon walls and roof, only leaving charred seats and the floor in shallow flames.

    "Hey are you alright mate?" John screams desperately. :" Can you hear me?" he yells.

    "Hmm it seems I missed someone, well I can deal with that." The man, armed with a steam rifle, said as he came through the door.

    John then stood up and stepped into the middle path of the Wagon with and angry look in his eyes as he wipes off the ashes from his face with his left hand. Due to the trains speed and the open air wagon, his coat was fluttering revealing a sword sheath on his waist, and his tied back hair was pulled out of his coat by the air current as well.

    "Long tied back brown-blonde hair, a brown coat, a sword on his belt and is that..." Gregor took a better glance at Johns coat :" Is that? A silver badge! The badge of approval for high ranking executive. A sterling silver badge, then you must be... the Private Detective Johnathan Sterling!" He shouted in excitement before he began rubbing his hands.

    With a surprised look in his face, John grinned :"Seems like I have been found out. Oh well I guess that makes things a little quicker, now that you know who I am, would you like to surrender and spare us the trouble?"

    "Surrender? Never! Look here! I have a steam rifle from those nice guards back there, they were nice enough to simply hand them over... after I knocked them out. Anyways! You could never beat me now!" He claims in confidence as he lifts the steam rifle and aims at Johns head.

    Meanwhile John is seemingly disappointed :"Oh yay!... Another idiot who thinks just because he can fight at range that he can beat me. Fine let me prove you wrong!" He then drew his sword from the sheath at his waist and held it in front of him with both his hands. The sword had only a single blade facing the floor, while the tip was pointed at Gregor, tubes coming out from the swords bottom of the hilt, connecting to something on his back, beneath his coat.

    He took a long leap towards Gregor, who in turn due to the tension used the steam rifle, releasing the pressurized steam which shot a bullet. Anticipating the reaction, John presses a button on the hilt which caused pressurized steam to be released from the back, blunt side of the long sword which had small holes carved in through which the steam was released, thus pulling John downwards just enough to barely dodge the bullet. Caught by surprise, Gregor stepped back, but John who then turned the blade at an upwards angle, pressed the button repulsing the sword which cut straight through his right arm near the shoulder.

    "Damn you Sterling!" Gregor screams in pain as he falls to the ground holding his bleeding shoulder. "You cut off my arm! What kind of executive member does that?!"

    "Aww, don''t cry Mr. I just killed two policemen and blew up another one, while threatening a train. A medic will treat your wound soon enough." John smirks, trying to play with the defeated enemy who then laid down moaning in agony.

    "What have you done John! You cut off his arm! I need to quickly treat him before he dies of loosing too much blood." Aaron yells, just coming through the door running towards Gregor. He pulls out a small med-kit from his jacket and stabs the patient with a syringe while he was too busy with the pain, causing him to fall unconscious.

    "What did you just give that man?" John asks, in awe of the magic that happened.

    "I gave him a tranquilizer strong enough to put even an elephant to slumber, so I can treat him without him screaming and shouting." Aaron explains.

    A while later they arrived at Brinston, the police was already awaiting the transfer of the serial killer called Iron-fist Gregor but they were surprised seeing him in this bad of a shape, in company of the Sterling detective instead of the guards that were meant to be with him. After carefully explaining what had happened, the police Officer in charge thanked them for their hard work.

    "I don''t need your thanks! Had you put more guards with him then this kind of disaster wouldn''t have happened! Nobody would have died and no passengers would have been in danger! Damn you people tick me off!" John had enough and walked away with loud steps towards the central part of Brinston, meanwhile Aaron bowed towards the Officer and explained:" Please excuse him, he is just tired and upset by this horrible situation, please take better care of your criminals next time." Afterwards he rushed back to Johns side.

    "I hate the state for their stupid carelessness, what if I had not been there? Then the people would''ve ended up as collateral and a serial killer would be free again," John mumbles.

    "Well that is why you became a private detective right? You went ahead and obtained your executive license, the sterling badge which is one of the most high ranking licenses, for that reason right?" Aaron wonders.

    "Not quite true, I became a detective for more than that, but besides that, this badge is also like a lock that ties me down. I may have authority but there are also people who have authority over me." John explains as they head towards the Brinston main town.

    What further troubles await the young men in Brinston and what more mysteries lie behind Johns past ? Find out in the next Chapter of Steam''s Shadow!

 Chapter 2: Mansion case part 1 of 2

    After the train incident, Aaron and John were exhausted and it started to get late, so instead of going to the mines that day, they decided to stay at a mansion inn. When they entered the Office, they were supposed to pay an unthinkably high price for the rooms, however the blonde detective was apparently already well known by the house Lord who had then decided to let them stay the night for free in separate rooms.

    As they went inside the mansion, they were overwhelmed by the size of the entrance which was beautifully decorated by brass pipes, many trophies and statues of small angels and the like. The lord then arrived with two young people. One was a young woman in a maid outfit with long brown hair. She greeted them with a bow as she held a large silver platter with drinks on it. The other one was a young man with short, very shiny black hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a butler suit and offered to take their luggage to their rooms as the lord lead them to the main hall, which was next to the kitchen and was the main meeting place for all guests to be entertained.

    "This is huge! I don''t think that my house is even anywhere near as big as this hall alone." Johnathan said, astonished as he looked into the hall. Several people, rich looking people, sat around drinking and laughing within this big white hall with large tables on which lie several food plates, from steak, to chicken legs, to salads, to beverage.

    "Indeed, it''s like about two hundred by hundred meters for a dining hall, just imagine how many homes would fit in it." Aaron said whilst taking a good look around and taking an interest in the interior design.

    "Say, what do you believe are these brass pipes throughout this mansion used for?"

    "Well, besides aesthetic reasons? I guess they are also part of the water and gas network of this mansion."

    "Indeed," the Lord of the house overheard their little conversation.

    "It''s part of this mansions water and gas supply, as you can imagine this building has many rooms, among them a kitchen and several bathrooms for the guest rooms as well as several heating systems to keep it warm inside."

    The two then decided to sit down, far away from the crowd at a corner table to discuss their plans for the next day. At first they started talking about how they wanted to get to the Brinston mines but quickly strayed off the topic and began to talk about the people inside the hall. They talked about a pair standing on a podium, apparently acting comedy to entertain the crowd, they seemed to be accompanied by two elderly people. At another table three men were talking and drinking together. Meanwhile they also every now and then, saw the two servants running in and out of the kitchen bringing refreshments.

    Pretty quickly the two got bored and annoyed by the people and decided to go to their rooms, which were on the second floor, and call it a day.

    As Aaron was just about to unpack his luggage to change into his pyjamas he remembered that he and John hadn''t talked about their departing time for the next day.

    He rushed over to Johns room and knocked on the door.

    After several knocks, there was no answer but he noticed that the door was slightly open, thus he went inside only to find the bedroom in a mess with Johns clothes all over the place and his coat laying on the bed.

    After he had a quick look around he thought, "John... you are such a messy idiot. You haven''t even been in this room for a day and it already looks like a bomb raid came by." He walked toward the bathroom door as he could hear a metallic sound as well as a loud noise coming from inside, he knocked on the door yelling. "John are you there?"

    No Reply, only the loud noise became more intense.

    He lightly opened the door and noticed steam rushing out and the sound of splashing could be heard clearly now. Worried whether something might have happened to John, seeing as how he never replied, he pulled open the door rapidly and shouted. "John! Are you alright?"

    Inside Aaron saw a silhouette beneath the steam clouds which cloaked the vision but not long after he opened the door the steam went away and he could see the back of a man with a great burn scar running from the left shoulder down and around the hip.

    "Aaron? What are you doing in here?"

    Finally the steam had nearly completely lifted and the man standing there was John, with only his pants on, apparently waiting for the bath to fill up with hot water.

    He turned around, revealing the rest of the scar spread upon his stomach.

    "I''m sorry Aaron," he said as he saw his face surprised and in shock.

    Aaron turned around and had to lean on the door for support since his stomach began to hurt from the sight of the scar, he couldn''t fathom to imagine the pain and procedure which had left him like that. "Since when did you have it? The scar I mean... ," he mumbled.

    "That is a long story, let me tell you one other day, the bath is almost ready and it''s getting late anyway... . Oh by the way, why did you come inside?"

    John wondered as he grabbed his shirt to cover up the scar but Aaron couldn''t bare the sight any longer and went to the other side of the door and almost closed it, he left it open enough to talk through but was also disgusted by himself, "I should be ashamed, I am his best friend and yet I can''t even look at him. I have seen many open bodies and operated on many so then why am I trembling at the sight of his burn?"

    He shook his head and finally answered, "I wanted to ask at what time you want us to depart tomorrow?"

    "Is that all? Well I don''t mind, maybe at around 8am?" John answered.

    Aaron then went back to his room and went to sleep in his disappointment, meanwhile John took his bath and when he was finished he entered his bedroom.

    "What the...? Did Aaron do this?"

    John looked at his room in confusion, it was in a complete mess, he hadn''t taken more out than a towel and yet his luggage was all over the floor and bed.

    Believing that Aaron must''ve been looking for something he cleaned it up and went to bed.

    Several hours later, at 7 am, a loud high pitched scream of fear shot throughout the mansion like a bullet. The sound came from the second floor, nearby our protagonists rooms.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    It was still early in the morning but the two didn''t waste any time getting to the scene, unlike Aaron however, John wanted to equip his sword just in case, whilst the former merely put on some pants and grabbed a small bag with a red cross on it.

    John was the fastest to arrive at the scene since his room was right around the corner whereas Aaron''s was further away. He saw an open door and in front of it was the maid, she was sitting on the floor crying, pressing her hands at her face, next to her was a mop and a bucket. Wondering what happened he rushed to her and asked just that.

    However as he stood next to her, in front of the open door, he caught a glimpse at what was inside the room. His tired eyes opened up widely and he then turned around, facing inside. On the floor he could see a small pool of blood and laying in it was a man. He looked like he was about fifty years old, as his clothes soaked in dark red.

    "Mr. Balter is dead!", the young woman on the floor shouted with a clogged up nose,"I just wanted to clean this floor but when I noticed the open door and peaked inside I...," she continued to cry but John already knew what she wanted to say.

    He also knew he couldn''t wait for Aaron to finally hurry up and get here, so he quickly hushed over to the body and kneed down next to the man. He did not know a lot about biology, seeing as how his biology exam to become a detective ended up being only ten out of a hundred percent, but he remembered Aaron once telling him how to confirm whether or not someone was dead. He shortly closed his eyes to remember and then after doing so he pushed his fingers on the bloody throat of the man to try and notice a pulse, but after he noticed nothing, Aaron had arrived.

    "John! What happened?" He immediately knew the urgency and hurried over to John sitting down next to the body and looked at the blonde detective as if to ask whether the man was dead or not.

    John nodded in confirmation. "Yes he''s dead alright," he said and then looked at the throat noticing a stab wound in it and thus asked his friend. "Can you make out what the---" He was then interrupted by a young man entering the room.

    "What was the scream for?" The man coming in was the young servant of the mansion who had come to see what the loud scream, of his fellow college, was all about. John looked at him and determined him to be too young to see this cruelty and also noticed a disgusted, or maybe even an angry look in the kids eyes.

    "You! Get out! This is a crime scene, a man has been found dead," John yelled and showed his nice and shiny badge on his chest which was just a silver bead in the size of the average coin, "do you understand? I am a detective and am currently investigating this place. Now get out and inform the other guests to collect in the main hall of the first floor!" He was annoyed, he hated it when people arrived so soon to a death scene, because he would have to suspect him especially now due to the old ''the culprit comes back to the crime scene'' rule.

    Afterwards the young man stepped back slowly, helped the maid to stand up and ran off to collect the guests.

    Then Aaron replied to the question which John was about to tell him, as he leaned over to take a better look at the throat. "This wound, it looks like it could have been from a very slick arrowhead, or even a knife. To be honest anything that is capable to stabbing would fit. However it appears to be a clean stab."

    After attempting to think of what Aaron meant by that he looked at him with confused eyes.

    "Clean meaning, the stab must have been made with something very sharp as it doesn''t appear to have ripped through the flesh. Come on John, you as a swordsman should know such things." Aaron pointed out in a disappointed sigh whilst John just scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

    After they were done with the inspection of the body, they covered it up and left the room, unable to close it from the outside however, they just had to trust that nobody would enter.

    They went into the main hall to begin the interrogation but were immediately stared down by many lurking eyes who appeared to have had a short night and who still looked dead tired.

    "What is this commotion about? We are supposed to take part in the theatre, in a few hours." A young man, sitting on the couch, with short ginger hair says as he holds a young and pretty woman, with blonde curly hair, in his arms.

    "Yes we have to take part in the rehearsal. We can''t just stay here," she says, clinging to him.

    "Well, I am sorry to say but you will all have to stay here for a while. A man has been found dead and it''s an obvious murder. We can''t afford to let anyone out of sight and we will start questioning you soon," as he said these words the atmosphere in the room changed drastically, they knew they would be suspected and had to now be very careful about their word choice. John felt squished beneath the pressure of their stares but was also annoyed due to his plans being ruined now. Meanwhile Aaron grabbed the Lord of the house and asked him to help him carry the body into the cellar since the body would otherwise start to decompose rather quickly.

    "Alright then everyone please sit down, I will begin from the far right and ask everyone so please be ready to answer." John claimed as he himself also dragged by a small stool and sat down, crossing his legs as he grabs a note book from his pocket together with a pen.

    He had to question twenty people, at about half of it the house Lord eventually came back from helping Aaron carry the corpse but the later had continued his look around the mansion, mainly the kitchen.

    As John eventually finished the interrogation, Aaron got back in time and they went to the crime scene room on the second floor to investigate the room further and to talk about the suspects.

    "So then, anything out of the ordinary among them?" Aaron asked as he entered the room after John, leaving the door wide open to imagine the crime better.

    "Well then," John starts as he knees down at the spot the corpse was once at. "We have a young pair of actors, who seem weird, especially the girl being so clingy on him... . Besides them there is also an old, bald man who appears to have had a drinking night with the Lord and the victim from 9pm to 6am meaning the murder must have happened not too long after they went to bed."

    "I see, what about the servants then?" Aaron wondered, seeing as how they were the first near the victim.

    "The servants? Well it seems the maid served those three men and after they went to bed, she went to clean the mansion. Meanwhile the male servant was busy treating an elderly couple and the actor pair with beverage and food until 4am." John said beginning to mumble towards the end of the sentence noticing something on the floor.

    Meanwhile Aaron also told John about how he had not found anything out of the ordinary in the kitchen.

    "What is this?" The young detective wonders, as he is being irritated by some shiny object on the ground, near the door. He carefully moves towards this and finds a few very white hair strands. "Hair? But why are these here?"

    His partner then takes a look at them and points out, "maybe they are from a former guest?" However the blonde man quickly replies, "no I can''t see the maid being that sloppy, I believe these might be from the culprit," as he stares at them whilst scratching his neck.

    "White hair... well anyone old enough would fit that description." Aaron claimed.

    "Not quite," he mumbled. "There weren''t many old people there, among them only an elderly pair with grey hair and the Lord of the house, who also had grey hair. Nobody had such a snow white colour." Then he remembers something from cleaning his room the night before, as he cleaned he found another, just as white, strand of hair on his luggage.

    "Wait," he quickly checked his notes to compare the alibis and then noticed something. "I know now, or at least I think---"

    "You know who it was? What is your proof?" Aaron swiftly interrupts but saw his friends annoyed face, since he had already been interrupted too often today.

    "I don''t have my proof... yet, but judging by these alibis and the hairs then I almost certainly believe it was..."

    John stopped talking as he heard footsteps coming from near the door and as soon as he took a glimpse and notices a shallow dark motion, rapidly passing the door. Just as the young man was about to stand up and ask who had dared to come up here, the door was smacked shut.

    Who is the murderer and who shut the door? Find out this and much more in the next Chapter of Steam''s Shadow!

 Chapter 3: Mansion case part 2 of 2

    Previously, our protagonists John and Aaron were involved in a fight on a train to Brinston, a small town with many mines, to buy certain stones. Wanting to rest after the difficulties, in a mansion inn, they were involved in a murder case. After John had finally come to figure out who the murderer was, the two young men were locked inside the room of the deceased.

    "Mr. Sterling, I am afraid that this is as far as you go," a silent but familiar voice rang from the other side of the door. "My apologies, but I will have to make sure your thoughts will forever stay with you."

    A metallic scratching sound could be heard from the other side of the door and right afterwards a sizzling became noticeable. From beneath the door a small flexible pipe was inserted from which a white-gray cloud had arisen.

    Aaron wanted to open up the windows, but the gaseous substance filled up the room quickly, blocking the way to the windows, forcing them to squeeze in a corner.

    John was debating what this gas was, since he had a plan in mind but didn''t want it to be explosive or poisonous, however Aaron looked at the glass panes and pointed at them with his finger.

    "That''s!" The blonde haired detective mumbled and drew his sword.

    "Stay here and wait for it to vanish, I will go hunt down that prick!"

    "Wait John you know what this is right? You are going to get hurt!"

    His friend grinned and let out a faint laugh. "It''s not that high yet. Plus I have an idea."

    His black haired partner looked at him with confusion, not being used to John using his head, or rather having a plan.

    The detective stepped forward and weaved his sword, from the left to the right and back and forth, and quickly increased the speed of his swing. The sword cut through the air and the current, created by it, pulled the white gas aside, creating a narrow path for John to take. He continued towards the door and smashed it in with two steam propulsion cuts. Per button press, high pressure steam from a tank was allowed to flow through the tube system on the back of the sword. The pressure released though holes within the tubes would thrust the blade with high speed and force.

    As he broke through the door the tube beneath it was no longer held in place and started flailing around releasing a cloud of gas. By looking at the flexible pipe he noticed that the pipes, built into the walls of the mansion were tapped, to be specific the steam heating pipe. He figured out before that the gas was steam, due to the condensation water on the glass panes before.

    Behind the cloud of steam John saw a dark shadow of a person, he could hear a disappointed sigh but the flailing of the tube together with the sound of steam rushing out, made it difficult to confirm.

    "Hey you! Stay there! You are arrested!" John yelled, trying to be heard over the other sounds, however the person on the other side of the cloud didn''t think of coming with the detective. Loud running steps could be heard as the shadow became smaller.

    "Damn it! Of course he wouldn''t just stay... Aaron please wait here until the steam stops running, it shouldn''t take much longer until the tank is empty."

    Despite knowing that John would be safe, Aaron didn''t like the idea of just being left behind.

    "Fine... Go on ahead, I will run to the police station and get you backup!" He yelled through the room, after which his friend cut through the steam cloud to pursue the suspect.

    The chase went on through the hallway on the second floor, all he could see was the back of a black cloak made of rugged cloth covering the entire body. Noticing how long the hallway actually is, John began to doubt his ability to continue the pursue, since he didn''t have any breakfast yet and felt his stamina quickly running low.

    Eventually they reached the end of a corner in the hallway, they went in a circle since he could make out the outlines of the railing bordering off the second floors stairway with the first floor. The cloaked person was much faster than he was, thus he was the first to reach the end of the hallway. However instead of taking the stairs the person jumped off the railing by supporting himself with one arm and doing a salto midair.

    This sight made John stop for a moment, catching his breath as he raised his right eyebrow and thinking to himself. "Wha... That wasn''t half bad..."

    Having confidence that he could do that too, he jumped holding his sword ready, but wasn''t able to do a salto and just fell straight down.

    Meanwhile the cloaked man turned around as his pursuer had just jumped off of the railing. He held out his right hand, with a black glove and a metal box on the back of the hand. As he was facing the spot where John would land, while at first his fingers were stretched out he quickly formed a fist, suddenly a familiar whistle reached John''s ears making him weary of what would soon happen. With the whistle, three long blades protracted from the metal box creating what represented claws.

    Nearly before John landed, the person ran swiftly towards him and a high pitched hiss sounded and out of three thruster like parts on the end opposite to the blades, pressurized steam shot out creating a strong propulsion as he attacked John who was just about to touch ground. The increased speed and thus power of the strike pushed the detective back, who was barely able to block the attack with his sword.

    The young man, with his sterling silver badge on his coat, let out a slight noise of pain. This rough fall strained his right leg, thus he knew that he had to change to a more defensive fighting style. He held his sword protectively horizontally, blade facing down, in front of him.

    The clawed enemy however noticed his opportunity and followed up with an attack of the now protracted left hand claws, again using steam propulsion. Now knowing the power of the strike, John skilfully used the force of the claws against him by slightly touching them with his sword, thus redirecting them, allowing the swordsman to face the blade towards the person and did a swift cut using his own steam propulsion system. However the enemy was able to dodge fast enough to prevent taking physical damage but despite that, John achieved his goal.

    The cloak was cut through, letting it drop down revealing the person below in an armless shirt, wearing black, baggy, cotton trousers and cloth shoes. Seeing the shiny black hair made John smirk.

    "So it really was you, huh? ...Mr. Servant?"

    Indeed before him stood the very young looking servant of the household, with his black, glossy hair, brown eyes and pale skin.

    Retracting the claws, the black haired boy shrugged his, athletic shoulders.

    "My, good work figuring it out. I tried to leave you as good as no clues and the few clues you have should be the alibis. However instead of the maid, you somehow knew it was me... How?"

    "Well, I wasn''t completely sure back then, but you confirmed my idea. Especially now that the ceiling light is right above you."

    The boy confusedly looked up and saw the gas lamp chandelier hanging above him and then looked at John again, with a clueless expression.

    "I don''t understand what you mean."

    "I mean the glossy shine of your hair... I noticed it a while ago, but I didn''t think much of it. However, no hair I have ever seen can create such a bright shine and I remembered it when I found those white hairs in the room of the victim."

    "Oh, I see now. Hmm I must have not been careful enough. Well I guess I can get rid of this thing now."

    As the boy finished his sentence, he pulled at his hair with his right hand, dragging it off his head, revealing the unkempt, snow white hair underneath. John''s eyes opened wide, he thought of this outcome but actually seeing it surprised him.

    "While we are at it, I might as well remove these as well."

    Using his left hand the poked at his eyes, pulling off something which John could barely see. After he did that, he faced his enemy with his eyes closed, and quickly opened them, blinking a little since his eyes were still irritated.

    "What the! Those are... You are... an albino?"

    White hair, pale skin and the crimson red eyes of the boy even reached beyond his imagination. He never thought that the killer would be an albino.

    They are rare, and usually also referred to as demons or children of misfortune due to their looks. Some even used them as attractions on circuses, treating them like animals. This cruel behaviour of society scarred their lives forever. John knew this from old stories at the orphanage but he never imagined to see one in person.

    "Indeed, I am an albino. Go ahead, curse me all you want, it won''t change me."

    While the boy made fun of himself with a grin on his face, John just had a sad look, caught in thoughts.

    "Why... why would he kill someone. What happened to make him do that. And why does he fight... I don''t understand..."

    He then translated his thoughts into words calling out to the red eyed killer.

    "Why? What was your reason for killing that man? Tell me..."

    John did not understand his feelings, he knew he shouldn''t care but something within him made him want to dig deeper into the past of the child. However this feeling wasn''t shared by the actual receiver who looked angrily as he heard the question.

    "Why would you care, huh? I am a killer and you are my enemy, so mind your own business and fight me!"

    With that statement, he protracted the claws immediately and rushed at John, who was still deep in thought but just before the actual attack, he was able to defend the strike from the right. The boy grinned, and used steam propulsion on his left claw, having noticed that his enemy just left himself wide open.

    He tried to dodge the attack by stepping back but the pain in his right leg made him tilt sideways. Due to that, surprisingly he was able to avoid fatal damage to his arm, but the claw grazed and slightly cut into his right shoulder.

    With a high pitched whistle, the sword cut towards the clawed kid. Despite having had the chance to land a lethal blow, he chose to merely create a gap between them, forcing the boy to back up.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    "Tell me why, why do you fight?"

    John spoke without thinking, he had no more control over his mind. He believed to already know the answer, but wanted to know if he was right, having a strong sense to seek confirmation.

    The crimson eyed fighter got annoyed and irritated by that question and yelled.

    "If you really want to know, then come follow me, I believe many people deserve this answer."

    Retracting his claws, he fled towards the main hall, where the guests were supposed to wait at.

    "Wait up! Argh..." The swordsman wanted to run after him, but his leg didn''t share that thought, making him have to limp over to the hall.

    The door was left open by the young kid allowing John to simply walk, or rather limp inside. As he expected, everyone was scared so they distanced themselves from the pale boy in the middle of the hall, who was waiting for John to enter. Everyone was already mumbling and whispering amongst each other, talking about the killer behind his back.

    He stood there, in the middle of the room, with his crimson red eyes looking like they were glowing in anger, however this was just John''s imagination, since in reality it was just the bright lighting of the room.

    "Since you asked so many times, I might as well tell you. However, I don''t just have to tell you, because I can show you too!"

    He held his hand out, referring to the people in the room. As he spoke, the voice made the people recognize his identity but instead of speaking out, they just kept whispering among themselves.

    "To answer your question, I will have to tell you a pretty long story, however I''ll try to keep it short."

    As he began his speech, John rested against the wall, trying to make the pain in his leg go away, whilst also holding his shoulder which was cut in the earlier attack.

    "Ever since I could remember, my parents were religious so my existence was like a contradiction for them. Demon child, they called me, Child of Misfortune, they called me... they cursed me for my hideous looks, and because of that they sent me to an orphanage, just dropping me off as a small child..."

    This reminded John of his own past, just that he never knew his parents, as his eyes sunk to the ground just imagining the situation, the feeling of being neglected by your very own parents.

    "The orphanage was great, they treated me as their equal, no special treatment at all. The nuns were even nice enough to teach all of us some elementary school knowledge. We were like a happy little family. However..."

    He couldn''t tell for certain, but John saw tears building up in the boys eyes. In order to not show his weakness he closed them and shook his head, continuing his explanation.

    "The orphanage didn''t have much support. In fact there was only one man, a jewellery trader, who sponsored us. However he eventually decided that we cost too much and thus cut the communication. My family, my new home in which I was finally treated like a human being... it all went to ruins. We were forced to become street thieves to survive but the sickness took most of us. Eventually the few survivors split up, having obtained the chance to change their lives. I was taught by a clock engineer, and worked as his assistant for a while until that man, that damned man showed up... He ordered a clock, with inset jewels, which he would provide. I couldn''t believe it, he who had forsaken us because we weren''t worth it... he ordered a clock with jewels?"

    He formed a fist and smashed it onto a nearby table, however the claws seemed to have extended. Through this outbreak, the whispering and mumbling throughout the room stopped. It was dead silent, one could only hear the heavy breathing of the young boy.

    "I wanted him to pay, not with money, but with his life. Because of him... my family died, my home was gone. All because he preferred to spend his money on living rich rather than sharing with the poor. I already knew the basics of engineering and steamworks from the master at the clock shop, so it was easy for me to build this."

    He held up his right hand with the extended claws, by holding it so high up John was able to notice a small pipe running from the Claws mechanical box, towards the persons hip. On both sides were big round objects, wrapped in black cloth.

    "Even the master couldn''t bare to look at me, so he bought me this cheap wig and these eye contacts. Not even the man who was willing to teach me, was able to look at my true face. Soon I left the place and did research on the man who was responsible for all this and I found out that he comes here every so often for a business trip. So I decided to work here as a servant. Obviously I had to cover my true identity with the wig and contacts, but as cursed as I may be, I never expected to be hated so much by my fate. It was typical that, on the one day I wanted to take my revenge, you had to show up with your friend. Of course it had to be you, the great detective Sterling."

    "But even though you knew I was here, you didn''t change your plan?"

    A thought was accidentally spoken out, by the young man leaning against the wall.

    "I had nothing to lose, I don''t care if you kill me or arrest me. I honestly don''t."

    John lifted his head and spoke in a lecturing way.

    "You may say so, but I doubt you will actually behave that way."

    Those words were like fuel on a small fire for the boy. He stood straight and walked over to John with his eyes drilling right through him. The light steps, sounded like the splashing of water drops falling into a pond.

    "You have no idea of how much I had to go through, you would never be able to know my pain...," the grinding of his teeth made John weary, preparing to defend himself. "You are a detective, on top of that the youngest detective in this country! Somebody like you could never comprehend my pain, so stop lecturing me already!"

    "You are right, I can''t possibly know your pain. But I know my pain, and I can imagine how much more of it you must have felt. I may not know, but I can at least understand..."

    Having stopped moving, the red eyes stared at John''s dark green eyes with a confused look. At that moment, Aaron entered the room but stood there silently, feeling the tension of the situation. John noticed him, and also knew that he had likely already asked the police for backup.

    "I too was an orphan but unlike you, I never knew my parents. However I didn''t need them, my new family consisted of the people there, and our father took care of us. He was a religious father, and also quite the old geezer, it has been so long I don''t even remember his age anymore. Anyway, some day a certain group of people came and tried to take him away from us. However he fought to continue protecting us and was.... he was..."

    Down his eyes, a singular tear ran down his cheeks, falling to the ground. After wiping his face off, he continued.

    "He was killed.... From that point on, my life was a life on the streets. However, life is too kind to use, it was more like a constant fight against famine. Eventually most of them... left me and a kind mechanic scratched me off the streets and taught me everything I needed to know to build this sword."

    "So then you are like me, you built that sword to take revenge for that father."

    "No, I didn''t. Well, actually, the thought did cross my mind at first. But you see, our father was a detective in his prime. So his voice rang through my head, telling me that revenge just brings more suffering. He had told us many of his stories as bedtime stories, and sometimes they consisted of some unfortunate person falling for revenge. Revenge is no pretty thing, you become the thing you worked so hard for to destroy making it a contradiction in itself, so instead I decided I want to find the one responsible and give him his rightful punishment."

    Aaron could not believe what he heard, he had been with John for a few months now, but he never got to know about his past. And just now, per chance, he heard a story which he wished that he would never have heard.

    "I want to put him to jail and by doing it the same way as father would have done it. That is why I became a detective, it was difficult and I still can barely believe I achieved my first goal."

    "Shut...up...., Shut up, Shut up!"

    The boy yelled loudly in anger as he was seemingly fighting with his emotions, realizing that he may have done a mistake but by shaking his head, with his unkempt, white hair, he began getting closer to John again. Protracting his claws, he looked into his opponents face, as if to etch the image into his mind.

    Making a sudden move, he struck at John who parried the attack but the rapid barrage of attacks did not stop that quickly. Clashing blades and the hissing sound of steam echoed throughout the large hall.

    Despite having so much room, John was still facing with his back to the wall and was slowly pushed into a position where he would find himself unable to have free movement. Knowing he needed more space, he tried to wait for an opening in order to make a swift step around his enemy, however his leg still was not healed, and the cut on his shoulder was unable to close due to the constant movement, causing some blood to run down his arm.

    He was close to reaching the wall, but finally noticed an opening. The attacks were mainly focused towards his right side, because the kid wanted to give him no time to rest his leg. He parried one strike, and two strikes which where both aimed at his right, allowing John to step left and quickly turn behind the claw fighter. His leg could not withstand this sudden movement however and the pain increased.

    "Why do you still fight like this? You should be stronger than that, and yet you still decide to not oppose me...Why?"

    He starts getting teary, shiny eyes which is a sign for John, that this child isn''t just a killer, he has feelings, feelings of regret.

    "Why?!"

    He shouts and keeps up the barrage of attacks which have become more difficult to defend, or rather his wounded opponent has started to have difficulties blocking them. He was merely able to redirect them, but the strikes still cut into his shoulders, legs, and waist, with each hit making it more and more painful to move.

    Eventually the white haired boy was exhausted and just stood still, trying to catch his breath. Meanwhile John stuck his sword into the floor to lean onto it. If someone looked at him, with his torn clothing and cuts all over his body with his blood stained clothes, they would think that he fought some wild animal..

    "Why...why do you still refuse to fight?"

    From his watery red eyes, tears began to flow down his pale cheeks, running past his quivering lips and finally dropping down, tear by tear onto the floor.

    "It''s because I understand your rage, your hatred and your pain but I cannot forgive you for your actions. Nobody can, nobody besides you... I will keep this up until you finally understand yourself. And if I should die, well... I guess I was wrong, but at least I know someone up there who would be proud of my attempt..."

    With the small strength he had left, John answered the question as he stared into the boys crying eyes. Aaron however, who was watching and waited for the police to arrive, was confused but also proud. He usually only saw his partner cut away at his enemies but it was different this time. He saw his usually impulsive, merciless friend try to put a misguided poor child back onto the right path. However he couldn''t stand seeing him suffer this much, even if it was for such a good deed.

    With his tears, the boy turned around and slowly walked away while the barely standing John, who was leaning onto his sword, watched his back. Yet, after a few steps the white haired boy turned around, protracting his right claws and ran over to John, without using the steam system. While the wounded young man just stood there with his still caring expression. He aimed right at his head.

    "John! No!"

    Aaron screamed with all his might, before he turned around, closing his eyes so that he wouldn''t have to witness the cruel scene.

    After a metallic scratching sound, followed by a strong hiss, a drop of blood ran down John''s forehead from where the middle claw connected. It ran past his eyes, splitting up at the nose and flowing along the sides. Running down his lightly tanned cheeks and reaching his chin, where it eventually dropped down into his small pool of blood.

    "I win..."

    These silent but clear words came out from John''s smirking mouth.

    Aaron heard the voice and decided to carefully open his eyes, and saw John and the boy standing. Despite the attack, the former hasn''t moved an inch, while the boys middle claw, which was longer than the other two, stuck in his forehead. What he saw was that John is alive, the claw had merely pierced the skin but not his skull. While his sword stuck inside an object on the boy''s waist.

    The boy was surprised, the object on his waist was a pressured steam tank, which would power his claws. John had carefully aimed to cut it open, instead of actually hurting the boy. Now that the tank was damaged, the claws began to slowly retract due to the decreased pressure, leaving the child unarmed.

    "You are right, you win..."

    Knowing that John had not only put his full trust in him, but also disarmed him, he admitted defeat and stepped back. The police finally came, asking who to arrest and as Aaron pointed towards the boy, he quickly ran and broke through a window.

    "Wait....up..."

    Having the desire to follow him, John limped towards the window but Aaron quickly ran over to his injured friend.

    "Stop it John! You are in no condition to continue this! You have lost too much blood already... Any moment and you could---"

    As expected John dropped onto the floor. By trying to push himself up he merely slipped and hit the floor again. The blood he lost had already created a pool around him.

    "How come? I am a doctor, I worked as a military doctor and yet... and yet... I freeze up now? I know I need to help him... but my body will not move..."

    Aarons thoughts run wild as he stands next to his friend who was laying in blood trying to inch forward with his arms. He tried to create a sound, to have a voice, but only a faint breath came out of his mouth.

    Eventually John stopped moving, he was out of power, the pool got larger and his lips already turned dark blue with his skin as pale as the boys. As he looked around, his thoughts were the only working process.

    "I cannot move... my body won''t move the way I want it to.... My vision... is turning blurry...

    Is this...? Is this all my blood?.... Incredible! I never thought I had so much....

    I feel cold... but also warm...

    really... warm...

    nice...

    and...

    warm..."

 Chapter 4 : The past and the Present

    Loud breathing echoes through the room, painted in white. Covered in bandages, a young man lies in bed with his right leg held up by a rope. Next to him, sits another man with black hair. He worried about his partner, since he was asleep for two days.

    Suddenly, a hoarse cough followed by several more alarmed the man, making him quickly stand up and lift the respirator of his friend.

    "John? Are you alright?"

    The gleaming bright ceiling lamps, run by gas, dazzled the patient, who quickly covered his eyes with his hands.

    "Aaron? Is that you? ...Are you dead too?"

    Startled by the question, the black haired man smiled and replied.

    "Yes and no. Yes it''s me, and no I am not dead and neither are you."

    Hearing that, John pushed his bandaged body up his pillow and looked at the palms of his hands. Opening and closing them as if to confirm that he really was still alive.

    "I see, thank you Aaron. I knew I could count on you to rescue me."

    Aaron stood in shock, thinking back to what had actually happened.

    In the moment his friend needed him the most, he wasn''t able to act. Only when he saw John fall unconscious, did he call for help but was incapable of helping. He could merely stand by and watch as the doctors did the job, which he was supposed to do. His mind was blank, the thought of possibly loosing his friend, of carrying the responsibility. He simply couldn''t bear it.

    He explained what had happened, holding his head in his hands, crying. Feeling disappointed in himself, with his shoulders heavy of guilt.

    Despite this, John just looked at him and smiled.

    "Lift your head, you shouldn''t cry. Even if you weren''t the one to fix me up, you made sure to support me and feel responsible. You even called the medics and brought the police for backup... without your support I would most certainly have died, because I am an idiot," he said with a hoarse voice. "So thank you a lot."

    Aaron''s tears dried up as he listened to his friend, calming his irritated mind.

    "Even though you may say that, I am sick of letting you be the only one who puts his life at risk..."

    With a sigh John began to speak loudly.

    "Anyway... I am starving! I want to eat! Let''s go eat, I feel like I haven''t eaten in days!"

    He tried to lift himself out of his bed but his still weak body crumbled under the sudden movement. Surprised, Aaron swiftly caught him and sat him back onto the bed.

    "Huh? Why can I not stand up?"

    "You have been out for two entire days, your body is simply not fit enough yet. Remember you almost lost enough blood to die there... plus you cracked your right leg in that fight."

    "What, two days? So that''s why I feel so hungry. Wait, you said I cracked my leg too? That would explain why I had difficulties standing."

    He began to remember what happened and also how he fought the young boy including him talking about his past. He blinked at Aaron and away, several times, almost unsure if he should say something.

    "I guess I owe you an explanation right?"

    Aaron knew what he meant, but stayed silent as he looked back at the fight since he knew it wasn''t a topic to talk about.

    "You don''t have to, I can understand it."This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    "No!"

    The attempt to shout made John cough and it echoed through the white room, located in a small hospital. Meanwhile Aaron lifted his eyebrows, not having expected to be yelled at.

    "I have to explain it, otherwise it would not be fair... I know you this long and yet I always kept it a secret."

    Sliding down under his blanket, he wrapped himself in, facing the wall, opposite to Aaron.

    "John you---"

    "No! Shush! Just sit down and listen, this is my decision. Just so you know I wont explain it again, so you better listen!"

    Leaning back into his chair, Aaron crossed his arms and sharpened his ears as he gave a short reply. "Go ahead then."

    "Alright, well, let''s see... where to begin...

    I never knew my parents, I lived at an orphanage for most of my life.

    At the orphanage there was only one person, one man, who took care of us. He was like a father to us, and also a member of the church, hence why everyone referred to him as Father. He told us bedtime stories, or rather crime stories from his old days. When he was young, he was known as detective Sterling... you can imagine why people are still being confused over my age.

    All of us had inherited the name when we joined the orphanage, and we were all treated the same. Nobody got special treatment, neither for the better nor the worse.

    That is why I had difficulties understanding the kid, since all I knew about it was from the stories I''d heard and I somehow felt like I had to help."

    "So that is why you chose not to fight him."

    "Yes, I wanted to try and understand him and make him realize his mistake.

    I will skip several uninteresting years of my childhood, to the day where everything changed in my life. A few years ago, when I was about 14, the military came to us. They had the order to take the father with him but he insisted that he stays, since he couldn''t leave us alone like that. However, they had other ideas..."

    Aaron''s right brow lifted, wondering what he meant, whilst John was also looking around the room to check that they were alone and continued speaking silently.

    "They threatened him to come, not as the father of the orphanage but as detective Sterling. ''You have been summoned for an important mission'', they said as they aimed at him with steam hoses. Which are tubes, releasing hot steam. Which is almost like being drenched in water by fire hoses, but believe me if I say that it hurts a lot more.

    Continuing on, I as my 14 year old self stood in front of father to protect him. Although I realise now that it was a silly attempt."

    John curled up and took a long breath before continuing, holding his back, where the scar was.

    "T-They released the steam and wanted to kill me, since I was in their way. I ducked but when I noticed that I didn''t feel any major pain, even though I could clearly hear the whistling of the steam, I looked up. He, Father protected me..., shielded me and saved my life. However some of the steam still made it through and got to me."

    "So that''s when you got your scars..."

    "Indeed, they remind me of that day, the day my naive thought lead to someone, who cared about me, suffering. It is a memory I will never forget, and one that I will always be reminded of whenever I see it.

    Eventually they stopped to see if we were still alive and surprisingly we actually were, although badly injured. As father stood up he pulled a hidden knife from his pocket and tried to fight back, but a sniper from further behind," John went silent and mumbled. "He shot him... he shot him in the head. It was over, he was just gone, within a moment. I couldn''t even blink."

    Tears ran down his face and his nose clogged up but a few tissues suddenly started slowly falling down in front of him, which Aaron kindly threw. Quickly moving his eyes to check if Aaron was looking, he cleaned his nose and eyes, noticing that he was indeed looking away.

    "Since then, the orphanage went bankrupt and we had to survive on the streets. Famine was our enemy, and in the end only a few of us were able to hold out. But just when I thought I could rot away, a man picked me up and brought me to his home. He was a steamworks engineer and taught me all about it. I guess after noticing how similar the boy was to me, I wanted to help him even more.

    As mentioned in the fight, I wanted to use my sword to take revenge, but instead chose to rather do something that would honour our father. At the age of 17 I became a detective, I overcame many hardships and fought my way past all the adults who had better education and physical strength. However my wits and blade helped me forge a way forward. And even thought I still can''t believe I passed the written exams, and beat my graduation opponent, I eventually obtained the sterling silver badge, the same as the one that he used to show us.

    "I remember the day you passed the final exam," Aaron laughed. " You were sent straight to me since you were badly injured by your opponent and I as a military medic had to fix you up."

    "I know! It was also the day I asked you come with me!"

    "Oh yes, I remember how blunt you were.

    ''You are pretty good at this, why not come with me and help?''

    I couldn''t refuse such a silly question, after all how could I let the youngest detective of this state walk alone, especially after you nearly lost your arm in an exam fight."

    They continued talking and laughing, and soon sad tears of the past, became tears of joy for the present. In a few days John would be able to be released from the hospital and be able to continue his quest.

 Chapter 5 : A fresh new page

    Few days after John woke up, he was allowed to leave hospital, although in a wheelchair. Aaron was kind enough to be his escort and pushed the chair. Having waited almost a week to visit the mines, John was now growing even more impatient. He wanted to visit it immediately.

    To reach the mines, one has to leave the town of Brinston, and go deeper into the mountains. There lie many mining towns, or ruins by now. Due to technological development, mining was no longer a worthwhile job for most citizens which is why most moved away, leaving behind empty towns. The mines themselves were even further into the mountains, to contain noise. Nearby usually were several merchants, selling precious gems and ores to travellers.

    The one thing John was most interested in was a blaze stone. They are unexplainable by science, being able to evaporate water with ease and its disability to burn anything made it a useful object. These stones are heated within molten ore and stone, and once it solidifies only the core remains, which is a blaze stone.

    Steamworks engineers require them, to have simple and compact methods of heating water to create a constant amount of steam.

    Despite their troublesome journey, when both John and Aaron arrived there, a certain sign got in their way.

    "What do they mean ''Mines closed for industrial purposes''!"

    He couldn''t believe what he saw and shook his head, believing it wasn''t real.

    "Perhaps it was bought up by some company?"

    Agitated by this, John tried pushing his wheels to move in but Aaron held onto the chair, knowing it would not be a wise idea.

    "John, I hate to be a bully but this must be private ground now. If we trespass we will get in trouble." Dust from the rotating wheels started to cover his black cotton trousers.

    "I know," John sighed as he let go of the wheels. "It''s just that we went through all this trouble only to turn around."

    After he had calmed down, they turned around and went through the empty towns to look at the old buildings. Rough stone homes built into the mountains, with pipes running all over the streets and around the buildings. Outdated sandy land roads, with lantern poles decorating them, of which their candles hadn''t been lit in years.

    "I cannot help but admire this view," Aaron looked around and soaked up the aesthetics of the town with an open mouth. "I mean, it''s part of history. Today we have gas lanterns, underground pipes and asphalt roads, not to mention proper buildings."

    "I agree to some degree, I think it is amazing how much changed since then but," John yawned. "Don''t you think it''s also really boring? I mean should we not be enjoying the present more than the past?"

    "Whilst that may be true, sometimes it is important to look at the past to do just that. The present is the present because of the past after all."

    Confusedly John stared at Aaron, unable to understand what he meant before hearing an eerie, ringing sound. His partner also heard it, and could also tell the direction it came from. In this moment his thoughts made him freeze, but his instincts made him act. He pushed away John with his wheelchair as hard as he could before it hit the ground.

    "Aaron? What are you---"

    From the corner of his eye he saw something descend upon where Aaron stood, creating a strong impact, stirring up the ground. Meanwhile he hit the wall of a building. Sand and dust scattered through the street, making it difficult to see through.

    After getting a hold of himself, John turned around to try find his partner but could not see anything behind this dusty veil.

    "Aaron! Aaron, are you alright?"

    However, there was no reply, leading him to have worried thoughts and memories of his past run wild.

    "No, he can''t be. Please don''t let him be... please no. He can''t die! If he died protecting me... it would be just like then," he suddenly began to scream with all his breath.

    "Aaron! Don''t you dare die on me! Not like this!"

    Then, with a strong breeze, the mist of dust began to lift, revealing a crater in the street..

    "Oh shut up you idiot! I am not dead."

    Hearing this relieving voice, John pushed himself to where it came from and found Aaron laying on the ground with his usually kempt back hair now in a total mess, coated in dust. He was only a few meters away from the crater.

    "You look horrible," John smiled. "But how did you manage to get away?"

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    "You don''t look much better you know and... I have no idea how. Something just knocked me away."

    While wiping of their dirty faces they looked closely where the crater was and where the dust was still floating around. Coated in a veil of sand a black silhouette stood tall.

    "You two alright?"

    John remembered the voice, he heard it not too long ago. He looked even closer until the dust finally completely settled down, unveiling a short boy. White hair, crimson red eyes and shabby black clothes.

    "You are that kid from back then, but what are you doing here?"

    "Well I planned on playing bodyguard for you, but I guess saving your friend will do."

    The boy managed to jump in and knock Aaron away in the knick of time, whilst also preventing himself from being hit.

    "I see, are you alright?" John stared at the kid, who was still wearing those claws and the damaged pressure tank.

    "Stop being such a worrywart, I think we have worse things to deal with right now."

    He pointed at a roof in the distance, where a slender shadow could be seen with what looked like a rifle, with a container on the back of the person.

    "A steamworks railgun? Of course... that would explain this enormous impact. They are one of the strongest military weapons at the moment but how did that person get one."

    Right after he said that, the person ran away.

    "Stay alert, we don''t know if there are more, or when he will strike again," the boy said whilst he spat out some sand that got into his mouth.

    "You are right," John held out his hand. "But let me thank you for saving Aaron."

    "I think I should thank him too then, after all I was the one who was saved."

    The boy turned around, taking a glance at the hand before looking away.

    "You don''t need to thank me, I just wanted to apologize."

    "Apologize? For what?" John angled his head, looking puzzled.

    "Dumb question, I almost killed you back then. So I wanted to make it up to you, by at least protecting you until you were back on your legs."

    As the young man sitting in the wheelchair heard those words, his attitude abruptly changed. A wide grin carved its way into his face after he pushed the handles of the chair against his partner and ordered.

    "Aaron!"

    "Let''s go home! We have no more business here."

    "What? So sudden?"

    Barely having calmed down from almost becoming part of the dust, he was flustered by his partners sudden change of mind.

    "Yes, after all I have to make use of the fact that he will be our bodyguard for the way home," he grinned in a way that made Aaron think a pair of horns grew from his partner''s head.

    "I never said--"

    "Oh yes you did! You said you would protect me until I was back on my legs. Now look at this chair, does it look to you like I am able to walk back home?"

    A cruel tone came from John, who just caught his prey.

    The boy shook off the sand, knowing that he dug his own grave and mumbled. "Fine..."

    After leaving the town, they headed home by train and in the evening arrived at Port city. It is an industrial city, about 2 hours away from Brinston by train. It has a big harbour, a beach, and a large industrial area. Most importantly it was also the city in which the detectives office was. Even though it is an office, it was also a flat, with 8 rooms.

    As they entered the flat, both Aaron and John could not help but breathe in peace with the feeling of being home again. For convenient purposes, Aaron also lived there in one of the guest rooms.

    "So then, can I go now?"

    His red eyes began to tire from the tough day and felt he was allowed to leave, now that his target is safe.

    "Sure, after you answer my question," holding up his Index finger.

    Aaron looked at John with a confused look in his eyes, while the kid was willing to listen if that was all.

    "Go ahead then." He sighed.

    "What is your plan now? The police is looking for you after all, you are a wanted man... or kid. You will have to face the consequences for your actions.

    His partner wondered what he meant, since he never told the police any details. All they were looking for was a young male criminal since John didn''t want them to trouble the boy.

    "I know, I have already decided to atone for what I have done, and give myself over to the police. You were right, I was wrong, I was blind with revenge and now I know that I am no better than the person whose life I took. At most, I am worse."

    "Wrong."

    Their ears sharpened as John began his lecture.

    "What you are about to do, is wrong. If you confess to the police you will be held in prison, rotting away. How about you rather atone for what you have done by making up for it? You already showed me that you are willing to help others. You saved us after all, even though we were enemies not too long ago."

    "John, what are you trying to say?" Aaron could barely believe what his partner was trying to say.

    "I am saying. Stay here! Work as my assistant, you have the strength and the wits for it. This way you can help me solve crimes and help others. It is much better than just sitting in a cell all day."

    "Yes, but--"

    "No ''but'', I don''t want crap. I just want a clear answer. Will you live here with us, helping me as an assistant? Yes or no?"

    They were completely overwhelmed by his reaction but most of all was the white haired boy. He could not grasp his luck, this opportunity. Looking down at his hands and claws, scratched up and dirty, he made a choice.

    "Yes," he bowed down. "Thank you very much for having me! I hope I can be of help to you!"

    Whilst Aaron was still bothered by having a criminal now live in the same house as him, John was smiling.

    "Just to be sure, you are older than 14 right? Since child labour is against the law, you see."

    "Oh, yes I am 15, I turned last year in December."

    "Great, and what is your name?"

    "Sir, my name died alongside my past. So I don''t have one anymore."

    His tone changed and became more formal, since he wanted to fit the role.

    "Well we can''t have that, I need to be able to call you!"

    "I am terribly sor--"

    "Matthew! Or Matt for short! Yes that is just perfect."

    "I beg your pardon? I suppose... that sounds quite nice. Matt it is then. Thank you sir."

    With that, Matt was welcomed as a new member of the team and with a smack on the back John softened up his new assistant. Enemies of the past became partners. However something still made John worry. Why was someone attacking them, and why did the person have that weapon?

 Chapter 6 : Trick or Treat Halloween Special

    It has been a week since John invited Matt to live with him and Aaron, to work for him. So far the boy has tried his best to fit in and help around the house while John was recovering. Even Aaron, who didn''t trust him at first, has taken a liking to the boy. By now though, John is fit again but still just sits around sulking. Aaron has already guessed that it''s due to the closed mines, but after looking at the calendar he had an idea.

    "Hey John, I know it''s late but could you go into town and get us some flour and sugar?"

    "Sure, but what do you need that for? I mean can''t that wait till tomorrow? It''s eight already," John yawned loudly.

    "Well if you want to, then the cookies can wait till tomorrow..."

    "Cookies? Sure I''ll go! Just tell me what you need!"

    Aaron wrote a list and handed it to him as he closed the door with John leaving.

    "Do you think he knows what today is?" Matt overheard Aarons tease.

    "Well, we will see I guess. Anyway, did you buy the Pumpkins earlier?"

    "Yes, I sure did! And I also got us some candy," he said while unwrapping one.

    "Alright, don''t eat them all though, just in case people come by."

    While John was out shopping, the two of them were in the kitchen with the Pumpkins, carved out faces and carefully placed candles inside.

    Eventually the usually ever so courageous detective came back through the door breathing strongly, like as if he had just participated in a marathon. However, the lights were off.

    On his toes, he carefully walked into the kitchen.

    John saw two glowing faces, which spooked him. His eyes opened wide and his mouth even let out a slight scream as he jumped back. A loud laughter broke out beside him and as the lights turned on, he saw his two partners holding their bellies as they grasped for air.

    "Gotcha John!" Aaron shouted.

    "I''m sorry Sir, but you should have seen your face!"

    "Damn you two! What the heck are those anyway?"

    He dropped off his shopping bag and inspected the glowing pumpkins.

    "You don''t know? Those are Jack O''Lanterns, they are the first sign that today is Halloween," Aaron kindly explained, whilst still slightly laughing.

    "Halloween? Oh I know now... so that''s why all those monsters are outside and everything looks so horribly spooky."

    "Did you never celebrate it, Sir?"

    After the words left his mouth, Matt wondered if it was even correct to say celebrate in this context.

    "No, not at all. I never had time to care about it. Actually, I think this is the first time I actually noticed it..."

    The two of them were stunned, John was 17, almost 18 and yet didn''t know what Halloween even was. They gave him some slack and explained everything, with Matt being most enthusiastic about it, so he didn''t have to walk around clueless anymore.

    "Oh so that is why you wanted to make cookies, and here I thought it was my lucky day---"

    The door bell rang.

    John jumped and hid behind Matt.

    "Sir, please calm down. That was merely the doorbell," Matt took his role very serious but couldn''t help but giggle at the sight.

    As Aaron went to open the door, he asked John with a laugh, "Could it be that you are easily spooked and that''s why you never had anything to do with Halloween?"

    "What? No! No, of course not. No."

    Through the door came a big green man with a screw sticking out of his head. Just seeing this monstrosity made the usually brave young man run and trip over his own feet.

    "A monster! Get it out! Please, save me!"

    The man stood surprised, while Aaron and Matt nearly died of laughter with some tears running down their faces.

    "I''m sorry mister," Aaron had trouble breathing. "Could you please use the bathroom to change your outfit? I think our detective would be very thankful for that."

    After leading the man to the bathroom, Matt readied some hot chocolate and sweets on a table, surrounded by several chairs, in the office. Meanwhile Aaron tried to explain to John that it was just a costume, but he wouldn''t listen.

    "It''s just... you see... I grew up only believing some stories and science, but I guess whenever I sense anything unscientific my whole body just trembles."

    "Well, I''m sorry to hear that. We will try not to tease you too much."

    Eventually everyone sat down and the visitor introduced himself while Matt played around with a costume bag.

    "I am sorry that I scared you earlier, I didn''t mean to. I just wanted to get help as fast as possible."

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    "Don''t worry. What do you need help with?"

    "It''s my daughter, Lea. She ran away."

    "She ran away? Why?" Matt interrupted.

    "Well you see, today is Halloween and this would be her first Trick or Treat, she dressed up as a pink fairy since she doesn''t like none-cute things. Anyway, she got scared by the decor and costumes and ran away. Please I need you to help me find her! She''s just 8!" the man cried, begging for help.

    Matt suddenly stood up and spoke loudly, with plastic vampire teeth poking out of his mouth, "We will do what we can, to help you find your daughter!"

    The others stared at him weirdly until John stood up and supported him.

    "As he said, we will help you. Nobody should be out alone, not at this time."

    While John and Aaron put on thick jackets for the cold night, Matt just wore a pullover and carried a bag of sweets.

    "If you want to I can lend you a jacket, oh and why are you carrying those?"

    "Thank you, but I''ll be fine Sir. Oh those? They are just in case."

    "Just in case? Fine, but don''t forget the mission. No knocking around people''s houses!" Aaron lectured him.

    "Yes Sir!" Matt salutes.

    The four of them went out and split up. Aaron and John walked together, seeing as how they didn''t trust John to be out alone. Matt went out alone since he was the most nimble one among them, and so did the father.

    Heading out, they looked very carefully. Pumpkins in the yard, skeletons and spider webs on the road. Steamworks ghost plays and several people, mainly children playing trick or treat. They left no stone unturned, or rather skull. It was like the world changed overnight, even John got interested in some of the mechanisms for the attractions but he still hurried past anything scary looking. Eventually they all began to call the girls name, hoping to receive a reply, which never came. They had been outside for about an hour, and John and Aaron had to take a break, since their knees began to ache.

    "We still haven''t found her, John. Do you reckon she left the city?"

    "No way, she is too young. I think she probably just hid somewhere and is waiting for her dad to find her." He said resting against a tree.

    "Caw caw!"

    A crow flew past John, making him nearly jump out of his body and bump onto the tree behind him.

    "Oh come on, that was just a crow... John? Are you listening?"

    He was shushed.

    "Listen, can you hear that?"

    Faint crying came from within the tree, the two walked around and found a hole in it. It was an old oak tree with wilting leaves, decorated with spider webs. Inside they saw someone sitting in a pink dress. John kneed down and tried to talk to, who he believed to be the girl.

    "Hello, are you Lea? Your dad is worried sick about you."

    "Go away! You aren''t my daddy! Leave me alone!" she screamed with tears running down her little glittering face.

    The two men looked at each other and knew it had to be her, so Aaron went out to collect the other two. He found Matt still wearing plastic vampire teeth, which even scared him when he saw him. After everyone had arrived her dad spoke to her to try get her out of the hole, but no chance. She didn''t want to leave from her ''safe'' place.

    "It''s alright darling, daddy is here now. Let''s go home now shall we?"

    "No! All these people look weird they aren''t human. I don''t want to go outside!"

    Matt''s mouth sunk down, feeling depressed. He then began to slowly move to the hole and sit down on the cold grass, rubbing his freezing hands to warm them.

    "Everything is alright--"

    The girl screeched since before her sat a red eyed vampire with white hair and pale skin. She pushed herself even deeper back onto the bark. Matt then pulled out the teeth and showed them to her.

    "Look, it''s alright. It''s just a costume, there are no monsters, nobody here means to frighten you."

    His attempt to calm her down seemingly worked. as she started pulling at his hair.

    "But your hair is white! That isn''t a normal colour."

    Startled, Matt had to come up with an excuse, "Uhm, that''s. I dyed my hair! Yes that''s right."

    "Really? Why should I trust you?"

    "You don''t have to, it won''t change what I am about to do," he picked up her pink basket and filled it with sweets from his bag.

    "You see, no matter how scary we may look. Deep underneath, everyone is just human, and wants to have fun. It is an event meant to enjoy and share things and sights. Even if they look like monsters, you shouldn''t judge them for it, because nobody will harm you," he giggled. "After all how could they harm such an adorable little fairy."

    Everyone listened closely, trapped by his little speech.

    "Daddy," she looked at her father with big watery eyes. "I''m sorry I worried you."

    "Don''t worry sweetheart, let''s go home now," he reached out his hand.

    "No!" she quarrelled.

    John smirked while the other three could not believe their ears, they were certain that it worked.

    "I wanna go get more candies! Please daddy can I?"

    Her sweet unexpected reply made the four of them break out in laughter.

    Father and daughter were reunited and ventured through the city for more sweets, while the other three headed back home, John had enough heart attacks for one day.

    "Caw caw!"

    Leaving behind a trail of dust, the brave detective ran home.

    "That wasn''t even a crow, that was you. Right Sir?" Matt referred to Aaron who stood beside him.

    "Yes it was," Aaron laughed. "I will have to apologize to him later I guess. Anyway, I actually just wanted to talk to you. I am sorry you weren''t able to enjoy today as much as you probably wanted to, but I am proud that you helped us close the case."

    "It doesn''t matter that much to me, I still had fun. Even if it the cost of a certain someone, but nonetheless, it bothered me to see her react like that."

    "You didn''t speak to merely defend costumes, I suppose?"

    "Indeed," Matt said in a saddened tone.

    And so, Aaron decided to go trick or treat with Matt as well. since he felt it was a rightful reward, but what they hadn''t thought of was that Aaron still had the keys...

    Next Chapter, a beautiful client visits with an unusual request!

    Stay tuned, hope you enjoyed and Thanks for readingthis Halloween special!

 Steams Shadow Chapter 7: Lady in red

    Previously the albino boy, who was responsible for the murder at the mansion, has saved John and was thus offered the job as his assistant. He gratefully accepted the offer, however without a name to be called by, John swiftly came up with a new one. His new name was to be Matthew or Matt for short and ever since then he has lived with them in the apartment. Two weeks have passed since he joined them and Matt has made himself useful in the house. Serving John, who was lazy at home, while also aiding Aaron in the kitchen and helping him out with chores.

    At first Aaron didn''t know if it was a good idea to have a murderer live in the same house as them, however they turned out to be have become pretty good friends. Especially since Aaron teaches him many recipes, and actually spends a lot time with him. Before, Matt was alone, driven by revenge and suffered. Neglected by his family, having lost his friends at the orphanage, he had nobody. Despite that, now he has finally found a spot to fit in.

    It was the 7th November, a Monday morning.

    John just woke up and began to take a shower, the first after his stay in the hospital. He had washed before, but very carefully without touching the wounds.

    The apartment had three bedrooms, each person, John, Aaron and Matt had their room, there was also a large office room, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a storage room. The main entrance connected to a main hall, aligned with the door was the office. To the right of it was the kitchen, and further downwards the bedrooms. The bathroom was to the left of the office, while the second one was around the corner to the left along with the storage room.

    John was inside the first bathroom, which was left from the office. He just got into the shower and carefully took his washing cloth, put some soap on it and attempted to clean the wounds. Meanwhile Aaron was in town, they needed fresh bread and tea, so the young boy with his shining, white hair was the only other person at home. He was hard working, but there was one thing which could even make the most busy men act like a child.

    "John?" Matt knocked on the bathroom door. "Can I please come in? Just for a second? I''ll be quick I promise!"

    The shower was quite loud, hence why John had a hard time listening, "Sorry kid, would you mind waiting for ten minutes, I can unlock the door then," he said, flinching every time he touched one of the cuts.

    "Fine..." he sighed.

    He walked through the house, impatiently and furiously, even starting to walk weirdly, all the time keeping a close eye on the clock, which hung in the office. Ten minutes had passed, which caused Matt to carefully run over to the bathroom and once again knock on the door, this time more hectic.

    "John?" his legs formed an X shape as his voice cracked. "Are you done yet?"

    Actually, the blonde man in the shower was not done yet. The process of washing oneself, whilst having the stinging pain every time the cloth touched a scar, was not an easy task. He had to carefully clean up each scar in order for it to properly heal, that was quite painful and time consuming.

    "Sorry kid, not yet. What do you want from here anyway?"

    The boy''s face got paler by the second as he jumped around, "Please I just need to use the toilet, come on!"

    The next thing he heard was an outbreak of laughing. John couldn''t believe that the boy waiting this long, just to go to the toilet. He didn''t even feel bad, especially because of a certain fact.

    "I''m sorry Matt," he laughed, grabbing onto a brass pipe on the shower wall to support himself. "You really didn''t need to wait for me, you know? Just go around the corner and use the toilet there."

    "..." Silence came through the other side of the door.

    "Why you! Damn it John! You---" Matt wanted to release his anger on John, but he simply couldn''t wait any longer. He rushed to the bathroom around the corner, he couldn''t believe he never knew about there being a second toilet there. It was a small room, it literally only had a toilet and a sink in it, but it was enough for Matt.

    The next thing John heard was like as if a water tap was left running on full throttle, flowing into a full sink. Meanwhile Matt could hear John''s wholehearted laughter from the other side of the wall behind him, which was thin and merely separated the two bathrooms. John held his stomach, barely breathing through his laugh, which started to sound like a cough by now. After Matt was done, he smirked and yelled, "Enjoy this, you prick!" He pulled the lever next to the toilet, causing it to be flushed. A scream of pain sounded through the building, John, who had been careful about his scars, was hit by some of the hottest water he had ever felt, causing the tides to have turned, since now he could hear Matt laugh. It was a justified laughter for him, "Serves you right!"

    "You brat!"

    About half an hour later, John was came out of the shower, with a large towel whirled around his head, while wearing a white shirt and brown cloth trousers. He was visually annoyed. At the same time, Aaron came home with two large shopping bags. Matt immediately took one of the bags and helped Aaron bring them to the kitchen, whilst the black haired man wondered why John looked so stung.

    "Oh don''t worry about him, he just had a nice ''hot'' shower is all," Matt said sarcastically.

    After the two of them had put all the contents of the bags into the shelves, John''s head was freed from the towel, with this brown blonde hair almost looking black, because they were still wet. They were still open, untied and reached down to his hips, they seemed longer when untied. His bangs on the front were quite a bit shorter, making sure they wouldn''t completely cover his eyes. However his ears were almost covered, because he hates them. They were big and pointy on top, back when he was a child he was compared to an imp for it, hence why he decided to cover them with hair.

    Meanwhile Aaron stared at the wet haired detective and giggled. After John gave a hum as if questioning the reaction, Aaron told him, "Don''t mind me. It''s just that whenever I see you like that I wonder who that woman is."

    John growled, knowing the woman was meant to be him. Especially since he was 17 and still didn''t have a sign of beard growth. Meanwhile Aaron had to shave every day, simply because his beard disturbed him a lot, however his face still showed a grey outline, where the beard would be. Even Matt had a few thin hairs near his chin, however due to its white colour and the fact that he was merely 15, one could barely even see them.

    John didn''t mind it though, he liked not having to waste time shaving, neither could he imagine even having an itchy beard. He knew how it must feel like, since Aaron would usually complain if he forgot to shave for a few days. Thus, even if he was annoyed by Aaron''s statement, he didn''t feel bad about it.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Before he even had the chance to get back at him, the door bell rang. Quickly, John put on his jacket and brushed his hair so it wouldn''t look like a wet mop. Aaron prepared tea while Matt poured some biscuits into a bowl. John then opened the door and hurrying inside came a young woman.

    "Please come in," John said sarcastically, since she was already inside, leaving him only to close the door behind her.

    She looked about John''s age, had long blonde hair and she wore a red dress with ruffles on the skirt and the wrists. Her eyes had a darker red to the dress, while her face showed no sign of make up it was slightly tanned, but not much. As beautiful and stunning as she was, it left John quite cold. Possibly because of the spoiled aura which surrounded her.

    "How can I help you?" he asked.

    She turned around, swirling the skirt, nearly slapping her braided hair into his face, "Please stop wasting my time, where is the detective? Detective Sterling that is."

    Aaron came inside with a wooden plate, on which the bowl of biscuits and three cups of tea stood. Matt had to stay in the kitchen, since they thought it might look weird if these two young men had a small boy living with them.

    Unlike John, he was actually very surprised to see her, however the reason was not because of how she looked, but because of who she was.

    "Sorry to disappoint you, but I am the said person. I am the Detective Sterling."

    Her eyebrows frowned, "Yes, yes, very funny. Now then where is he?"

    "I am not kidding you, it is me."

    "That is true my lady. This is indeed the only detective you can find here," Aaron confirmed.

    "What? I was told the man I was looking for was old, but this one... it''s a snotty brat," she vividly said, aiming her flat hand towards John.

    John was more than simply mildly offended by her comparison, but swept it off quickly, knowing that a wrong reaction would merely confirm her belief.

    "I figured. Has nobody told you that the old man is dead? He has been for a few years now. I am his son, Johnathan Sterling."

    "I see, well I am sorry for bringing up the topic then. I will take my leave now," she wanted to walk out but John clapped onto the door with his flat hand, refusing her choice to leave just yet.

    "Excuse me, I may be younger but that doesn''t mean I am less skilled," although he knew he was indeed less skilled. "If you have a request just tell me."

    She stared at the young man with his damp hair, "How very rude of you! Fine then, show me how professional you can be."

    Aaron pointed her towards the desk and the client chair, which was a brass chair, with a fluffy flower cushion. She sat down and took a cup of tea from the plate, so did John.

    "So then, let''s try this again shall we? What is your name and what is your request?"

    Both Aaron and the woman in red stared at him like as if he was joking, "John, you don''t know who she is?"

    John was confused and hummed to say ''no''.

    "This woman is the only child of the kingdoms banking overseer, lord Rosenfeld, she is the daughter, Kimberly Rosenfeld," he said disappointedly, supporting his face with his hands.

    Her father was quite old and was one of the most important people in the country, mainly due to his influence on the financial part of the kingdom. He was also the second richest man, only behind the king in the country. Sadly however, she was his only child, thus Kimberly, was the next in line to inherit everything. Because of the status of women in the kingdom, she had many enemies, believing she isn''t fit to be in such a position.

    Slightly irritated that the detective didn''t know about her, she still continued and gave him a letter. It had already been opened, crudely folded together. John went ahead anddrew the actual paper out of the letter. He was surprised to find it being written by hand, but it still looked like it was written by a three year old.

    "Kimberly Rosenfeld, may the sword, which will soon hang above you, never fall down upon you. It would be a shame," the letter briefly said.

    After a quick thought about everything, John was confused, "So then, why is this a problem? I mean it seems like that person cares about you."

    "Nobody actually cares about me, they all just see me as a thorn in their eye or try to use me, which is why I believe this anonymous writer chose to use sarcasm," she said, staring at the desk with worried eyes.

    "Is there more context to this? Because I think if you stay with your fathers guards you should be safe." John felt ridiculed by this request. Why would she come to him if the answer was this simple?

    "My birthday is in 2 days, on the ninth of November. It is also the day that I will announce that I am about to inherit half of my fathers business, as a trial. However, the party I will hold is public, and it would be impossible to keep an eye on all of them," she paused, looking at their open jaws.

    "You are about to have control over half the business? Well now I get the letter, you too John?" Aaron stands in awe.

    "Yes, who doesn''t know the famous story of the sword of Damocles. A King allowing a commoner to be king for a while, letting him learn about the responsibility which comes with great wealth. The people who envy you, who will try to kill you for it. Until the person begs the former King to be released of his punishment. If it is really like you explained it, someone is trying to say, ''I will try to drop the sword upon you''," John deducted, almost seeming professional. "However what should we do, I mean I can''t really send in a bunch of bodyguards for you, can I?"

    "Well, I thought you might know a useful Doppelg?nger for me, someone who can substitute as me," she embarrassingly admitted.

    "Let us say that I do somehow know a woman who looks like you, you can''t possibly throw someone else below the blade."

    "I am aware of that."

    "Wait so let me get this straight, you are looking for someone who is about your height, has long blonde hair, slim and is flat chested too?" Aaron asked rudely.

    "Oh!" she was hurt, crossing her arms. "How dare you talk like that to me! Have you no shame?"

    "Well, I am just trying to put down the facts for this Doppelg?nger search, but I think I already know the perfect person for that job," he defends himself, looking over to John and back to Kim, back to John and then Kim, grinning like as if he had an evil plan.

    It took John a few seconds to realize the hint, until he scratched his head, awkwardly touching his hair, pulling it forward, towards his eyes.

    "What!" he screamed. "You cannot be serious! You mean I am supposed to cross-dress?"

    Kim let out a slight giggle, before being stared at by her ''about to be'' Double.

    "Well, would you rather an innocent girl get in danger?"

    Aaron smacked John with responsibility, knowing that now he can no longer deny the idea. Apparently it even worked, he was curling his hair, as if trying to imagine himself but he shook his head trying to dig himself a way out of this problem.

    "Surely she has a speech going on too, meaning my voice wouldn''t fit hers, unless suddenly she started talking deeper." He crossed his arms, believing he had won.

    "Well theoretically yes, but since the party will be held on such a large scale, we will use voice pipes," she smiled with her eyebrows tilted upwards, as if trying to apologize.

    Voice pipes are brass pipes which can carry the sound which enters through the mouth piece, enhancing the volume, exiting through other horns placed around the facility. It was a commonly used feature for many speeches.

    "You see while you stand up on the podium, I can hide in a room with bodyguards and talk through the horn, all you need to do is try to synchronize your lips to my speech. Basically, I really only need you to look similar."

    Her wits have put all of John''s hopes into dirt.

    "You.. had all of this planned out?" He threw his face at the table, disappointed.

    "Yes..."

    "And what is in it for us? I mean, I am risking my good name here."

    His eyes rolled as he grinned, expecting her to have quite the prize for him.

    "Well, I heard you visited the mines, however we bought them up, which is why I offer you anything you seek. So that you know how much I can offer you, I thought you might like this prepayment."

    She offered him a wooden box, however as he picked it up, he saw it was a chest. John slowly opened it and within it was one large blazestone. It was barely holdable, his hands were about the same size, combined. The shimmering glow of this specimen made John curious, as well as the fabulous flat and clean finish of it. He wanted to take it out of the box, but quickly saw that the cloth around it was slightly charred. He knew that it was due to this stones size, it created enough heat to even burn cloth, which usually doesn''t happen. John had high hopes for his prize, without thinking any further he grabbed her hand and shook it vividly.

    "We have ourselves a deal!"

    John just accepted a deal which would include him cross-dressing, in front of the public, to aim the sword above the young woman onto himself. What will happen to him? What kind of trouble has he gotten into? We will see next month, when he acts as a stand in for the possibly richest daughter in the country.

 Steams Shadow Chapter 8: An unexpected turn of events

    The last day they were visited by a fairly famous young woman, Kimberly Rosenfeld. She came to them expecting the old Detective Sterling to help her but instead finds Johnathan to be the one in charge. Her birthday was to be in two days, one day from now, on the ninth of November and she received a frightening letter which made her want to ask for protection. Interestingly enough, John was thus brought into a deal to stand in for her and dress up as her, in return he would get an exceptionally large blazestone on top of his regular payment.

    The eighth of November, Preparations.

    Since Kimberly''s birthday was to be tomorrow they wanted everything to be checked, not twice but twenty-fold. They couldn''t allow for anything to go wrong, especially since the party covered such a large space. An entire mansion was to be used, along with its garden. Voice pipes, sound improving and carrying pipes, would be used to fake the speech which John would have to hold but instead would be told by Kimberly in a safe space, were set up throughout the main hall of the mansion. While John would sit up stairs of the main hall on a large podium, Kimberly would sit in a safe room further back with Matt as her bodyguard. However to have him be completely effective John helped him repair his steamworks Weapon, the claws. Back when they fought, John cut open the steam pressure tanks and which broke the mechanism of protracting blades and thus won the battle.

    Meanwhile John and Matt sat in the office at their home and looked at the great work created by the merely 15 year old Matt.

    "So why did you choose to make something as strange like claws?" John asked Matt.

    "Well, I guess it was my idea to be like a beast or even monster, or maybe because I am a glutton for overcomplicated designs," Matt explained. "Either way, do you think we can fix it?"

    "Of course we can fix it, we only need to replace the pressure tank. Maybe we could even find a better design for it, but first explain to me how exactly this thing is supposed to work." John turned the objects around and tried to analyse it. "Even as I look at it now from close up I barely understand the mechanism."

    Matt took a glove with the claws and used it as demonstration. "The glove has flexible pipes connected to the pressure tanks, which are filled with water and have water condensers in them, together with a blazestone. Meaning even if the normal amount of water wasn''t enough I could slowly but surely generate more water through the condensers while the blazestone acted as a heat source."

    "Meaning it is the same as my pressure system," John interrupted.

    "Indeed. That is the basics of steamworks after all, anyway, the gloves have rings attached to wires. I would wear the ring on a finger and depending on whether I pulled it, or not, a valve would be opened or closed thus releasing the pressure and protracting the claws. To be exact, when I close my fist the blades would protract, and if I moved my thumb back the three steam thrusters would release pressurised steam for propulsion hence why each glove has two rings."

    "Interesting, I never thought of using wire mechanisms to switch a valve, I always used buttons like I have on my sword. The pipe that goes through it has several valves which would open separately depending on which buttons I pressed."

    "I get what you mean, however it would be inconvenient having to press buttons, plus it has a great effect."

    Eventually, John looked through a box of junk which was filled with metal scraps, tubing, pipes, buttons, gears and pressure tanks. All of it was part of his ''spare parts'' collection, which did annoy Aaron quite a bit mainly because it had expanded from a tiny box, to several boxes filled with all kinds of things. After a lot of rummaging through boxes and junk they had finally found a pressure tank with just the right size.

    "Do you want to keep the tanks on your hip or should they be like mine, worn like a backpack?" John asked.

    "I would rather keep them on my hips because I feel like having them on my back would change my balance, as you know I like to make use of my nimbleness."

    "Oh don''t worry, there is no way I am forgetting that salto," John almost felt some goosebumps as he was reminded of that stunt. "How about we at least split the pipes? Since your problem was that by me opening one tank, the entire system for both claws stopped working. Would it not be better to split the pipes and give each claw their own tank?"

    "I had the same idea at first, problem was that the propulsion system required both tanks. Unless you can improve the pressure I don''t think we can properly change that."

    "You could use two sets of pipes," John pointed at the claws and then at the thrusters. "You could have a pipe for each claw system, meaning they work independently and you could fight even with a tank destroyed. Meanwhile the second set of pipes would be used for the thrusters, allowing them to pull at both of the tanks."

    Matt had some trouble imagining the construction but nodded in agreement. "Sounds good, let''s do it!"

    Afterwards they spent the entire night welding, connecting, reinforcing, swapping and redesigning the gloves. The end result was a hip pack, with one tank on each side which was reinforced by a thick steel casing and a cotton pouch. Hidden pipes which run from the pouches up his shirt to his shoulders, down his arms into the gloves. The pipes were high end, capable of retaining the pressure more effectively than before. The gloves themselves were made out of black linen, simply because Matt liked comfortable clothes as well as the colour black. On the back of the gloves sat a long dark matte metal box which carried the mechanisms. Wires were attached to valves and rings which he would wear on a finger and a thumb to control the claws and the thrusters. All in all, the entire equipment received a major overhaul thanks to John who is quite adept at steamworks.

    The next day, it was early in the morning, it was the day of truth.

    They, Aaron and Kimberly, had to dress and style John into a perfect double for her. First washing his hair, shaving his arms and legs, attaching fake eyelashes, picking his eyebrows and using coloured eye contacts. Carefully braiding his hair and powdering his face together with using cherry lipstick he was almost done. The final part was the dress.

    "Do I really have to wear a dress? I mean, I am sure I can get away with a shirt and trousers right?" John tried to save himself.

    "No!" Kimberly yelled. "You would put shame to my name, no my entire family if you did that. Don''t be such a wimp and get changed already!"

    She pressed a large box with the dress inside into his arms and pushed him into the changing room. While Aaron and Kimberly were standing outside, he had to change behind the red cashmere curtain.

    "Do you need any help with the dress?" Aaron asked, figuring it would be less embarrassing for his partner.

    "No! Don''t come inside, if you do I will kill you. To be honest I want anyone who sees me in this dress to drop dead after this is done," John shouted as noises of changing could be heard inside the small room.

    While he was about to come out as a pretty princess, the real princess was in what she called her casual clothes which consisted of a grey comfy pullover and baggy cotton trousers.

    "How do you women walk in these atrocious things?" John yelled with a struggling voice as he ''swooshed'' the curtain aside and stepped out.

    Before the baffled judges stood a beautiful young lady with braided hair, a ruby red dress with a stuffed bra and red glossy high heeled shoes, except it was a boy who was slowly dying inside.

    "See it wasn''t that bad right?" Kimberly asked with her hands resting on her hips.

    "Oh, you have no Idea. I am glad I don''t know my father otherwise I would be even more ashamed than I already am," he shook by just the mere thought of his parents seeing him in those clothes.

    She let out a disgusted sigh. "You really act too much like a man, try to soften up a bit. Look at the bright side, you get paid for it."

    "I am not a female dog, thank you. Wuff," John barked with a smile.

    At that moment the clock on the wall gave the ''ding'' sound to indicate that it was already five pm. In a few minutes the guests would start arriving. John''s attitude suddenly changed into a serious look.

    "Alright, you get inside the room and stay with Matt. You can trust him to protect you. Meanwhile Aaron, you hide among the guests and try to listen in on anything suspicious while I stand and wait up on that podium. We need to act swiftly here!"

    "Understood," both of them yelled in sync.

    They ran off to their stations but while Aaron continued on, Kimberly turned around to talk to John.

    "Sterling, thank you for your work. I know that I am harsh, but please understand the importance of all this," she bowed.

    "Don''t worry. You hired me for this and I will see through it that you will remain unharmed."

    "Thank you so much," she held her hands open to him, in her palms laying a small bag. "Inside are small blazestones. I usually keep a bag with me to dry my hands, since they always sweat from anxiety so I thought you might need it."

    As John took it, he felt like her spoiled aura had slightly faded away. "Thank you," he says as he held it in his fist. "Now we need to get going!"

    It was just about time. They all got ready everything was set up, the party began. It wasn''t yet time for him to hold the speech, everyone was still focused on greeting one another and finding a place to stand. Meanwhile John still had a few moments to wait on the great podium and saw that it was designed as a discussion table. Around a small wooden table were six chairs, which were for the family members and VIPs. He took the chance to have a seat and calm down before he has to hold the speech which he doesn''t even need to hold himself. All he has to do is stand there and look pretty and attempt to move his lips in the right pattern. While he sat in his rather comfy satin chair he looked at the table and found a newspaper from a few days earlier, the fifth of November.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    John was not exactly the kind of person to read but he figured it could not hurt for once. He opened up the first few pages, filled with useless celebrity discussions and some financial ones too. Skimming over everything he eventually gulped as he read the headline, ''Iron Fist Gregor was executed in prison for murder''. Johnathan had fought him not too long ago, the man was a mass murderer and a prisoner already but he tried to steal a train and was defeated by John in the end, losing an arm. He couldn''t care less about a murderers life, however it was a shock none the less. The Authorities never executed anyone, they were imprisoned but never actually killed or even promoted in the newspaper. Something about it didn''t feel right to him, despite that, a light tap of Aaron''s hand on John''s shoulder told him that it was time.

    Standing tall on the railing of the podium, looking down at dozens no hundreds of people with by far too much money and by far too expensive clothes on, he felt that his throat became dry. If he could, he would run away since he hated attention of this size. Although he loved being the centre of attention, it was only fine if it was within a small group, any more than ''small'' made him anxious.

    The sound carrying pipes were all set up and before him was a pipe which lead to nowhere, merely acting as a disguise since the actual one was with Kimberly in a room behind him, safe and locked.

    After a short cough as to gain everyone''s attention which came from the tubes, he held his right hand in a fist before his mouth. After everyone was silent, Kimberly started.

    "Everyone, thank you for coming here today. I am grateful that you decided to spend your time for me. As you know, today is my eighteenth birthday and my coming of age party. As such my father wishes to announce something to everyone."

    An old man, her father, stood up from the behind John and stood next to him. His eyes looked slim and annoyed, he expected to share this moment with his daughter and not with a man in a dress.

    "Everyone," He yelled through the main hall. "I am proud to say that my little daughter has finally grown to be such a beautiful young woman. I know that with my age, it won''t take many more years until I leave her my entirety, but it would be wrong to burden her shoulders so suddenly. Thus I must announce that as of now, I leave with her, half of my business. This should help her getting ready for the near future," he laughed. "Let us not hope that this future comes too soon however."

    His speech left everyone mute. John tried to act thankful by putting on a smile and bowing in gratitude, sadly the man''s cold attitude towards him made John struggle with the ''thankful'' role.

    "Thank you my father," suddenly John had to face the guests again and sync his lips. "I promise not to disappoint you, I will honour your present and care for it with my all. I won''t let your gift go to waste, father. Lastly I would like thank you all for bearing witness to this unique moment and I rely on your hopes for me, thank you," lastly John bowed to the guests, raising his dress a little, expecting to be crushed by a sword.

    To his luck, nothing actually fell onto him and he was instead overwhelmed by a clapping and cheering audience. After shaking his hand with the father''s hand to allow for pictures to be taken, they sat down around the table again.

    "So it appears this trouble was for naught?" Mister Rosenfeld said disappointingly.

    "So far, yes. However would you rather your daughter be killed? Judging by the looks you have been giving me, you would rather see my corpse," John snarled back, without caring for his posture.

    "That is correct, I cannot stand the likes of you who doesn''t even know that as a lady, it is inappropriate to sit with her legs wide open, especially when wearing a dress like that," he answers as he looks aside.

    John, still dressed up as Kimberly, quickly crossed his legs and pulled the dress into place. He knew that even though the speech was held, people could still see him, resulting in embarrassment for Kimberly if he doesn''t continue his lady act.

    Hours passed, it was not long until the party would be over. John''s body hurt from the unusual poses he had to hold. Sitting straight, bowing, smiling, acting like a proper woman, it was really exhausting. Eventually he had to go ''powder his nose'' and went a few rooms further back and before he entered the bathroom he was surprised. Suddenly something grabbed hold of him from behind, and a large pull held him in place while a towel was forcefully held over his face.

    After ten minutes Aaron got suspicious and decided to knock on the toilet door to check on his partner. With a light knock, the door was easily pushed open to reveal that nobody was inside. Worried about the situation, he had some of the personnel of the house go out to find him. The mansion was huge with thousand and one doors, or so it seemed. After not having the slightest idea of where he could''ve gone, the crowd was asked to leave. It wasn''t in a rude sense, it wasn''t long before the party was over anyway.

    After everything was safe, Aaron checked on Kimberly who was being guarded by Matt.

    "Hey, everything alright in here?" he asks as he entered the room, showing that Matt and Kimberly had been playing cards to wait. "Seems so, anything from John?"

    "John? Why no, he is supposed to be out there doubling as me right?" The woman asked confused.

    "Well, you see... Nobody can find him."

    "John is missing?" Matt shouted in worry.

    "Yes, if possible I would like you to go out and hunt him down for me, go after anything suspicious."

    "I hope nothing has happened to him," she worried, folding her hands together in prayer.

    "I know John, he is probably enjoying himself right now, kicking some bad guys butt. However just in case, I would like you to stay here with me and your father. We can''t let something happen to you too."

    Without much fuss, Matt ran out while the rest waited for their safe return.

    Meanwhile, on the road, within a large truck container.

    A heavy speed bump woke John up, with his still sleepy eyes he was astonished. Everything around him was dark and he could hear a loud steamworks engine running, giving away that he was being driven. As he looked around, trying to find just the slightest glimpse of light, he found a small gap between the container doors. He tried moving, but his legs and hands were tied and if that wasn''t enough his mouth was also tied with a cloth.

    Sadly for the kidnapper, John wasn''t stupid enough to just wear a dress and not be armed. Whoever tied his legs didn''t look up his skirt, where he hid a sharp knife. Very much ungracefully bending around, he took the knife and carefully freed his hands, then his mouth and then his legs. Next thing to worry about was that he had no idea where he was, absolutely none. For all he knew, they could''ve crossed borders into another country by now.

    The container was made out of light aluminium, allowing for easier transport and for cheaper mass production. This was something which John knew, but he had no way of leaving the container silently enough. What it did do however, was allow him to carefully poke his knife into the wall to create a small hole. He needed to see if anything looked familiar and indeed, he saw these streets before, especially the sign of ''Brass gear street'' made it obvious for him. The truck was only about ten minutes away from the house of Kimberly, driving through a factory district.

    Soon, the truck stopped in a dead end.

    Container door facing towards a wall, ensuring that the ''goods'' cannot simply run off. Noticing this, John played silent and sleepy, while the engine was stopped and large footsteps trampled outside, coming closer. The container door was opened, shining the light of the moon inside, allowing him to see the kidnapper.

    "Impossible! It can''t be..." John was shocked, he tried not to speak loudly because of his voice making it apparent that he wasn''t Kimberly.

    "Ah good, so this chloro-whatever worked just long enough," the large man standing in front of the container said. "Now come with me!"

    The moment the man stepped inside the container, the light reflected off his right arm. An arm made of steel and brass pipes, not the tiniest sign of flesh. It was part of the incredible craftsmanship of steamworks. A prosthetic arm.

    Just the sight of this made John distrust his eyes, they must be deceiving him he thought. To his pity, they weren''t.

    "So it really is you, Iron-fist Gregor." he said, a little too loud.

    The ears of the big man before him twitched, as if remembering the voice. His right shoulder also began to itch.

    "What? That isn''t a woman''s voice. You are a guy!"

    Swiftly, John jumped around the giant and tried to leave the container but was hit by something into his back, making him almost fly out onto the paved ground.

    "Nice try brat, now let me see," he bent over John, grabbing him by his throat with his metal arm.

    "Hey there, thought you died." John said with a smirk as he tried to pull at the arm with his hands.

    "That voice, so it really is you! Sterling!" the big man was the Iron-fist Gregor, who was supposed to be dead.

    Pressing John against the left wall, he continued to choke him with his warm metal hand.

    "You have no idea how much pain you have brought me, do you even know how it feels to have your nerves being attached to this piece of metal? Thanks to you I need regular maintenance and repairs for my arm. At least that man pulled me out of the prison with the simple order of getting rid of an annoying girl."

    "Aww, poor Greggy," he coughed. "I am sure those people who you killed have pity with you."

    The cross dressing man was pulled up higher, making it even more difficult to breathe, "Are you sure that you are in a position to have a big mouth now? Your life is literally in my hand."

    "Not quite, my life is in this mechanical wonder of steamworks. Plus the way I see it, the reason you haven''t killed me so far is because the hand doesn''t close completely. Am I right?"

    "Enough!" Gregor knows that he was correct but didn''t feel like continuing the conversation much longer as he smashed John against the wall several times. Being practically hammered against a cement wall hurt, not only his back but also his head which hit it every time.

    He had to think quickly here, before he was nothing more than strawberry jam on the wall. While he tried to concentrate, Gregor laughed in joy, finally getting his revenge.

    "I''ve got it!" John shouted in his mind, unable to waste his breath on words. He tried to reach his pocket, blending in on the dress and when he did, he pulled out a small pouch. Rushing, he opened the pouch and emptied its contents into his hand, making it feel incredibly warm.

    "Let us see how good your engineer was!" John yelled as he threw orange-red stones into the complex piping and mechanisms of Gregor''s arm.

    "What''s this? Do you honestly think a hand full of pretty stones can make my arm stop? Too bad, but that won''t do the job!" Gregor said, before he noticed an awful squeal coming from his arm.

    "Too bad these weren''t just any stones, they are blazestones."

    Gregor''s eyes opened wide as he heard these words, realizing that his arm wouldn''t last long with those stones inside.

    "Steamworks prosthetics require incredible precision in order to function just like a human limb. Nerve sensitive mechanisms allow steam to be released into the pipes which, through pressure regulation, allow pistons to move inside your arm. These control the directions your arm can move to and well as your fingers. Just imagine the intricate ability to have a proper flow through the pipes, now sadly the steam cools down and becomes water but luckily the engineer calculated that into the design and made drains and pressure gauges, now what would happen if something was to warm up all of the water residue in your pipes?"

    "No wait, that means--"

    "Indeed, it means that the pipes will be over pressured and will eventually bust!"

    With squealing noises the hand began to open up against Gregor''s will, dropping John onto the ground. Coughing and chocking, John tried to grasp for air, as he felt his body screaming for rest.

    "Not again, why must you always ruin my arm!" Gregor shouted, just as some of the pipes began to break open and have hot steam rushing out, making the sound of a water kettle.

    "I must say though, your Nickname fits you that much better now," John smirked.

    Suddenly a car horn rang from behind the truck. Gregor seemed to believe it to be his cue as he ran straight towards the street. While John really wanted to run after him, he was dizzy from his head being smashed against the wall.

    Stepping into a large black, prestigious car, the giant was driven away. Merely ten minutes later, Matt finally found the weirdly parked truck and with it John, who was sound asleep on the pavement.

    Next time in Steam''s Shadow! John is summoned to the police station and has to take on a large task, while his last mission barely even went well. Why was Gregor still alive? Who built the arm and who drove him away? What more mysteries hide behind this veil of steam?

 Steams Shadow Chapter 9: The new student

    A while ago, John had the mission to protect Kimberly Rosenfeld at her birthday party. Everything went fine, however John was kidnapped and was supposed to be disposed of. Since he was acting as a stand in for Kimberly, the kidnapper didn''t know that he caught the wrong person. John was driven away and it turned out that the supposed to be executed Iron-fist Gregor was the kidnapper, equipped with a steamworks prosthetic arm. John managed to free himself from the iron grip of this giant and was later found by Matt, no sign of Gregor. The young man had to undergo some body checks at the hospital since he was mashed against a cement wall several times, besides a lot of scratched up skin he was fine. As a result of keeping his side of the deal, Kimberly payed the entire fee for the bodyguard work and she couldn''t help but feel sorry for having endangered him. John had already told Matt and Aaron about the situation with Gregor but they decided not to talk about it since it was clearly a strange problem.

    Now however it was a new year and John had to come to the police office for his annual review. Matt was left at home due to him still being a hunted man for the police, so Aaron and John were the ones to go there and were immediately met with General Augustus. He was in his seventies and was a good friend of the old detective Sterling, now he was also looking after John.

    The two of them had to take a seat in this very rustic looking office. Only a large and unorderly wooden desk separated them from the General who was looking through John''s files.

    "Johnathan Sterling, lately you seem to have been slacking off. Towards the end of last year, you took time off without our permission to visit Brinston and you got involved with a murder incident. Instead of reaching out to us for backup, you decided to take on the case yourself since you didn''t want the murderer to escape but you ended up nearly getting yourself killed and lost all trace of the murderer. Then you took off some more time since you were badly injured and continued with a few odd jobs like finding missing people. Just recently, you even played as a double for the young Kimberly Rosenfeld and let the kidnapper go away too, without giving us clear details since you don''t remember much due to a head injury."

    John did not have a head injury but he didn''t want to write that he fought a supposed to be dead man, not knowing what kind of situation the state was finding itself in.

    "So let me sum this up. You were useless."

    The General''s statement hit like a rock but John knew that he was right. Without even being able to tell them any details about the criminals, all his work was basically useless.

    "If it were for me, I wouldn''t mind it. You did more than enough given your age. Sadly, the higher ups do not agree and actually think that you should return your badge," the general mumbled.

    "You can''t! Sure I messed up but please give me another chance!" John slammed against the large table in desperation, not being a detective would mean that he had no way of finding the person who killed the old Sterling.

    "I know that, and thus I threw in a good word for you. They decided to be reasonable and give you another chance. If you can clear up this case you will be allowed to keep your badge," he said handing over a few papers.

    "What''s this?" John looked through the papers. "Application papers for the Grandeene College?"

    "Indeed, your mission is to become a student at this college and clear up a mystery for us. During last year, seven of their best students suddenly disappeared. We went through the hassle of asking around for every bit of information but it turns out that besides them being some of the greatest students, they had nothing in common and nobody seemed to know anything."

    Aaron coughed to hold back his laugh.

    "Are you sure that sending in John is a good idea General?" he chuckled.

    "I don''t quite understand what you mean."

    "Well you see," John tried to explain himself. "You remember how I told you about me being an orphan? Well I never went to school, meaning I have no idea how I am supposed to live through college."

    "I thought you said that Sterling taught you a few things? Plus, you did become a detective so you can''t be that bad."

    "Well, he taught me how to read and write as well as some basic maths but I don''t know much else and, although I taught myself how to do steamworks so I have a basic understanding of physics but other than that, I am a failure in that department. Also I underscored in every exam, I merely became a detective due to my name, but you should know that already."

    "Hmm I see, well that is a problem, since we are unable to enlist you to the college as a member of the police due to obvious suspicion. If we could trust their higher ups it wouldn''t be a problem. You will just have to somehow survive."

    "Maybe I could come with him and serve as a help?" Aaron offered.

    "I am sorry, but I think they would remember a great student like you. As the only son of the Barford family there is no way that they would take you twice."

    "Wait, Aaron was a student there?" John was baffled.

    "Yes, I was. I graduated too with a near perfect score. I studied medicine there, albeit my father wanting me to take over the family business."

    "Indeed, the Barford family is quite the opposite to your friend. They produce biological weapons for the army, while Aaron decided to become a medic for those who suffered from his family''s shame."

    "I am able to speak for myself, you know?" Aaron snarled.

    "Well, I thought it weird that you haven''t told him yet."

    "Forget that, is there any other way of getting me in there?" Aaron asked.

    "Maybe you could apply as a school medic under a false identity, however you will need to be careful not to let the truth slip."

    "Understood."

    "But what should I do? I have no idea what I am supposed to do!"

    "The first year of the college was easy. You don''t specialize in anything yet, which means you need only do the basic subjects. I think the toughest part was choosing a sports activity and the choice between doing music or art."

    "Great, so is there any sport with swords?"

    "Well," Aaron didn''t quite know if he should tell him or not. "There is, but you won''t like it, probably."

    January 9th

    It was to be the day that John enters the school, all preparations were done. Aaron went under the name Dennis as a school medic and John took on the identity as Nathan Carat. John obviously was the one who thought up his new name. Matt wasn''t allowed to enter the college neither as staff nor student, however his job was to lurk around and attempt to obtain all information he could get.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    It was 7.50 AM, John was already five minutes late to his first lesson as he ran through the halls of the main facility. The Grandeene college was almost like a small village with its eight dorm buildings, a large dining hall as well as four sports halls and a main facility which was had enough space for nearly a hundred classes.

    Johnathan ran around with his new uniform, dressed in a blue suit and a white business shirt with a small red tie. His utensils were packed in a black backpack on wheels. The reason he was late was because he wasn''t able to find his classroom, E-7.

    At 8 am he was close to losing all hope before he stumbled into a teacher. He was dressed in a black suit, black hair and beard. He also wore glasses, with an open frame and a round shape.

    "Excuse me Sir," John huffed. "I am sorry but I cannot find my classroom E-7. Would you be able to tell me where I could find it?" John felt ashamed for already screwing up. Usually he wouldn''t have a care in the world, but this was important.

    "Sure thing kid, but first would you help me out?" he opened the door into his office and John was able to see some boxes full of weird things. "Would you be so kind as to help me carry some of these to my class? If you do, I will tell your teacher that you helped me out and that he shouldn''t be so hard on you."

    It was a difficult decision but the new student decided to take him up on the offer.

    "Alright, thank you Sir!"

    Together they carried the boxes over the teacher''s classroom. As they entered he was shown to place the boxes on the floor next to the door.

    "Thank you Nathan," the teacher grinned.

    It took him a while to notice. "How do you know my name?" John wondered.

    "Alright everyone," the teacher was speaking to the class which was sitting orderly and neatly, waiting for the lesson to start. "Let me introduce your new classmate to you. This is Nathan and he will be joining you from now on."

    "Wait! You mean to tell me that this is E-7?"

    "Yep, and I am your teacher, Mr. Desmond. Since you helped me out, I will excuse you being late to class," he grinned.

    John wanted to burst out in anger, he didn''t like being tricked like that but he noticed a familiar face among the crowd.

    "Wait, you are in this class?" he mumbled.

    In the front row sat a young woman with braided blonde hair and a red school uniform which came with a knee long skirt.

    "Joh- Nathan! I didn''t know that you would be joining us," she caught herself, understanding that this must be an undercover case.

    "Yes, I didn''t expect you to be here either."

    "Oh so you know each other? Well that makes things easier then, just sit next to Kimberly. Would you be so kind as to show him around the place after class, dear? That would be very kind of you."

    "Sure!"

    John sat down next to her, which was in the front row.

    "Are you here for business?" she asked, whispering.

    "Let''s talk about it later."

    The first lesson was history class.

    As Mr. Desmond stood in front of the black board, he pulled out a few old maps from the boxes that John had to carry.

    "Alright everyone, do you know what this map shows?"

    It was an old world map, showing the Grey Kingdom in its former form. Only a little over a century ago was it that the three main kingdoms of the lands had near endless wars until the strongest won and reformed them into the Grey Kingdom.

    "Can you tell me the names of the bordering countries?"

    John raised his arm, "to the right of us is the eastern country of Baal, a developing country. Above us is the Northern Fort of the White Kingdom, a military state."

    "Good," the teacher stopped him there to give others an opportunity. "How about you Kimberly?"

    "The Equator is right below us. Merely a few businesses are there to use it for mining ores and other riches, no actual country reigns there however. To the left we have the twin countries Ari�� and Meri��, out of all of our neighbours they are the most advanced and are a strong competition."

    Many countries surround the Kingdom but none of them are monarchies. They are largely democratic besides the White Kingdom, which as a military state, has a hierarchy system.

    After class was over, Kimberly decided to use the long break to show Nathan around the campus. She showed him around the dorms, one for girls and one for boys. Next was the overwhelming dining hall that serves fresh and healthy food, John''s view about the rich people changed drastically downwards. He found it outrageous that they received so many comfort bonuses simply because they are rich, but since he had to fit in, he decided to not utter his voice aloud. Lastly was the educational buildings, she showed him where every class was so that he may not repeat the mistake from today, and she showed him the many sports halls.

    After further lessons of maths literature and physics, they went to Kimberly''s dorm room to talk. He told her about his situation and about the case that he is investigating, in the hopes that she might know something.

    "I am sorry, if you had a better final case maybe you wouldn''t have to go through all of this," she uttered in silence, clutching her hands.

    "It wasn''t your fault. I screwed up a few times before that too. Anyhow, do you know something?"

    "Well I haven''t heard too much, but there were some rumour about missi-"

    John heard something at the door, shushed her and ran straight for the door. With a wide and strong push, he nearly tore the door aside, throwing back a small chunky boy onto the floor.

    "What do you want, and why are you trying to be so sneaky?" John yelled, he couldn''t afford to let anything about his case get distributed all over. As he looked at the boy however, he knew he was too serious since the kid was crying on the floor, begging for mercy.

    Since they might as well hear him out, they let him enter so that he could explain himself.

    "So you are saying that your comrades are scummy bullies and made you play the snake to make you seem cool? Sorry kid, but that isn''t quite how the world works. If you let them play you like a puppet then they won''t let go of the strings, simple as that," John lectured the boy.

    "I know, but I cannot fight against them. I mean look at me I am overweight and small. I could not possibly believe to stand up to them," he cried.

    "Don''t be so hard on yourself-" Kimberly wanted to comfort him but was stopped by a hand motion from John.

    "Actually I have a better idea, get your friends to come here, how about we make a scene?" John boasted while Kimberly''s eyes were full of disapproval.

    After a few runs back and forth everything was ready. The kid came back with his ''friends'' behind him in the corridor of the girls dorm.

    "So then chump, how about you tell us what you want to show us?" the ginger haired leader ordered.

    "I won''t, because I won''t be your tool anymore!" the kid yelled, his eyes closed as if expecting a beating.

    "Know your place, Meatball!" the leader shouted as he cramped his fist together, pulled back and aimed for the boy''s face.

    "Stop it right there!" a girl ''passing by'' interrupted.

    Soon other girls came out of their rooms to look at the scene. Yells came hailing down onto the bullies, "you leave him alone!" "I will report you to the teachers!" "Don''t you dare touch that poor kid!" and many more came flying.

    John''s plan was a success. He knew that nobody would be more kind and protective than girls, especially when a poor little kid is bullied. Kimberly went through the effort of setting up some people from class to catch the bullies. They were scared and could not deal with the amount of comments, and quickly ran away. From further back came John, patting the kid on his head.

    "There we go, that should teach them!"

    "Thank you, but I didn''t do anything. Didn''t you say I had to fight for myself?"

    "No, not quite. I just said you shouldn''t let them play you like a puppet, I never said you can''t use the help of some scissors," John grinned and called it a day.

    The next morning.

    It was Tuesday, also known as sports day at this school. Nathan was given the option to simply join a sports class as he saw fit, the list of the classes hung at the sports hall. He didn''t have any sports clothes yet due to his indecisiveness, he did not want to spent money if he ended up not needing the outfit later. As he looked through the list, his eyes narrowed, he was disappointed.

    "Hey, Jo- Nathan!" a familiar voice sounded from behind him. It was Kimberly in her red sports outfit.

    "Sorry I am still not quite used to it. What are you looking for?" she asked.

    John giggled. "Well I still can''t decide which class to join. Do you have any idea what could be good?"

    After a temporary stare, she grinned similarly John when he was about to be merciless.

    "You could always join the athletics class!" she laughed.

    "Uh, no thanks. Although I think Matt would probably love to join you."

    Matt was also lingering around the shadows of the campus, trying to gain as much information as possible.

    "Well," she looked at the list. "Why don''t you try this?" She pointed at a subject on the list.

    "You too? Even Aaron told me that I should like it but I hate it, it is a show and not an actual sport."

    "Well, it''s your choice. Anyway I got to go join my group now, bye!"

    With a big sigh, John decided to accept their idea and go to the sports hall S-5. However as he entered the hall, something came at him rapidly from the side!

    What kind of class did he join and what is coming at him? Find out next time on Steam''s Shadow!

    This is the beginning of a new Arc, the Grandeene College Arc!

 Chapter 10: On the fence

    Previously, John was given a mission to attend at a college as a student called Nathan Carat. Having overcome his first day, he now had to choose his sports class on this tuesday. However, after deciding, he was met with a sudden attack from the side as he entered the sports hall.

    Barely stepping foot into the hall, a shimmer sparked in the corner of his left eye. John��s muscles tensed up as he barely ducked a thin metal rod. With the sudden assault, he took hold of the attacker, swiftly turning left and grabbing the man. By neck and wrist, he held the black haired man tightly, dropping the weapon out of his hand.

    Noticing John��s squinted eyes, almost like a wolf who caught his prey. ��Stop! Time out!�� the attacker coughed with his hoarse voice.

    Feeling a cramp in his hands, John realized that he had overdone it, his eyes widening again, relaxing his muscles. He let go of the man, revealing the bright red and swollen marks he left behind on the throat and wrist.

    ��Sorry, I snapped for a second. But what kind of greeting was that supposed to be?��

    Coughing and gasping for air, ��I-I just wanted to test your reflexes. I do that with every new member.��

    Tilting his head down at the dropped weapon, John saw that it was a fencing foil. Its black leather hilt lead into a brass hand guard. The blade was drawn from the centre of the hilt, elongated into a rounded tip, blunt as can be.

    ��I nearly forgot how stupid these toys look,�� John says, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. ��I never understood why people use them.��

    ��It is quite simple, really,�� the man finished coughing. ��A normal sword would hurt or injure someone. This allows people to fight to their desires, over and over, without having to hold back on finishing blows.�� He thrusted his hand towards John, as if holding the sword.

    Lightly stepping towards the foil, bending down and picking it up, John stared at it. Looking at his narrowed mirror image in the rod��s glossy metal. A loud hiss sounded as he cut vertically through the air.

    ��No need to use that much force,�� the man said with his right fist on his waist. ��If you do that, you will merely bend it.��

    John threw the foil upwards, catching it by the blade with the hilt toward the roof. He held it towards the man, tilting his wrist to let him take it.

    ��That��s exactly why I don��t like them. They are too light for my taste.��

    Scattered throughout the hall, other students fought, clad in white padded suits. Their faces, covered in a wire mesh, can barely even be seen. When they noticed that John and the man had been talking they stared at them, putting down their foils. Walking at them and surrounding them, the crowd of students began to mumble.

    ��Who is that guy?��

    ��Why is Ewin being so kind to him?��

    Their loud mumbling could not have been missed by the two young men. Ears twitching, Ewin, the man with black hair, had an idea. Fiddling around with his hands, touching them gently, he began to touch his right hand with the left, gesturing a pull at his hand. Having passed the tips of his fingers, he swirled his left hand and gestured a throw at the ground, leaving his hand open. John��s eyebrows lifted, unsure what happened.

    ��He threw him the glove!�� the crowd murmured.

    ��Now I see,�� John laughed. ��How about telling me, rather than throwing me for a loop?��

    ��Why, of course I could! Though it would��ve been interesting if you had figured it out on your own,�� he glared at the students.

    Scratching the back of his head, John debated whether he wanted to fight or not. Although his eyebrows twitched at the thought of wielding such a ��toy,�� there was unrest in him, biting his lower lip. Eventually he sighed loudly. ��Fine but you��ll need to tell me rules since it has been a while since I last did this.��

    Stepping aside, the crowd made a path for Ewin to walk through. Near the entrance stood a slightly rusted iron box with a brass lever. The young man pulled at it, causing a squeaking sound. Suddenly the top of the box opened, revealing two more foils. He took one out and put the lever back to its prior position, closing the box again. Walking away, his black shirt stretched because it was caught in the box��s roofing. With a subtle pluck, the shirt sprang back to him, now crinkled. Handing over the foil to his opponent, he smiled.

    ��Why so happy?�� John asked.

    ��Oh, I just had a pretty good idea for our fight, is all.��

    While John was taking off his blue jacket and the red glossy tie, Ewin was whispering to the crowd. With a synchronized ��Roger,�� they stood in a corner next to the entrance. Waving his hand at him, Ewin lead John to the middle of the wooden hall..

    ��Fencing would usually require us to fight in a straight line, with a point system. We would try to hit the opponent��s neck, groin, back or torso with the tip of the foil to score a point.��

    John laughed. ��That can��t be real, in reality sharp blades would merely cut off one��s hand. What kind of childish game is this?��

    ��You are correct. This isn��t how real fights would be but you shouldn��t take it lightly either. To make things simple for you however, I thought we could just use this entire hall and make it a ��first hit win�� fight,�� the black haired man said, slashing crosses in the air.

    ��What about those silly costumes? Shouldn��t we be wearing them too?�� he pointed with his index finger.

    ��Are you scared? Are you afraid that you will get hurt?�� Ewin grinned.

    Lifting the foil with both hands, with his eyes focused on his opponent, John readied himself.

    ��Let��s do this!�� he shouted.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    One of the crowd members, a brown haired young man, decided to take up the count down. Lifting his arms, ��One.�� Ewin hid his left hand behind his back. ��Two.�� He stood sideways, toward John, aiming the tip of his foil at him. ��Three!��

    Both their eyes slimmed down, following each other. They ran to the right with their eyes set on the other��s feet and chest. With every step on the glossy wax floor, they left behind a squeak. Noticing that John had slowed down, Ewin immediately dashed at him with a thrusting sword, leaving behind a trail of sparkling sweat. Just barely stepping aside, his bangs being blown aside by the strike, John made a vertical cut at Ewin��s legs. Jumping back, evading the powerful and noisy slash, Ewin began to make a leap for another thrust. Missing the first one, he continued on, creating a flurry of thrusts. Forcing John to run backwards, he drove the detective into a faraway corner. All of the thrusts were aimed at the blonde haired head of his opponent, making John��s neck cramp from dodging. Every once in a while, a stray thrust was aimed at the chest or the arms but was parried without hassle. Peeking behind him, John already saw that he had only a few more steps until he set in the corner.

    The students in the other corner were cheering, hands raised, for their fellow student.

    ��This is it!��

    ��There��s no escape now!�� they yelled.

    Nearly being in the corner, John stepped onto the left wall, and jumped up onto the right one. The opponent''s sword was still mid motion, piercing into the wooden wall. Diving down from the wall, John aimed a cut at Ewin��s wrist. With a slight pull, the black haired man knew the sword was stuck. He let go of it, stepping back to avoid the hit.

    Crowd in awe, their cheering was silenced. With heavy breath, John now intended to make use of the unarmed opponent, running at him and aiming cuts at the shoulders and legs. Each attempt, whistling through the air, merely cutting through the drops of sweat from the evading target. Suddenly, Ewin stepped aside, split his legs and passed behind John within a blink of the eye. Merely hearing the metal being forcefully pulled out of the wood, he stood still, still trying to comprehend what had just happened. After a loud ��Ha!�� John held his sword at his back, performing a short rotation. Ewin��s backstab was hence parried and John managed to turn around but once again was caught by surprise. Two long steps, which left behind nearly no sound, allowed Ewin to get behind John once again. Using the motion from the step, he prepared a thrust, releasing it as he abruptly stopped behind his prey. A sharp stab at John��s back, made the hairs on his neck stand up, his pupils shrink and caused him to drop his sword.

    ��The winner is,�� the judge held up the hand. ��Ewin!��

    No applause sounded however. The hall was silent. Still shocked by the unpredictable end, the other students merely stared at the fighters.

    ��Well fought,�� Ewin said, patting John on the shoulder. ��You nearly had me there!��

    With his muscles still shaking from the final strike, John turned around revealing his flat face, drenched in sweat with his empty eyes.

    ��That is a lie.��

    Walking past him, Ewin whispered into his ear, ��Well, I guess I should have expected as much from you, Sterling.��

    These words stung like a hornet, straight into his lungs. ��How does he know?�� John thought.

    With a strong grip, he took Erwin''s arm, turning him around. ��We need to talk. Now.��

    After the fight was over, the students took up their swords again and returned to their training. Meanwhile the two swordsmen sat aside, watching them, as they planned to have a discussion.

    ��Before we get to the topic of that name, can you confirm if my thoughts on that fight are correct?�� John asked, with a bitter tone.

    ��Of course,�� he crossed his legs.

    ��When the fight started, we both had the same idea but you knew the outcome already. You knew I had a bad stamina and you knew you could abuse it. On top of that, you pushed me into a corner and meant to exhaust me by making me dodge. Lastly that footwork is your ace, correct?�� John sat back, resting his head against the wall.

    ��Indeed, I did exactly as you said. Though, I underestimated your parkour skills. Thankfully, you did not know about my signature footwork yet. You see, I am their trainer as well as the best fighter in class.��

    John sighed, ��Should��ve expected as much. As for the name, if I really was this ��Sterling,�� then I would ask you to keep it to yourself.��

    His head jerking up with his eyes rapidly widening, Ewin was surprised. ��Why the secrecy, Nathan?��

    ��Oh so you do know my name? Well, let me just say that I have a job to do,�� he turned his face toward the black haired man.

    ��I heard about a student coming late to class on his first day and that his name was Nathan Carat. Don��t get me wrong but that name is a dead giveaway,�� he laughed, covering his mouth with his hands.

    ��Oh come on, it isn��t that bad! Anyway, I would like you to stay silent about this.��

    ��You can count on me.��

    With the sun going down, everyone went to their dorms, calling it a day. Only one boy, leaped from shadow to shadow, hiding in the darkness of the campus, listening into everyone��s discussions. The moonlight would reflect upon his silver hair, creating a shimmer as he leapt with long steps. Matt wanted to get some rest, hiding in John��s room. The cold air rushing along his black cloaked body, left a trail of misty breath as he ran to the dorms.

    Crossing the nature club��s garden, a loud high-pitched noise rang in his ears. He halted and looked in the sources direction. His body was frozen. Slowly being dragged backwards, causing his legs to tremble and his lungs to burst out a scream, as a bullet drilled straight through his right arm. Falling onto the lawn, a shiver went down his spine. He curled up and held his arm with moans of pain. Unaware if it was the air or the amount of lost blood, he rapidly felt cold. Collecting all of his strength, Matt stood up, trembling from the shock, shivering in the frigid gusts.

    In the distance, he saw a person standing and watching him in an awkwardly bent pose. He noticed too late, that it was the pose of a marksman at his scope as another high-pitched whistle ran through the garden, the bullet passing by him. His muscles finally loosening, he realized that he had to act. With large steps and jumps, he ran at the shooter, tracing a zigzag pattern. Closing his fists, steam passed through the pipes and protracted the three bladed claws from his gloves. Like a cheetah hunting his prey, he sped up, not once losing the person from his sight.

    Another shot passed by him. The cloud of mist rising from the person was most likely to be released steam, used to propel the bullet. Matt focused on the veil of mist, now hiding the person. He tried to find him but it was too late. Slightly to the right of the shot before, the bullet tore a hole through the mist and was supposed to hit the boy. Within a step he noticed the noise of the shot, he guarded with his left hand��s claws, protecting his injured right arm. Flying through the air and dropping behind him, piercing the soil, was the middle blade of the claw. The impact with the bullet broke it, while the bullet bounced away into the lawn. With a new veil of mist, created by the last shot, Matt was unsure of what to do. Sweat running down his head, freezing as he stood still, his eyes moved in every direction.

    Strafing off in a curve, he ran behind the hot steam. As he passed, he didn��t see anyone, only the mist and the icy lawn, sparkling in the moonlight. Then suddenly, from behind him, he heard the shot. The person ran around the mist, using it as visual cover, and shot as Matt was on the other side. Still caught in forward motion and unable to step aside fast enough, the bullet pierced through the cloak and the flesh of his right leg. Tumbling onto his face, spitting out a few blades of grass, he screamed. A scream that took all his breath, echoed through the campus. Holding his right leg, Matt gasped for every bit of air he could draw. The pain raced through his nerves, stifling his lungs. With many short breaths, his vision became blurry. Eventually he couldn��t tell if he was looking at the star clad sky or the sparkling lawn.

    Footsteps came closer, although he did not know where from. Warm blood running from his arm and leg was soaked by the cloak of cloth. Standing next to him was a tall man. Besides the general figure, Matt saw a very unclear image. Kneeing down, the figure reached it��s hand to his mouth. Tasting a bitter matte substance on his tongue, his eyes began to fall shut, his breathing calming down, until he was asleep.

    Who is the shooter and why did he go after Matt? How will John and Aaron react? Find out next time on Steam��s Shadow!

 Chapter 11: Boiling Blood

    On Wednesday morning, John ran into the main building of the college. His steps, heavy as an anvil, echoed through the empty halls as he aimed toward the medic office. Sterile white walls were passed in an instant, running at the room in the far back, the room where a certain black haired man would sit in.

    He pulled open the door and gasped for air. "Aar-...Dennis," he shouted. "Was Matt with you last night? He didn''t show up at my place."

    Aaron, undercover as Dennis, sat in astonishment on his small chair. After just having poured some hot water into his cup, his appetite swiftly faded away. "Nathan." He stood up. "You probably didn''t hear did you?"

    Like a puppy, John''s eyes widened, overcome by feelings that he couldn''t grasp. He closed the door behind him. "What happened?"

    As Aaron reached for a black plastic bag on his desk, he tried to calmly talk to him. "Last night, there was a shooting in the garden. The girls ran from their dorm to the staff and we had the police come investigate. Apparently they heard gunshots and even screams."

    "What is in that bag?" John asks as it is handed to him.

    "We found bullets and a blade. I am sure you can tell by just one look what kind of blade it is."

    Just as predicted, John needed merely one look to ascertain the long claw-like blade, one that could only have been from Matt. "Where is he," John huffed.

    "We found a lot of blood on the scene."

    "I asked, where he is," his tone got louder.

    "We do not know. We didn''t find a corpse," Aaron slowly sunk his head.

    Bewildered by the assessment of his friend, John stepped forward and pulled him by the white coat. Sniffling his nose, the blonde man stared him in the eyes. "How could you speak about this so easily? Matt is our partner!"

    "That wasn''t my intention John, but you need to cool your head for a second." He grabbed him by the arms and shook him.

    "How am I supposed to be calm in this situation? Matt was shot because he worked for me! This is my fault, damn it!" he yelled.

    "John! If you let your emotions pull through like that, you won''t be able to keep up with your mission and possibly lose the chance at saving him. As I said, we didn''t find a body, meaning he was kidnapped. He must be alive, understand?"

    Wrinkles formed around John''s squinted eyes as he steps back and turns to the door before slamming it open. "Aaron! Should we find the one behind this then I cannot assure that I won''t accidentally kill him."

    With heavy steps, he slowly left the building, leaving behind Aaron who rested his head against the wall. "You wouldn''t honestly kill someone, John? Right?"

    Lessons were cancelled for today due to last night''s incident. Thus the lead footed student wanted to spend his day in the sports hall, fencing. Upon entering, he was met by a familiar voice of a brown haired boy.

    "Mornin'' there Nathan! You may not remember me but I was the referee for your fight with Ewin yesterday."

    Not even moving a muscle to look at the boy, John merely had an eye on all the students who were already training. "I see. Well, could you get me a toothpick and an opponent? I kind off need to blow off some steam."

    Startled, the boy shook his head. "You shouldn''t use this to get rid of your anger, plus you should wear a protection suit too!"

    Suddenly an icy breeze ran down his spine together with cold sweat from his forehead as he saw the piercing eyes John gave him, covered by hair and shadow, which merely gave off a subtle gleam from the light''s reflection.

    About an hour later, Ewin entered the hall and was shocked by the sight. His fellow classmates sat on the floor with their suits all torn by one cut at the chest. Wondering what went on, he noticed the ongoing fight. A rapid step forward launched the longhaired swordsman at his opponent, barely dodging the foil''s strike he performed a loud vertical cut. Tearing through the suits chest, he was declared the winner while the opponent walked off with his shoulders low.

    "What is he doing?" Ewin asked the brown haired boy, who had also sustained a cut at his chest.

    "Well he barged in and asked for a fight. Needless to say he is really strong and dodges with utmost precision but he reminds me too much of your brother. Using brute force to defeat his foes and not even paying respect by protecting himself. He beat out everyone''s enthusiasm."

    "Hey Ewin! Sorry but I will be taking a break for now, you can train without me can''t you?" John shouted as he dried his sweaty hair with a towel after his last fight.

    "Nathan! Stop bringing such egoistic thoughts into our sports hall!" he yelled.

    Not having expected that sudden reaction, John stood still in an attempt to comprehend.

    "These are your classmates, you are supposed to train with them and learn together, not crush their motivation by not even taking them serious enough to wear protection! That is reckless and hot-headed even by your standards."

    Clicking his tongue John walked past him, heading outside. "I get it, you don''t want me here. Fine then, don''t worry I will take my leave," he waved his right hand at them. "Bye!"

    As the door closed behind him, Ewin felt a rush of responsibility and ran after the swordsman. "Wait up!" Having left the hall, he looked at the back covered by a white towel.

    "Wait! Nathan, stop already!"

    "What is it?" he halted and turned his head around.

    "What happened? Why are you suddenly like this, everything was fine yesterday but suddenly you seem like a different person," Ewin wondered

    "Did you hear about the incident in the garden?"

    "Not much, no."

    "One of my friends, a boy was attacked by a gunner and was kidnapped too. So forgive me for being more than just a bit angry."

    "So that''s why class is cancelled for today...," Ewin thought.

    "Well, if that''s all then I will just go take a shower now," he said, taking a step forward but halting after hearing Ewin mumble.

    "I really hope he''s fine. I know how it feels to suddenly lose someone, you know?"

    "Who did you lose?" John asked, feeling the sudden need to show interest.

    The air seemed to get thicker around them as both didn''t know what to say, and what not to say.

    "My brother. He was the best swordsman of this school, no, of the region but he was kidnapped together with the others. I just hope you can save him."

    At first speechless, John turned his face to Ewin and caught a glance of him sweeping at his eyes.

    "Look! Calm down and do your job! You are here to help us right? If you do that, then I am sure you can save your friend too," Ewin yelled and walked back inside the hall.

    Although John had the urge to run after him, to apologize for his behaviour, to say "I will bring them back!", he was simply too stunned. His legs were petrified by how serious everything became overnight. To wash off his heavy mind he ran straight for his dorm room, which was about five minutes away but was instead cooled down by a sudden change of weather. The clouds darkened and clumped together as he felt a cold drop hit his nose.

    He held open his hands to check for rain and they quickly filled with water. "Rain? You have got to be kidding me. That''s not quite what I imagined by ''shower''."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    "Joh- Nathan?" a female voice sounded as he passed by a few people. "Nathan wait up!"

    Taking a look behind him, he saw it was Kimberly with a rose red umbrella held above her head. "Are you crying, Nathan?" she flicked her wrist at her friends to signal them that they should move on without her.

    "What, me? No it''s raining, that''s all," John said but was not sure if he had cried without noticing it.

    "Get over here then and we can walk together, you''ll catch a cold if you run in the rain."

    "Uh sure, but I wanted to go to my dorm room which is the opposite way from yours... so.."

    "Or, you could come to my room and get dry while you drink a warm cup of tea, how about it?" Kimberly said, spinning the umbrella with her hand.

    As much as he wanted to refuse, she held the umbrella. "Alright, thanks."

    By the time they arrived at her dorm room they were already soaked from the rain. She lent him a pair of sports trousers and a shirt and sent him into her bathroom with a towel to get changed while she did the same in her room. Once he was done changing, he knocked on the door, waiting for a sign to come in. About a minute later, she knocked on the door, "Are you done?" "Yes, and you?" he replied.

    Kimberly opened the door in her red sports outfit, the exact same one that John wore, and nodded "Sure I am, want a cup of tea?"

    While he sat down at the small kitchen table, she poured him some green tea as steam rose from the porcelain cup. "So, tell me why you ran earlier. Surely it wasn''t just because of the rain, right?"

    As he went to pick up his tea, he instead punched his leg lightly. "I had a fight with Aaron and Ewin, the leader of the fencing class."

    Instead of sitting down, she went to the bathroom, "So what was the subject? Just typical men being stupid?"

    "No, I wish. Matt came with us to act as a spy but he wasn''t at my dorm last night so I rushed over to Aaron, only to be told that the kid''s gone missing and fought someone with a gun."

    A dropping noise came from the bathroom, "Everything alright?" John yelled. When she came out, she had a hairbrush in her hand, "Yes, sorry to hear that. How come you argued with Ewin too?"

    "Let''s just say I was not being respectful because of my anger...," he felt a pull on his hair. "Hey, wait what are you doing?"

    "I am just trying to brush your hair, if I don''t then it will dry with knots."

    "Then why not give me the brush? I hate having people touch my hair."

    "Just relax, I am a woman. I know how valuable hair is so you can trust me to do this properly, or," she pulled tightly on his hair, making him lose a slight scream for a moment.

    "Fine! Just stop pulling already!"

    With a large grin on her face she continued, "Anyway, back to topic. I still don''t understand why you were angry with Aaron, I mean he made sure to tell you the truth."

    "It''s just the way he said it, it seemed like he didn''t care about Matt at all. When we first took him in he was against it too, so maybe-" a harsh pain went through his neck, which made him flinch like a dog.

    "You idiot!" she yelled, pulling down on his hair. "He stayed up the entire night to find evidence, hell he even made the police force look like slaves!"

    In pain, he clapped against her hand to make her let go, "How would you know about it?"

    "Because the entire girl''s dorm was out there last night together with the teachers. Since the garden was so close to us that we could hear the screams and noises. It is also the reason why there is no class today, everybody is completely exhausted!" she shouted, letting go of his hair.

    "Then why did he not tell me that? Why didn''t he tell me that he did all that?"

    "Probably because he didn''t want to make his work seem like the greater problem, but if you argued with him... he must feel abandoned. He told me last night that he really wants you to find Matt, he needs his vice cook back, he said."

    "I-I didn''t know. All that went through my mind was the glimmer of hope that Matt was alright, I didn''t pay attention to Aaron, not at all."

    In rage he smacked his hands against the table, spilling the tea all over it, "I am sorry, I have to go apologize to Aaron. Thank you for your help," he yelled as he ran out of the room.

    "Wait!" she yelled after him but he was out of reach already. "You forgot your clothes."

    As she picked them up, she felt something heavy in his blue trousers. Out of curiosity, she put her hand into the pocket but shrieked as she was hurt by something inside. "What is this?" Carefully shaking them, a knife fell onto the ground. "But why did he... of course, he can''t carry his sword in school."

    As if a horde of wild horses was running after him, John ran through the icy rain to the main building, and up the stairs. Tripping with his wet slippers with nearly every step, he finally reached the doctor''s office but was overrun by a dozen nurses coming his way. With fear written all over their faces, they ran past John. Only one cared to tap his shoulder, "Run boy! Some weird man in a black suit and a rapier broke through the window and is holding Mr. Dennis hostage. We need to hurry to the police!"

    His legs shivered, he had no idea what was going on but he knew he couldn''t leave Aaron behind, not after all of this. "Sorry, but I can''t." A frown signed his forehead as he ran down the hallway to his friend''s office, though shocked to see Aaron thrown over the black haired swordsman''s shoulder.

    Hearing the heavy breathing coming from behind him the swordsman took a look at John, "What do you want, kid? Go run with the others, this one is coming with me."

    "Jo- Nathan! Why are you here? Don''t even think about playing the hero, just run!"

    "What are you planning to do with our doc?" John hoped to buy time while he was trying to find the knife in his pocket.

    "He turned out to be undercover with an annoying detective, so I have to take him with me. Plus, we needed a doctor," the man said whilst he flailed his rapier.

    Furiously tapping at his trousers, he noticed that he left the knife in his other trousers, which were with Kimberly. "Just go Nathan. It is for the better, just promise you will find ''us''," Aaron mumbled.

    "I won''t let this jerk take away our doctor!" John screamed.

    With a strong step he thrusted forward to try and land a punch but within a blink of the eye the rapier had pierced through his right shoulder, halting the young man. "Don''t even try it, kid. I won''t stand down, even if you are just a brat."

    "Just do as he says Nathan, it will be fine as long as you can find ''us'' later-" The swordsman hit Aaron with the hilt of the sword, knocking him unconscious. "That''s enough out of you. See ya, kid!"

    Kneeling down, holding his blood dripping shoulder, all he could do was watch the kidnapper jump out of the shattered window behind him together with John''s partner on his shoulder. In curiosity, he looked down the window to see where he jumped to but there was no trace of anyone left.

    As he leaned against a nearby desk, his vision became blurry and his shoulder stung. "Is there a bandage here?" he thought as he tried standing up. To his luck he needed to merely open up a few cupboards of the desk to find a bandage roll which he could tie around his shoulder with his left hand and teeth to finish it off with a crude knot.

    Suddenly screams, came from outside and he heard a loud rattling noise. Believing he knew what it was, he carefully headed outside toward the source of the noise, which was the sports hall. It was the same one in which Ewin would be to fence.

    By the time he entered the sports hall his head was already very light and he had to tap the walls to gently lean against them. The tumult hadn''t calmed down but his heart overtoned the moans of pain coming from the injured students. Holes decorated the walls and the floor was stained in a faint red and black. John''s eyes were open and yet empty as he walked down the middle of the hall, tripping on a few metallic objects, which he knew were bullet shells. "What the hell even happened here?" he mumbled to himself.

    "Ewin," the judge from earlier today spoke up. "A long haired man in a black suit barged in here with a gun. Ewin tried to fight him but... "

    "What happened to him?" John demanded, his eyes shaking with tears.

    "He wasn''t hurt, but that jerk knocked him out and carried him away. However most of us were injured by the stray bullets."

    "So Ewin lost...," John had trouble understanding the enemy''s objective. "Now what..."

    John laid down, trying to calm his head but noticed something soft below him. As he took it out from underneath him, he saw a black shirt with a familiar knit on the bottom of it.

    "That is Ewins, he used it as a faint," the young man mumbled. "But it didn''t pay out."

    While John was still trying to digest everything that had happened, another student came into the hall and yelled, "Don''t go outside, a man with a sword is out there and he is attacking everyone in his reach!"

    The description alerted the detective, "Did that man carry someone around?"

    "Yes, he held a girl by the throat and seemed to use her as a hostage. Why?"

    "Damn! It''s not Aaron, but it is still an innocent girl. Then again... what am I even supposed to do in the condition I am in?" he thought to himself.

    "I will go take a look," John said as he staggered forward. It was impossible to miss the large crowd, which had gathered around the kidnapper.

    "Is that Kimberly?" "This girl is in my class." "Why does he have Kim?"

    He heard the crowd''s reactions and couldn''t believe that she too was being kidnapped.

    "Let me through! Move it!" he shouted as he pushed aside the crowd.

    Just as he reached the front row, an explosion, followed by a smoke screen, shook the crowd. The irritating ring in his ear along with his dizziness made it hard to concentrate but he could make out a blonde haired girl dressed in red, carried in the arms of a dark silhouette. After a few seconds, the sound dissipated and he could hear a female scream.

    "Nathan! Are you alright?"

    It took him a second to orientate the voice but he was then able to focus on the girl. She was indeed Kimberly. "Damn it, why is she checking for my safety when she is the one in danger here? Stupid girl!"

    "I will-"

    Before he could finish his sentence, he noticed that his attempt to stand back up was futile. Every bone and fibre of his body shook in pain and shock, his feet constantly slipping on the wet ground beneath him.

    "Oh it''s you again, kid. Seems you were able to help yourself. Oh well, I guess I shouldn''t have said ''see ya'', right?" the swordsman laughed.

    "Let her go...," John tried to force his last bit of strength inside him out. "Why would you need her?"

    "Why would I not? Her father is one of the most powerful men in this country, she is worth more than you could count."

    "But she is just a girl."

    "She, is just a girl who owns enough money to buy this school. You really have no sense of reality, right? Anyway, clock''s tickin''. Farewell, kid, and this time for a longer period of time!"

    A small round of explosions detonated around the swordsman, and with the next glimpse, they already disappeared, leaving John behind. Scraping his fingers along the muddy ground, he moaned in agonizing disappointment. His mind was on the brink of bursting from regret. "How can I even call myself a detective if I treat my friends like this? Not only did I ignore Aaron''s situation but I also lost my temper with Ewin. Last but not least, I even got Kimberly involved into this and wasn''t even able to save a single one. I''m just bloody pathetic!" he grumbled to himself, hitting his head against the ground.

    Soon, every student was evacuated by the teachers and the nurses and doctors returned to their jobs to treat the injured. Though, for him it didn''t matter. There was nothing that would be able to treat his past mistakes or calm the hatred boiling within him.

    "Sorry Aaron, I can honestly not assure that I won''t kill them..."

 Chapter 12: Revelation

    It was Thursday evening. Since yesterday��s attack the lessons have been canceled while the police still tries to clear the case. Within the campus�� sportshall, currently filled with injured students, a sudden outburst echoes through. It was the waking scream of a certain young man.

    ��Everything alright, Nathan?�� Mr. Desmond asked, standing next to the patient��s bed.

    Sweat ran down his forehead as he grasped for air. ��Y-yes. I just had a bad dream����

    ��I see. Well, there is some good news,�� the teacher said before continuing. ��The doctor said that your wounds are minor but he recommends you not leave the bed, just to be safe.��

    ��I can��t. I can��t just let them take away so many of my friends. If I wait any longer��,�� he went silent.

    ��Why don��t you wait for the police? I understand your sense of responsibility but it would be better to just let the police handle this.��

    John knew he couldn��t explain his way out without telling Mr. Desmond. Trying to decide whether or not to trust him, his eyes wavered.

    ��Mr. Desmond,�� John whispered as he leaned over to the teacher. ��Can I count on you to keep a secret?��

    The teacher replied with a slow nod.

    ��What if I was to say that I am a detective? What if I was to say that my name is not Nathan, but Johnathan instead?��

    Mr. Desmond��s head jerked back in surprise before whispering back. ��Then that would make you Sterling�� Johnathan Sterling, correct?��

    John sighed, knowing there was no way back now. ��Indeed. I was sent with a mission to find the kidnapped students and was undercover with two of my friends, though they were taken away by what I believe to be very same kidnappers I was looking for.��

    ��So that is why you can��t wait,�� the teacher mumbled.

    At this moment a brown haired boy ran over to the bed. ��Nathan! Oh thank god, you are alright!��

    The injured detective struggled to recognize the face but then remembered. ��You are the judge boy from fencing, right?��

    ��Yes, the name is Andr��. Sorry I haven��t introduced myself earlier,�� the boy said, his legs jittering.

    ��Uh, no worries. I should��ve asked too, plus I was quite rude to you yesterday. Forcing you to give me fights, sorry,�� he clapped his hands together into a praying shape.

    ��You probably had your reasons, so I don��t mind�� But actually I have a request for you,�� the boy said fumbling his thumbs.

    ��A request?�� the teacher wondered.

    ��Yes, it��s about Ewin. Seeing as how you are by far the strongest swordsman out of the rest of us, I wanted to ask if you could,�� he grumbled. ��Please save Ewin!��

    A feeling equivalent to a jolt struck through John��s body as he heard this request. ��Of course, I am not the only one who��s friends are gone. They probably had other friends too,�� he thought. ��I would love to help, but I don��t even have an idea of how I am supposed to fight them. I mean, I don��t even have a weapon to fight with here.��

    ��About that, Mr. Desmond, would it be okay if he borrowed our club��s trophy?�� Andr�� asked, leaving John without an idea of what he was talking about.

    ��Officially that trophy is not allowed to leave the case. However, if someone was to take it out without my knowing��. I guess then I wouldn��t know, right?��

    ��Thank you, Sir!�� he bowed to the teacher. ��Nathan, are you fit enough to come with me?��

    ��I might as well, every second counts,�� John said, nearly jumping out of the bed in excitement before his muscles tightened in pain.

    ��Wait, take these, kid,�� Mr. Desmond handed him a small pack of pills. ��The doc said you can take these if you are in pain, but be responsible!��

    ��My thanks, teach!��

    After taking a pill, John followed Andr�� to the sports hall in which Ewin was kidnapped. A black and yellow warning tape surrounded the building, however they snuck under it. The brown haired boy lead him to the foil dispenser box.

    ��Wait, you don��t expect me to fight them with a toothpick, do you?�� John growled.

    ��No, but if you pull this,�� he says as he pulls the lever to dispense a foil. ��Now if you press it further down.��

    The sides of the box fell down, revealing the gear mechanism which would pull up the foils.

    ��Now all you have to do is take out this golden gear and pull it again.��

    The gears which were now disconnected stood still, allowing a small chain of gears on the other side to rotate as something slowly rose from the top. A golden hilt followed by a sharp and thin edge ascended from the box.

    ��Take it,�� Andr�� offered.

    John didn��t hesitate and took the sword, which was a rapier.

    ��I am sorry that it probably is still not to your liking, but it��s the closest to a proper sword we have.��

    ��No, this is great. This slender blade is strong and sharp,�� he says as he cuts through the air. ��It seems heavy enough too, this should do just fine but how come you keep something like this kept behind a puzzle?��

    ��It��s meant to be a pandora��s box. This sword was used over a century ago by the teacher who opened this club. Everyone knows it is in here since it is revealed every year at the tournament, but it hasn��t been used besides that.��

    ��How can I possibly thank you for letting me wield this piece of history?�� he asked as he sunk his eyes into the reflection of the gold ornate.

    ��You can thank me by bringing back my friend, that is all I ask of you.��

    With a swift cut through the air, leading into him sheathing it into his trousers belt loops he offered his right hand. ��I will bring him back, even if it should cost me a few limbs.��

    Having split paths with Andr��, John was now on a stroll to perform his own investigations. Meanwhile, within a tight dark room three people slowly began to wake up.

    ��W-where am I?�� a man with a white lab coat mumbled. ��What is this? Why am I tied to this metal post?��

    ��I am afraid you aren��t the only one tied up here Aaron,�� a blonde girl with a red track suit sighed.

    ��Wait who are you two and why am i tied up with you?�� the third person without a shirt wondered.

    ��Kimberly, you got kidnapped too?�� Aaron said in a disappointed voice.

    ��Seems so, and since you don��t know any of us, you must be Ewin, right? John told me about your argument,�� Kimberly concluded.

    ��Wait, you know his name?�� Ewin nearly shouted.

    ��Let��s just say we know each other quite well, Mr. Topless,�� a boy on a bed snarled.

    ��This voice, is that you Matt?�� Aaron was astonished as he tried to look over the bed, only to find him bandaged and attached to an infusion bag. ��What.. happened?��

    ��I got roughed up by that gunner and taken here since I they didn��t want me sticking my nose in their business,�� Matt answered in a hoarse voice.

    ��I��m just glad you are alright, I am sure John would be happy too!�� Kimberly exclaimed.

    ��Shush now you pesky nuisances!�� a rough voice from the other end of the room yelled.

    ��This voice, it is awfully familiar but where did I hear this voice before?�� Aaron tried to recall.

    ��Damn it, I am supposed to perform research here and not babysit for those two jerks!��

    ��Now I remember!�� Aaron shouted. ��Are you, are you Ferid?��

    Out of the gloomy back of the room a small person came closer. ��Aaron Barford, I am glad you still at least remember me.��

    ��Well of course! We were classmates! However, why are you here?��

    ��He��s their chemist, he made a weird liquid that can knock you out if you inhale it. Chloroform I think it was,�� Matt explained.

    ��Indeed, I am. This masterpiece is an irreplaceable asset of ours!�� the man said, holding up a flask.

    ��But how come�� you didn��t seem like a bad person. Why are you working with those people?�� Aaron shivered from the cold and wet room.

    ��You really want to know? The reason is you!�� He pointed his index finger at Aaron. ��Back then I worked so hard to become the best in every subject but was no more than your shadow! You aced all of the exams and graduated as the best student!��

    ��That��s just delusional, are you trying to tell me that I shouldn��t have tried to give it my all?,�� Aaron asked in an awkward tone.

    ��Don��t give me that! It isn��t like you shouldn��t have studied but what made me mad was how I barely had any time for anything other than learning, while you had the leisure to go out with friends! Where is the fairness in that?�� he yelled.

    ��It is true that I was always a quick learner but I never knew that he was that jealous,�� Aaron thought. ��So now you kidnap the best students and do what?��

    ��Oh you want to know?�� he said, laughingly. ��Well our boss usually has a talk with them but if that should turn out badly..�� Ferid walked over to his desk and pulled out a rat from a small cage and gave it a drop of liquid from a phial. ��We�� get rid of them.�� The rat jerked and screeched until it stopped moving.

    Kimberly turned her head away from the scene, in disgust. ��What will you do with us then?��

    ��Well, one of us wants to keep the child and the fencing brat while our boss has some interest in you. I however, want the pleasure to personally take care of you, Aaron.�� He grinned.

    ��What happens if we don��t agree with them?�� Ewin said, staring at the wet, shiny floor.

    ��Should you choose not to cooperate, which is your given right, then just see for yourself.�� Ferid threw the rat over to Ewin.

    His stomach turning around, the black haired young man looked away. ��I see.��

    Meanwhile near the main building, John was taking a look from outside.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ��So up there is the window from where that swordsman jumped down from,�� John mumbled to himself, looking up at the broken window.

    He kneed down and took a look at the grassy ground, searching for anything that could help him. Though he seemed to merely find small shards of glass, not even footsteps.

    ��Let��s see, he jumped down from there, I saw it, but I didn��t see him land��,�� he scratched his chin, thinking. ��I didn��t hear him land either to be honest�� though the grass may have acted as a cushion to silence the drop.��

    John walked inside the building and snuck under the black and yellow striped band which was attached to the stairway to the medic quarter. Standing inside the very room where he watched his friend being kidnapped, he took a peek down the window.

    He gulped. ��This is insane, it would require incredible athletic strength to jump down with a person on your shoulder without making any noise this is the third floor after all!��

    Staring downwards he eventually noticed a man in a black suit walk past the spot where John was only a few moments ago and watched him continue to the back of the building.

    ��Is that one of them?��

    Back inside the dark cellar, a sudden gleam of light blinded the kidnapped but ended with a loud bang of an old metal door. A black haired man with a sword on his hip entered.

    ��So you woke up?�� the man said.

    ��This voice,�� Ewin trembled. ��It couldn��t be! Brother?��

    Kimberly, Aaron and Matt let out an astonished shriek as they heard him say that.

    ��You must have the wrong person Ewin! There is no way--��

    ��No, he is correct. I am Larson, Ewin��s older brother,�� the man interrupted Aaron.

    ��Big brother! I am so glad you are fine.�� Ewin��s eyes began watering. ��I was worried sick when I heard that you were kidnapped����

    ��Thank you for your worry, but I wasn��t kidnapped.��

    ��What? But then,�� the younger brother was speechless.

    ��Ewin, this man is the one that kidnapped me�� he is on their side, kid,�� Aaron explained.

    ��No way! My brother can��t be one of them!�� Ewin yelled, shaking his head vigorously.

    ��He also kidnapped me, he speaks the truth,�� Kimberly supports.

    ��You should listen to your friends. It is true, I am part of this organization of my own free will,�� Larson said, patting his brother��s head.

    ��But why?�� the younger brother cried.

    He looked over to Ferid before answering. ��I cannot tell you, but you will know once you join us too.��

    ��Join...you?�� Ewin mumbled.

    ��Don��t even consider it Ewin! If you do that, then John is sure to-��

    ��That name! You mean he is actually here?�� the swordsman shouted.

    ��Crap,�� Aaron thought. ��Uh, no.��

    ��Damn it, now here I thought we already got rid of all the troublesome people,�� Larson grumbled.

    ��Wait, if they didn��t know John was here, then did they kidnap us just to kill us after we decline?�� Kimberly whispered to Aaron.

    ��Oy, Ferid! Babysit ��em for a bit longer while I get this Detective,�� he said as he walked out of the large steel gate.

    Outside, John was now lurking around the back of the building but didn��t find anything suspicious. ��Where did that man in the suit go?��

    Suddenly, a metal grating on the ground next to the building lifted up and Larson emerged from it, before walking around the other side, unaware that John was watching him.

    ��There is a secret path under that ventilation grating? Does the school not know of a secret room? Whatever, I need to take a look now.��

    John waited until the suited man was out of sight before moving in, lifting the grating and climbing down a metal ladder. Once he was at the bottom, he stood before a large steel door.

    ��This must be it, better be prepared.�� He drew his sword.

    All of a sudden a loud noise came from the inside, a gunshot.

    ��Damn you stupid crybaby! Stop making noise, your brother probably doesn��t even care about you at this point!�� John heard a voice from inside.

    ��But my big brother shouldn��t--,�� another gunshot interrupted what sounded like Ewin��s voice to the blonde haired swordsman. ��Shut up already! I can��t work with a baby like you around.��

    It was more than confirmed to John that Ewin was on the other side of the door. After taking a deep breath he pulled the little pack of pills from his pocket and took a swing of it, swallowing more than a handful of pills before entering the door.

    ��Ewin are you alright?�� John shouted through the room.

    As his eyes moved from Aaron to Kimberly and Ewin, he began to grind his teeth, but then his view shifted to the young child on a bed. Attached to an infusion bag, Matt layed there, bandaged from head to toe.

    ��What did you do to Matthew,�� John mumbled, staring at Ferid who held a gun at John.

    Although the four of them greeted John, glad to see that he came for them, he didn��t pay attention. His pupils contracted to a mere dot as a surge of anger boiled within him.

    ��What do you think a kid like you can do? I have a gun, you know,�� Ferid laughed.

    ��This smell, no it couldn��t be,�� Aaron recognized the smell. ��John! That gun uses Gunpowder, be careful!��

    ��Thank you...but I don��t care��,�� John mumbled, seemingly absent minded.

    ��John?�� Kimberly worried.

    ��You are the gunner�� you hurt Matt��.�� The blonde detective cut through the air with the rapier.

    ��That��s the fencing clubs trophy sword!�� Ewin exclaimed.

    ��I won''t show mercy to those who shoot a little kid, especially not one under my care!�� John yelled before rushing at Ferid.

    Out of reflex, the man pulled the trigger on the gun and shot at John. The sound of the bullet left John a little deaf on the left ear as it scratched it. With one fell swoop he knocked the gun out of the man��s hand by cutting his pinky and ring finger.

    A screech of pain echoed through the room as Ferid fell to the floor, his legs shaking in fear. ��No you have this wrong, I didn��t hurt the boy. I would never--��

    ��Silence!�� John shouted as he made a thrust toward him, stabbing the man��s lower leg. ��How does it feel? The feeling of steel piercing through your body?�� he laughed. ��Just imagine the pain a child must have felt when bullets did the same.��

    His friends in the room got goosebumps as they saw John giving in to his anger.

    ��No wait, John, he is speaking the truth! He wasn��t the one who shot me,�� Matt explained loudly, but wasn��t heard.

    Continuing to laugh, he cut forth and stabbed into the shoulders, legs and hands of Ferid. ��People like you don��t deserve any pity! You should be grateful that I haven��t cut your throat yet, leaving you to die, suffocating from your own blood.��

    ��Please,�� the man cried. ��Please stop, don��t kill me please.��

    ��Oh,�� John��s head tilted to the left with a grin, his grip on the sword tightening. ��You honestly think you are in a position to demand your life?��

    He swung his sword-hand back, and went for a final blow.

    ��Stop it, John! If you do this you will be no better than him! No, you will be worse than him!�� Aaron shouted with all his breath.

    His pupils widened but it was too late, the thrust was already in motion. Blood dripped down the man��s cheeks, though from a large scar. In the last second John managed to change the angle of this strike and rammed it into the seemingly soft floor.

    ��Thank you, Aaron,�� the swordsman said in a calmed tone.

    Ferid backed up to this desk in fear. ��You are crazy, you were going to kill me!��

    ��Oh, sorry. Were you looking forward to it? I can still do it you know,�� John smiled sarcastically.

    Just as everyone calmed down a racking noise echoed behind John.

    ��It seems we have a troublemaker and a useless subordinate here, eh?�� A man with long black hair said, holding a rifle in his hands.

    Struck by a rush of coldness running up his back, John turned around and saw the man aiming straight at him. With a slight movement of the barrel to the left, the man made John move aside, standing in front of his friends.

    ��Now then, how come you weren��t able to kill a kid with a sword when you had a gun? Honestly, how pathetic can you be?�� the man spoke to Ferid.

    ��I��m sorry, but it was all so sudden and he was so fast...and��,��

    ��I get it, don��t worry. You don��t need to be scared any longer.�� He kept aiming at the injured Ferid. ��Sterling is it? Do you remember me?��

    ��Remember you?�� John tried to remember the long face and the long hair. ��Sorry but you don��t seem to ring any bells.��

    ��Oh, is that so? Well, then let me ring a bell for you.��

    The man aimed carefully and pulled the trigger. The loud noise of the shot made them flinch, closing their eyes and covering their ears. As they opened their eyes again, Kimberly choked while the others were in shock.

    ��Did he just.. he did�� he really shot that man straight in the head,�� John said to himself as his stomach began to turn. ��This is, exactly like back then����

    ��Now then Sterling Junior, does this bring back memories? I know it has been a few years but I was around not long ago when you were in Brinston after I heard that you were injured,�� the man smiled.

    ��You. You are the man who killed�� father,�� he mumbled.

    The man clapped twice. ��There we go kid. I knew you would remember, although it is sad that it takes a headshot to do that.��

    ��Why did you kill this man, wasn��t he your ally?�� Aaron asked.

    ��Ally? Yes. Worth living? Not really. We already have his lab documents so he wasn��t needed anymore. The only reason he agreed to join us was to kill the best students with his poisons, so he had his fun already,�� he laughed loudly.

    John fell to the ground, his legs feeling like jelly.

    ��Your face is pale, are you alright John?�� Kimberly worried.

    ��No, nothing is alright. All this time I have been looking for the man who killed our father and now here he is. He��s right in front of me but I can��t even bring up the strength to stand up,�� he said as his voice started to crack.

    ��Well that��s too bad. I wanted to have some fun with you when you figured it out. Fine, I guess I��ll go kill the boy then,�� the gunner said as he aimed at Matt with a smirk.

    The young man��s eyes looked right down the barrel, as a small spark of light ignited. The three who were tied to the post let out a loud scream and gasp as the shot was fired, followed by a dropping sound.

    ��John!�� Matt howled in a rough voice.

    ��Impressive, you actually jumped in fast enough. If I hadn��t used an outdated Steamworks rifle then a bullet would��ve pierced through your body and that childs head. Too bad I guess, but that should still sting.��

    ��Shut your trap already,�� John growled, holding the left side of his chest. ��Wait a moment, it doesn��t even bleed?��

    John pulled up his shirt and only saw a dark red spot on his chest.

    ��It was never my plan to kill anyone here, kid. That��s why I just kept one bullet in there for self defence. Plus, you deserve a better death than that. I mean, I can��t just let you die so clich��ed,�� he continued to laugh. ��Don��t worry though. If anyone is to kill you, then it would be me. Just imagine it, killing both of the Sterling detectives!��

    ��I think I told you once already,�� John coughed. ��You speak too much, so shut up.��

    ��Fine, as you wish. Well I have to go report the unfortunate news to the boss now, kill you later kid!��

    The long haired man turned around and ran out of the room.

    ��Would you mind me laying on the floor just a bit longer? I feel...really�� dizzy.�� John slept in, the aftereffects of the pills kicked in.

    ��Wait, no! Wake up you idiot! Cut the rope first!�� Ewin desperately shouted.

    ��Don��t worry, I��ll free you,�� a voice from behind a crack between the doors said before entering.

    It was Larson, Ewin��s older brother.

    ��Big brother! You came back to save us!��

    ��Don��t you dare hurt John!�� Matt stood up from the bed, stretching his arms as he stood before John with jittering legs.

    The man sighed. ��You can calm down, little man. This entire mission was a failure, and besides ��he�� would kill me if I took his prize. Since there is no reason to keep you in here any longer I will just get you free, carry the injured out and make haste, is that alright with you?��

    Without much of a discussion, he helped carry Matt and John out of the cellar and freed Aaron, Kimberly and his brother.

    ��You should probably go to the doctors quickly, they are in the sports halls,�� Larson said as he was about to walk off.

    ��Wait,�� Aaron demanded. ��Why would you help us?��

    ��I don��t think he is all that bad of a person, Aaron,�� Matt said. ��The man with the rifle brought me here but didn��t care about my injuries at all, instead this man treated me.��

    ��I don��t have the leisure to explain myself, but please don��t think of me as someone who will always help you. The next time we meet, I will fight you. Farewell Ewinson, stay safe!�� With that he threw a small ball behind him, letting it explode into a cloak of smoke. By the time it was dragged away by the wind, he was already gone.

    After that, they headed to the doctors to get John and Matt treated while they explained the situation to the teachers. Andr�� jumped joyfully at Ewin, while a teacher sat next to John to talk to him.

    ��I can��t believe you ignored my warning, you actually swallowed the entire pack at once didn��t you?�� Mr. Desmond shook his head.

    ��Sorry, but I don��t think I could��ve fought with this stinging pain otherwise. Anyway, it looks like my job is done here,�� John claimed.

    Everyone gathered around John to check up on him, while Matt was in the bed next to him.

    ��Thank you so much Nathan,�� Andr�� said with tears in his eyes. ��I knew I could count on you!��

    ��Indeed, you have my thanks J- Nathan! I might still be sulking down in that freezing cold cellar if it wasn��t for you.�� Ewin tapped John��s shoulder in thanks.

    ��You saved me again, and this time I don��t even have a payment for you. I am just glad that you are fine, thank you.�� Kimberly bowed.

    ��John, please don��t do that ever again. Had you actually been hurt from the shot then I wouldn��t know how to live with myself. But�� thanks for saving me,�� Matt said, muffled by the respirator on his mouth.

    ��I suppose that��s a job well done, right John?�� Aaron added.

    ��Thanks everyone, I too am glad to see you all unhurt, well almost all.�� John giggled as he looked at the zombie esque Matt who replied with a grumble.

    ��By the way John,�� Mr. Desmond interrupted. ��I spoke to the teachers and they said that they wouldn��t mind if you came by every now and then to study. See it as a thanks from this college for your excellent work.��

    And so they continued to talk about their time at the college and laugh around. Though only a few days later, after John and Matt were fit again, they would have to say goodbye and head back home to the next mission.

    Next time! John and Co. will enter a new Arc! So stay tuned!

 Chapter 13: Steams Tales

    Two weeks after the mysterious group was found at the campus site and forced to leave, John and Matt had recovered from most of their injuries. A letter arrived from the Police Office, letting them know that they were summoned by the General to report incident. While John and Aaron were putting on their jackets, they went over the plan for the day.

    ��Matt. Unlike last time I��d like you to come with us.�� John recommended, leaving Matt with a startled expression. ��It��s just that I don��t want you to be out of sight. You will just have to hide near the General��s office though.��

    ��Do you really think that those people would come here just to snatch me away?�� Matt wondered.

    ��I��d rather not take chances.�� John finished buttoning his jacket and checked himself in the mirror.

    ��You aren��t going on a date John,��Aaron snickered. ��you are fine as is.��

    Unimpressed by the joke, the blonde detective checked if everybody was ready and stepped out of the door, yelling ��Let��s go men!��

    ��Yes, Sir!�� they replied in sync.

    There was a horse carriage waiting for them outside their doorstep and after climbing inside they went on their way to the office.

    Once they arrived, Matt immediately hid into the shadows to stay out of the police��s sight while the two men walked inside, following the corridor straight through to the General��s office. They knocked on the door with slight insecurity, fearing that the General might be disappointed.

    However a loud ��Come in!�� came from inside, seemingly shattering their hopes of a good mood.

    With a view beyond the wooden desk, they saw him smoking his pipe just before he extinguished it and put it down. ��Sit down, you two,�� he said, pointing at the tiny chairs in front of the desk.

    After shaking their hands and looking at their report papers the old man took a deep breath and sighed. ��Truth be told, I think you know that you didn��t exactly do well back there and that your mission was an utter failure, correct?��

    ��Yes,�� John mumbles, already gripping at his detective''s badge. ��We never really found the missing people and the one person we retrieved, was shot by one of their own.��

    ��Correct. That said, the mission was never expected to be a success,�� the General left them in surprise. ��We wanted to see what you could do and how you would perform in an undercover environment and we believe you did fairly well. However, the information you brought us was by far the most important.��

    ��Information?�� Aaron interrupted.

    ��Yes. You provided us with information on the criminal��s plans which is necessary to apprehend them. Although, I must ask you, why did you cut the information on the gun wielding man so short? The one who is still alive,�� the old man twirled his mustache.

    As the atmosphere became tense, the two partners looked at each other. A slight nod from John was answered by the swift shake of a head by Aaron but then followed by a sigh, ��Fine, go ahead.��

    The General calmly waited while John collected his thoughts, seemingly ready for a monologue.

    ��Augustus, I��d rather not involve you into this, and I am saying this as a friend and not as a subordinate,�� John warned, trying to come towards Aaron��s idea of not speaking about it.

    ��Too bad that this meeting involves me as the General and you as the subordinate. As such I order you to reveal all information you believe you need to keep away from me!��

    Those sharp eyes, topped off by his thick gray brows and their strong shift inwards left John no other choice but to talk. With an unruly stomach he began to open his mouth, ��Very well then, General. Please allow me to go back a bit in order for you to get the entire idea. You remember the incident with Iron fist Gregor? He was jailed but later when I acted as a bodyguard for Kimberly he was the one behind it all, although the newspapers stated that he had been executed.��

    ��What do you mean to say by this?�� the General began to light his pipe.

    ��I cut off his arm at the train back then, but he had a steamworks arm that day too. I will return to this in a second but before that, remember how Detective Sterling died?�� his expression turned more serious with every word.

    ��He was shot by a military sniper, that��s the official statement that was given,�� he answered.

    ��Indeed, now remember when back at Brinston we were attacked by a man with a military top notch steamworks rifle?�� He pointed his index at him.

    ��Yes, but it was too unbelievable so we decided to bin it and write it off as a medical hallucination at the time due to your serious injuries.��

    Aaron sat frustrated, not being able to stop John. He was told of this theory but never truly believed it, as such he merely held his hands in front of his face.

    ��To be honest it did seem fishy at the time but I can assure you that with what happened at the campus that it is no mere hallucination. I had to face the gunner and he shot his own camarade in the head, only to make me remember something. He said he killed the first Sterling, and he has me in his sights too, he said! Now why is a person who was part of the military suddenly with a criminal organization? Wouldn��t it be possible for someone like him to have access to new state of the art weapons to hunt me down?��

    ��You are referring he is the same man from Brinston?�� the General interrupted.

    ��Yes, he is. I can second his statement on the gunner by the way, it shocked me too when I heard it although it still seems unbelievable,�� Aaron supported as he began to understand the situation.

    ��What I am trying to say is that there may be a person in the head branch controlling these people, the gunner and Gregor. After all, as for Gregor it would be easy to fit him with a new arm and fake the news, it would also be the only way for this to be possible,�� John took a deep breath before continuing. �� Do you now understand why I wanted to keep this information away from you? I didn��t want you to accidentally lose a word about this and get involved into something ugly.��

    John clawed his fingers into his knees, knowing that what he said still makes little sense and that the General would most likely begin to laugh now. In his favor, however, he didn��t laugh.

    ��I see now how serious this entire theory is. I must say it seems very unreliable but if what you speak is true, then this might be someone staging something behind the scenes,�� he mumbled with his pipe between his lips. ��But there is no need for worry,, I will keep this a secret, but you still have something else to explain to me, regarding Brinston.��Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    The two men knew exactly what he was hinting at. Aaron lifted his eyebrows at John, asking him what to do but John was too captivated by his thoughts, knowing that this was something that he really didn��t want to talk about.

    ��Sir, would you please open up the window? The smoke is really making my throat scratchy,�� he said, coughing.

    Without further ado the old man turned around and opened up the window behind him. ��It��s alright now Matt, you can come inside,�� John said loudly.

    The General turned around, confused by what he had said but saw Aaron panic, mouth wide open.

    ��Why would you do that John?�� Aaron shouted, pulling at the blond man��s jacket.

    ��It��s not like we can hide him forever. We might as well try it,�� he answered with his fingers carving into his knees even more.

    A small boy came out of the brush in front of the window and jumped inside through the window in his dark attire. Cloaked in black cloth with snow white hair and scarlet red eyes, making the General jump backward into his seat. The boy walked between the two men, not even questioning this decision.

    ��Come lower your head for a second,�� John pulled a twig out of Matt��s hair. ��There you go.��

    ��Explain yourselves!�� the General��s eyes were wide open.

    ��Well, Sir. This is the murderer of the Mansion case, the one who nearly killed me,�� John jokingly said with a depressed undertone.

    ��So that��s is why you withheld information about the culprit back then, but why is he with you?��

    ��He saved us from the gunner back then in Brinston. Actually, he saved Aaron��s life back then and decided to accompany us home since he felt regret for what he had done. So I gave him the option to live with us and help us out,�� John��s eyes looked towards the carpet floor.

    ��I know it must seem ridiculous but it is the truth, no matter his past he is trying his best to make up for his actions,�� Aaron added.

    ��That doesn��t allow you to bend the law! You know that no matter the age, he is a murderer and needs to go to jail. To think that a detective acted like that when you are supposed to uphold the law, it is truly a pity,�� the old man said, leaving them almost to throw up. ��Or rather that is what I should be saying, but I can understand your actions.��

    Their eyes began to tear as they heard those words.

    ��Then you won��t call him out?�� John asked, wiping off his eyes with his sleeves, redding the skin around it.

    ��To be honest, I would have been disappointed had you not acted the way you did. But like father like son, I suppose even if you aren��t his blood he��d be more than proud of you,�� he bent over and patted John��s head. ��Though I am a little angry that you didn��t tell me sooner, I understand your fears but please take the chance you have to see me as an ally rather than your boss.�� He tapped his pipe to empty out the ashes. ��But that isn��t all I am angry about. Why are you taking this young man with you on such dangerous jobs? I read your report as well as the reports of the campus and if I am correct the poor boy was severely injured!��

    ��Please don��t be so harsh to them, Sir General, Sir,�� Matt spoke for them. ��It isn��t their fault. It was my own failure, I was too weak and got caught but that won��t as easily anymore! To be honest, even if they told me to just stay at home to be a child, I wouldn��t listen because.... how could I possibly atone for what I did by enjoying a peaceful life while knowing that my selfish actions probably caused a man��s family to suffer����

    The old man pushed himself back and sighed, ��Great, another stubborn one.��

    The three of them looked at him, wondering what was to come next.

    ��Well fine then. That would sum up that business,�� he pulled out a paper from his pile of documents. ��Here, this is your new mission. You are to start today.��

    ��Wait, that��s sudden!�� John whined. ��Not even sugarcoating it, you are just going to hand us this and nothing else?��

    ��Well, I think we all had enough for one day, but you also need to hurry to get on the site. You are to accompany a cargo ship and bodyguard it. It��s nothing fancy but we wanted to give you an easier task this time since there was no way you could have recovered enough in two weeks, so look at this as a cruise.�� He chuckled.

    ��Why would they need the police��s company?�� Aaron asked.

    ��We don��t know. The Captain came here and asked us so I thought I��d do you some good, but he never stated why he needed it but I suppose it��s just that he wants to protect his cargo.��

    ��Fine, I guess we will see when we arrive there. Is that all?�� John asked, wanting to leave.

    ��Ah, yes of course. Have a nice trip and take care of the boy!��

    They shook hands, Matt jumped back out of the window and the two men walked back to the carriage where they met up and headed home. There, Aaron packed their clothes while John was more busy putting on his sword and repairing Matt��s claws.

    ��This time around John, I plan on not being useless in case something should happen,�� Aaron showed off a little pocket of daggers.

    John broke in a laughter, ��I am sorry, I take everything I said about fencing foils,�� he was barely about to breath as his chest began to hurt. ��These are the real toothpicks!��

    ��At least I am not making up for my size with a ridiculously large sword!�� Aaron barked back.

    ��Why, you!��

    ��Shut up, both of you! Or do you want me to scrape you apart with these?�� Matt interrupted, showing off his claws.

    Flailing their hands in the air they surrendered and finished packing their clothes before heading out to the harbour of the city where they already saw a large ship waiting. Its main frame was wooden but reinforced with rifled steel, almost like hundreds of cogs. On the bow hangs a large brassen angel.

    Men were already loading the goods into it while a very short old man was already waiting for the arrival of the detective.

    As they got out, John yelled, ��Hello!�� But was met with an even louder, ��Shut up ye runt and get on board already!��

    Stunned by the greeting John offered him his hand, ��Sorry old man, glad to be working with you.�� Yet again, the Captain shouted, ��It��s aye! Besides I don��t want to touch ye dirty landrat hands! Just get on aboard my baby!��

    With that, they all slowly walked onto the ship in awkward silence until Aaron asked, ��Captain, excuse me but why did you order bodyguards?��

    ��I like yer attempt but you are in no position to question the Captain! Have some patience, then the fish will come to you on its own! Meanwhile, drop off yer things in the cabins and trodd around the Grand Maria to get familiar with it!�� he yelled.

    As they went to the cabins, both John and Aaron had lost their motivation already while Matt suppressed his chuckle.

    ��That old fart sure has some nerve,�� John mumbled.

    ��Indeed, how does he expect us to work if he treats us like that,�� Aaron said.

    ��Well, I suppose he holds his authority high. Look at it like this, to his men he has to show who the Captain is and that this is his territory. If he was to soften up for us strangers he��d lose his face,�� Matt lectured them, leaving them astonished.

    ��Aaron, what kind of books did you give him to read? He just said something smart!��

    ��Well, to be honest, that is not a great feat but he even topped me so I suppose Doby Mick wasn��t the greatest book to give him,�� he joked.

    After unpacking they went to the kitchen hall. Lighting inside was poor since there were only a few smoldered gas lamps hanging down and small round windows shaped like gears.

    ��Let��s see if we can get something to eat here already. I haven��t had a bite since breakfast and the day is almost over,�� John whined.

    ��Well, had we taken a steamworks car we would have been quicker with the traveling, but you wanted to save money by paying a horse carriage,�� Aaron snarked.

    ��Anyway! I hope they have fish here, I always wanted to try some!�� Matt said with a smile on his face.

    They walked toward the counter but the flickering shadow in the corner caught their attention. With curiosity they strained their eyes to make out what stood there until the person standing within stepped out. His dark cloak and black hair, paired with a rapier on his hip made them step back. ��Why if it isn��t you people again. It��s been two weeks right?��

    Before them stood the brother of Ewin, Larson. A member of the criminal group from the campus was on the ship with them, as past angers began to boil within John.

    Why is Larson with them? What are they supposed to do on the ship? Find out next Chapter!

 Steams Shadow Chapter 14: Venturer of the sea

    With the mission to accompany a cargo ship and a strict old captain, John and his friends found themselves in a position they hadn��t expected. With the innocent idea of getting something to eat, they saw a man in the poorly lit corner of the dining deck. Dark hair shimmering in the light of the gas lights, his sheathed rapier clanging against the wall and his black coat swinging in motion of the ship made it clear to them.

    Larson, Ewins brother, stood before them, the man whose stance with the shady organization was still unclear. However John merely wanted to remember the man��s faults.. Without giving it a second thought, John began drawing his sword but was stopped by Larson��s flat hand, signaling him to wait.

    ��Save your effort, I am not here to fight you and neither are you here to fight me,�� Larson said, lowering his hand.. ��I was ordered by my boss to make sure the cargo arrives where it��s supposed to, and since you are here too I guess you have similar orders, right?��

    ��Why would your boss want you to do something like that? Don��t you have to kidnap more people?�� John said.

    ��Honestly, I don��t even care what you think but there is no reason for me to fight you, it��d be better we work together,�� he sighed, stepping past John.

    ��Wait, so you know why we need to protect this ship?�� Aaron asked.

    Abruptly turning around, raising the corner of his mouth, Larson said. ��Oh, so you don��t know yet? Well I believe the Captain will explain everything in due time.��

    Seeking quiet time, he walked out of the room and left them alone. John took a swift step toward him but Aaron tugged his sleeve.

    ��What do you want to do? It doesn��t look like he��s lying, right?�� Matt asked John.

    ��I don��t know,�� John scratched his head. ��As much as I��d like to beat him to a pulp right now, I guess I agree that we should be working together for now..��

    ��Right, but we should really find out what the real reason is for our being here. It sounded like Larson knew.�� Aaron crossed his arms. ��I just hope we aren��t already in some kind of trap.��

    ��Yes, we really should--��

    John held his words as he saw a person slowly creeping up behind Matt who stood closest to the entrance. Expecting Aaron to have spoken of the devil, John ran at the person, pinning him down with his palm against his chest. His left hand already formed a fist but during his outburst Aaron shouted. ��Stop!��

    Snapping out of it, John took a closer look and noticed something was off about the person, although it seemed like he was just one of the deckhands. Looking into his young and reddened face however made John let go with a blush as he mumbled ��Sorry.��

    ��Sorry lad, bad timing I guess. We were just talking about how suspicious everything was until you showed up. John here kind of goes a little overboard sometimes,�� Aaron explained.

    ��La- Lad right.�� John slowly stepped back. ��So then what��s your reason for sneaking up on us?��

    The deckhand caught his breath, still in shock. ��I actually just came here to tell you that the Capt��n wants you to come meet him at the rudder. Seeing you folks talk I thought it would be best not to interrupt ya��ll.��

    ��I see, thank you for informing us. Sorry for that,�� John said.

    Without letting the Captain wait any longer, they went right up the stairs to the helm where Larson and the Captain were already waiting. They formed a clean line in front of the old man, aligning themselves next to Larson while the deckhand stood next to the Captain.

    ��Thanks son, ye did a good job rallying ��em up here,�� the old man said, surprising the four of them.

    ��Son?�� John asked without thinking, being met with a deadly stare of the man.

    ��Yeh, anything wrong with that, landrat?��

    ��No, Captain, nothing wrong.��

    ��Right then, I think it��s about time for ye to get to know why yer all here. Long story short, a group of pirates have been terrorizing the trade routes for a while now and have taken many lives of good men,�� he went silent for a second. ��Anyhow, fact is that the cargo on this ship is crude oil. If they were to sink this baby then a lot of valuable money would be lost.��

    ��So you need us to fight the pirates when they appear. Aren��t mercenaries better for the job?�� Larson asked.

    ��The cargo belongs to the state, so the state got to decide the ones who protect it. Besides, normal mercenaries might not be enough. Them people are ruthless and mysterious.��

    ��Mysterious? How so?�� Matt asked.

    ��Among the Captains they are known as the Mist Pirates. Whenever they are about to attack a ship, all you see is a cloak of damp, warm mist appearing. They do it to hide their ship from our canons right before sending dozens of fighters aboard and slaughtering everyone like pigs.��

    ��I imagine they are strong, but are there any that peak out?�� John asked. .

    ��Most of them aren��t, they are just there to cause confusion. But I know that they have three leaders, each with huge weapons. A sword, an axe and a lance. They are no normal weapons, keep in mind, they are steamworks weapons.��

    ��That sounds like trouble,�� John muttered. ��Do you know what mechanics the steamworks weapons have?��

    ��Sadly I do not, I didn��t fight them, I just remember them use these weapons,�� he explained.

    ��Well, if that is all then let��s hope they don��t come for us that quickly. Thank you for the information Captain!�� Aaron said.

    ��I don��t exactly like you shrubs but I don��t wish death to anyone, so that is hopefully enough to keep you, no us all alive,�� the Captain concluded and went back to steering the ship.

    Larson��s brow twitched and he decided to leave them to watch the sea while Aaron, John and Matt went over what they wanted to do next.

    ��Matt,�� John said in a serious tone. ��I want you to go up that mast and inform us if you see anything. You are the most agile, so you should be able to come down quickly if anything should happen.��The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ��Aww,�� Matt sighed. ��That is so boring though, I want to fight too!��

    ��As uncommon as it is, I will agree with John here. You can still fight them if they come on board but even then, prioritize those without steamworks.�� Aaron pat the boy��s shoulders..

    ��Fine,�� the white haired boy muttered. ��You can count on me!��

    Excited, he climbed up the mast and sat on top of it to keep his eyes open for anything unusual. Meanwhile Aaron looked at John with judging eyes. ��You don��t actually care if he sees them right?��

    His shoulders shrugged, John answered. ��You got me.��

    ��You just want to keep him away from the danger,�� Aaron said.

    ��It��s not like I don��t respect his strength, believe me I know he is skilled. But I don��t want it to repeat again,�� John mumbled.

    ��To be honest, I will probably follow the advice too. I will leave those three troublemakers to you and Larson and focus on aiding the injured.��

    ��Good choice, you don��t have to worry about fighting, just concentrate on what you can do best. You are a doctor after all!�� John hit Aaron��s shoulder with a smile. I��ll go watch the sea for a bit, what��ll you be doing?��

    ��I will join the chef in the kitchen and see if I can help out a bit.��

    ��Alright then, I suppose we should meet up again in an hour or so to see if we need further plans. See you until then!��

    As Aaron went to the kitchen, John stood right at the front deck of the ship, watching the waves bubbling up as they hit the ship, and the seagulls ever so amazingly gliding above the surface.

    His bangs pried into his eyes due to the strong wind, so he pulled out a woolen hat out of his pocket and put it on, tucking his hair under it.

    ��I guess the fresh air of the sea that surges through the hair is quite a nuisance to you too, ey?�� The son of the Captain clung to the railing of to the right of John and leaned back.

    ��Well I guess that confirms it then,�� John points at the son��s weirdly deformed hat.

    ��What do you mean?�� He blushed and turned his face away.

    ��Come on, it��s not like I am numb. I know what I felt, even if it was rather flat,�� John smirked.

    ��What!�� The son shouted in a high pitch, stomping on John��s foot. ��How dare you say that to a la��.lad!��

    John laughed, holding his sides. ��You just about caught yourself there. But honestly, why hide it?��

    The young deckhand turned around, back leaning against the railing as he looked up.. ��You know the old saying right? A woman on board brings misfortune.��

    ��Idiocy!�� John interrupted.

    ��I know, but it is a superstition that has dug itself quite a bit ��round these parts. You see, I want to one day help my father out and lead this crew, but until I can do that I need to prove myself so that I can actually reveal my identity of, you know,�� the person shrugged. ��Actually being a girl.��

    ��Do you want to know my opinion?�� John sighed.

    ��Hm?��

    ��If I was one of them, I��d like my boss to be honest with me and not hold anything back. No, rather, if you were to reveal your identity now it would show your courage and probably make me feel safer,�� he said, watching a seagull catch a fish with a swift dive.

    ��That��s kind, but I��m afraid, afraid that they might reject me. But with this journey my dreams could become true. If those pirates come and threaten my crew, I will pierce through their scummed hearts to make my crew acknowledge me.��

    ��Can you even fight them?��

    ��Why of course!�� she holds her hands at her hips where her two rapiers are sheathed on either side. ��I am a proper swordsman!��

    John chuckled. ��Sure you are!��

    ��What, is every man that stupid? Just because I am a woman doesn��t mean I can��t fight! If you want to, we can have a duel right here!��

    ��No thanks, I��d rather not,�� he declines motionless.

    ��You think you could simply beat me in a flash anyway, huh?�� she slams her fist against the railing. ��You afraid of hurting me?��

    ��Yes, that is basically it,�� John turned his face to her and nodded at her stomach. ��Your passion shows either that you are overestimating yourself or that you have a lot of pride in your skill. But either way, even if by mistake, if I just stumbled and accidentally hit you right there, then I couldn��t forgive myself.��

    ��How do you mean?�� She calmed down, surprised at his answer.

    ��What I am saying is that you not only have an entire future before yourself, but you also hold the future of everyone around and with you. So don��t be reckless and throw it away.��

    As she realised what he meant, she lowered her shoulders and mumbled. ��If that��s the case, then thanks. Sorry for being rude.��

    ��Don��t worry about it. The fact that you are able to understand it makes you a good leader too.�� He smiled. ��Rather than being stubborn, it is good if higher ranking people can look at their mistakes, understand their people and forgive.��

    ��You are much smarter than you seemed to be, Mister�� uhm.��

    ��John, John Sterling,�� he helped her.

    ��Right, you seemed to be more dense at first, Mister Sterling,�� she said.

    ��Ouch,�� he held his heart. ��Well to be fair I am not the smartest, but I think the reason I have those two with me is because we treat each other as friends and care for one another. I usually leave the brains to Aaron and lately even the calmness to Matt.��

    ��That reminds me, where is Aaron?�� she asked.

    ��Aaron? He said he��d help out in the kitchen. Why?�� he looked at her in wonder.

    ��I guess I��ll have a chat with him too then, get to know you people better. For all we know, we will have to rely on each other eventually.��

    As she turned around and walked away, she let out a word too faint for John to hear. ��Thanks.��

    Stretching his arms into the clear blue sky, John yawned from the fresh air and saw a man in black just a few meters next to him. It was Larson.

    While he enjoyed his black hair waving with the blow of the wind, John carefully inched toward him and mumbled. ��Nice weather, right?��

    His expression showed barely any care for John��s attempt of breaking the ice but after John coughed every few minutes, expecting an answer, Larson gave up and grumbled. ��What do you want?��

    ��So you did hear me after all!�� John smirked. ��I was just wondering what your plan will be for when the time comes to fight.��

    ��My plan is not to have a plan, simple as that,�� Larson sighed.

    ��Wait, what? Aren��t you going to prepare at least a little bit? Three steamworks weapons aren��t a joking matter.�� John broke a cold sweat.

    ��That is exactly why I don��t want to make a plan yet. I don��t want to rely on a plan when I barely have any information about the actual size or mechanics of their weapons. Doing that would only hinder me.��

    ��I-I see,�� John said, not quite understanding Larson��s logic. ��Well then, at least care to tell me about your sword? That way I might be able to work better with you.��

    ��Nice try, Sterling.��

    John clicked his tongue.

    ��You will see when the time should come, but don��t forget that after this is done that we are still enemies. Besides, I would rather worry about our Captain for now.�� Larson turned his back to the rail to have the wind blow against his back coat, fluttering from the blow.

    ��Why the Captain? I mean, sure, he is strict and annoying but why should you worry?��

    ��Are you deaf? Did you not listen to what he said?��

    John itched the back of his head as he tried to remember his exact words but couldn��t find any reason for doubt.

    ��Try recalling what he said he remembered,�� Larson hinted.

    Still thinking, his forehead covered in wrinkles, John eventually sparked up his eyes. ��You don��t mean?��

    ��Aye, dead men tell no tales!�� Larson said in a sea man��s accent.

    ��Then that means that he abandoned ship as it sank, but... ,�� John had trouble imagining the idea.

    ��That is most likely also the reason why he is trying to teach you respect, he probably hasn��t had this crew for long since the last incident and is trying to show them their place. Normally, if you have traveled with people for a long time you��d get to be friendly with them right?�� Larson concluded.

    ��Lower the Sails!�� the Captain shouted through the ship. His men slowly following the order, not even answering him once. ��Oy! Are ye listening?�� he shouted again since there was no reply.

    ��Aye, Aye Captain!�� they shouted back, noticeably without enthusiasm.

    ��You are right,�� John said. ��It really does seem that way. But why would he abandon ship? Isn��t it a rule for the Captain to go down with the ship?��

    ��It��s the usual ethic, but we have no idea what his circumstances were so who knows. Nonetheless, this all seems fishy.�� Larson said as he walked away, leaving John alone to let him make up his own mind.

    Few hours passed, some staring at the endless sea, some working on board and one wondering about what he should do as the sun slowly set before his eyes.

 Steams Shadow Chapter 15: They who travel through steam

    Still sailing on the freighter ship across the vast sea, John watched the sun slowly go down. The air got cold and his skin felt stingy as every breath shaped a cloud of mist while the sun began to touch the horizon. Among the sounds of the gulls and the bubbles popping below the ship, he heard the voice of a young boy.

    Turning around, he saw Matt who had come down from the top of the mast.

    ��Do you need anything Matt?�� John asked.

    Rubbing his hands and breathing into them, Matt answered. ��Not really, but is everything alright with the course?��

    ��The course?�� John reiterated in a boyish high pitch. ��What do you mean?��

    ��Well it��s just that we are going in circles.��

    ��That��s not right, the ocean is just so big that everything looks the same,�� John said.

    Matt shook his head. ��From up there you can see the bubbly trail the ship is leaving behind. It��s curved and it looks like we are going in circles. I began watching the Captain too and he steers slightly to the---le-he-hef!�� Matt sneezed.

    ��Bless you.��

    ��Thanks.��

    ��I��ll go have a talk with the Captain then. Meanwhile, go to the cabin and get a jacket or pullover. We packed a few, so just take one. Don��t want you to get us all sick,�� John smirked.

    ��Okay then, I��ll get that and head back up,�� Matt said, running off to the cabins.

    ��Circles, huh?�� John mumbled in thought. As he thought about what Larson told him earlier today, his eyes sparked up and he began pacing on the deck before going up the stairs to the Captain.

    The old man stood there, the helm in hand, a pipe in his mouth. The sun almost disappeared behind the horizon as mist started to cover the sea.

    ��Captain, can I have a minute?�� John said loudly.

    ��What is��t boy?��

    ��We aren��t actually heading for the docks are we?�� the young man said.

    The pipe sunk down as the Captain heard those words, taking it out of his mouth. ��What are you trying to say?��

    ��Your previous crew, what happened with them?�� John asked, his left hand firmly grazing over the pommel of his sword.

    ��So you noticed. What are ya, a detective?��

    Leaving John dumbfounded, his feet began to get warm. ��Wait, they didn��t tell you? I am a detective!��

    ��Damn them rats of the police! I told them to send me a few men to bodyguard but I never expected them to send someone like you,�� the Captain threw his pipe to the ground stepping on the glistering ashes that became covered in mist.

    ��So Larson was right then. You lost your previous crew to the pirates and are the only survivor, now you want your revenge and...you are using us as bait by keeping us in circles,�� John said, slowly pulling sword out of the sheath with his right hand.

    ��Ye don��t know how it feels to see each and everyone of your friends be slaughtered by them poachers! I only survived because they chose to let me live, so now I am here for revenge! They will regret their choice!��

    Pointing the blade to the Captain��s throat, John said. ��Let us hope for your sake that I don��t get to see that, otherwise you can join your crew after I dealt with--�� John looked around, noticing the darkness that has come now that the sun has completely set and the warm mist surrounding them.

    Condensate formed on his blade, dripping down second by second. John bit his lip. ��They are here, aren��t they?��

    The Captains feet tapped about as he looked around with a smile on his face, revealing the many green and yellow teeth of his mouth. ��Yes! Here they come.��

    Clicking his tongue, John went down the stairway to the deck, but halted midway, looking back at the Captain. A despicable stare was aimed at him before continuing to walk down.

    Loud explosions sounded, mere seconds after the freighter ship shook with cracking sounds all over.

    ��We were hit!�� the Captain shouted from up above.

    From the starboard a ship slowly came into vision through the steamy mist. The bottom cloaked by steam that gushed out of large holes on the side, the top old dark wood repaired haphazardly with scraps of metal and planks. The mold that decorated the ship was impossible to miss. The first enemy men came forward and threw long planks and ropes onto the freighter, starting to walk and climb over.

    Larson already stood at the ready, joining side by John. ��We have our work cut out for us, it would seem.��

    John coughed out a laugh. ��Aye.��

    The son, who John knew was in truth the daughter, rushed over fetching her rapiers out of the sheaths of her waist belt. ��You boys ready?��

    ��Yes,�� John said turning to her. ��Sorry to ask you, but please take the crew and hide inside.��

    Her face boiled red in anger. ��What? This is my fight too!��

    ��Yes, I know. But just look at them, they don��t know what to do. They need someone to rely on and to guard them in case one of those thugs there sneaks past us. This is your chance to prove yourself,�� John answered, quickly distracted by the first pirates with light ragged clothes and rusty chipped sabers that made their way onto the ship. ��Please!��

    Her hands turned white at the knuckles from her strong grip at the rapiers as she snarled. ��Fine, but don��t you dare die on me! I don��t want to clean up your mess.��

    John smirked back. ��We��ll see who cleans up who''s mess.��

    With the enemies coming closer, she ran back to collect the crew and sent them inside. Slightly distracted, his eyes following the movement of all the crewmen, the shouting voice of the pirate in front of John came to a surprise. Double stepping back by instinct, he drew his sword ready to strike the man down, however Larson came in faster. His Rapier striking like lightning at the knees of the pirate, severing the limb atwine. Leaving him to suffer and struggle on the deck. ��Hey now, don��t want you to die to some small fry there,�� Larson chuckled.

    John clicking his tongue at the scene that has played before his eyes he kicked aside the pirate on the ground, the thump of it even over sounding the noise of the steam hose. ��Shush, now, there is more incoming!��

    Three enemies quickly surrounded them in a triangle. Forced to stand with their backs facing one another while John counted. ��Three, two-��

    ��Now!�� Larson said, thrusting his rapier, visibly cutting through the steamy mist. John and him both went for the invaders to their left, dodging their swashbucklers with a duck, cutting at their legs. Two falling, one left. Charging at John while his back was open, a whistle resounded from John. Not a natural one, but one that reminded of a water cooker overheating. In an instant, John lifted his left foot, tiptoeing on his right foot as the propulsion of the steamworks blade spins him. Full turn towards the attacker, once again chopping off a leg. Still tumbling on the slippery wet surface of deck, John caught ground by ramming his sword into the wood as the next batch of attackers came to have their go at them.

    Larson scratched his rapier along the floor, and quickly used it to scrape up the water at his attacker��s face, causing the pirate to flinch and suddenly fall to the floor as the rapier pierced his legs.

    John at a defensive stance, his sword held tightly with both hands in front of him, he parries the incoming slash,turning his blade past the pirate��s hilt and slashing up the wrist. Sidestepping the attacker from his right, getting behind the man who was screaming in pain over his bleeding wrist, John kicked back at the achilles heel to make the pirate fall to the ground while striking down his sword like a guillotine at the stretched out arm of the attacker who was to his right. Losing his sword arm, the pirate stumbled aside, cowering in pain.

    The pirate to his feet, still struggling with the bleeding at his wrist, now had John��s blade right above and between his eyes. The pirate��s eyes closing, aware of his fate, John raises the sword and cuts off the man��s left leg instead of going for the kill. Shouting and screaming in agony. ��Why didn��t you just finish me off?��

    ��Simple,�� John said with a smirk. ��You aren��t worth me shedding my no-kill policy. If you bleed out however, well that��s your problem. Not mine.��

    Backing off to Larson, he is asked. ��Going for the legs too, huh?��

    ��I��d rather not kill them if I have the option of just making them surrender like that,�� John answered with an exhausted voice.

    In the few minutes of the invasion, both of them started to show fatigue. The heat of the steam and having to fight at night drained their strength. While some of the pirates continued to brawl with the two of them, the others started to explore the ship further to scavenge. Busy with the battle, John and Larson accidentally let a few of the pirates sneak past them. The thugs ran to the doors that lead inside the ship. When suddenly an explosion, followed by a quake of the ship, sounded.

    ��The bastards are firing their cannons at us again!�� The Captain said, fighting off the stray fighters that managed to find their way to him.

    Inside the storage quarter, Aaron and the Captain��s daughter managed to keep the crew together and safe and were soon met by the exploring scum that made their way inside. She pushed Aaron back to aid the crew as she stepped up. In a cross, she drew her swords, her rapiers which she held loosely facing down.

    ��What��s this? A coward crew and only one man to protect ��em?�� One of the Pirates said, aiming his rusty blade forward. ��Have at ��em and let none survive!��

    Her right blade pointing to the rum barrels next to Aaron, she shouted. ��Let it roll!��

    Seeing the pirates standing closeby, he and one of the bulkier crewmen took the barrel and gave it a heavy push. Falling to its side, it rolled toward her and the pirates.

    Watching in suspense, they were surprised to see her, which everyone still thought was a man, jump over the rolling barrel as she swiped her blade at it, letting the alcohol spew out from the inside pressure. It didn��t have enough force to quite reach the men, but the spewing liquid still covered them in rum. Not minding it, some licking it off their own face, they went after her.

    In allegro, her feet danced along as her arms moved in her own rhythm to parry, and swipe. Little over a dozen men surrounded her, yet none could land a hit. Tiptoeing from left to right, she went to parry with her left and a thrust with the right rapier. Moving forward, in a pirouette, a flurry of thrusts chewed its way through their parries and eventually into their organs.

    ��That��s like ballet,�� Aaron thought out loud in awe. ��Without knowing the steps and her rhythm, they probably won��t know how to deal with this fast paced flurry.��

    Step by step, she backed off toward the corner opposite of Aaron. Using the pause after each rotation to briefly check her surroundings, she saw the crates which were stacked up and many more barrels.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    While only few had been downed already, she jumped backwards with one leg, landing on top of the crate behind her with both her feet. Ramming her sword into the crate next to her, she flung it at her attackers right before jumping yet again onto another crate which was higher up. Aaron saw the gas lamps on the ceiling above them and understood what she was going for and tried to buy her time by letting the crew roll more barrels at the enemy. In waves of three, the barrels rolled but were stopped by the men��s swashbucklers who had expected the attack but unnoticed the swordsman jumped off the crate in a pirouette, cutting away the pipes that held the lamp to the ceiling on that side of the room. Landing on a barrel and hopping from one to another, back her crew, the lamp fell down on the pirates, the glass shattering and the flames rushing out. Now aware of her plan, the pirates tried to run away but the flames were too fast. Following the alcohol which soaked into their clothes, they were slowly burning away, only leaving behind their final screams.

    In excitement and exhaustion, she shouted aloud. ��Hey now! How��s it feel to be defeated by a woman you clumps of charcoal?�� Jumping and dancing in joy on the spot, she left her crew in surprise.

    ��Woman?�� Some began to wonder. ��I thought he was the son?��

    Her cheer stopped as she heard their muttering and saw their piercing eyes, sharper than her sword. Her mouth opened as if trying to say something, but her throat suddenly dried up in the trouble.

    ��Oh will you unthankful idiots stop it already?�� Aaron said in a loud voice. ��This woman, albeit in a surprise to me too, just saved our lives and this is how you treat her? As a man she was a hero and now she is just a sore in your eye��s? Have you no shame at all?��

    The muttering silencing on the spot, some looking down, some into the air.

    ��Why, what��s this? It seems you turned my men into a barbeque, how very rude of you,�� a man of towering height entered through the open door through which the pirates initially entered too. In both his hands he held a large axe, it��s bladed head alone had the size of a gull��s wing span. Several holes along the edges of it and a flexible pipe coming out of its handle and leading behind his back where he carried a large double canister gas tank system which Aaron recognized from John��s early builds.

    Moving forward, each step sounded like that of an elephant while the man before them was not only tall but also muscular, equipped with heavy steel armour and a ragged black coat.

    ��What a shame,�� his dark eyes looked at the cowering men. ��While those two have the joy of dealing with the pests outside, I have to kill off a bunch of little shits.��

    The female fencer turned around, facing him with both her swords. ��I��m afraid I can��t allow that. This is my crew and I will protect them!��

    ��Wait miss-�� Aaron turned to warn her.

    ��I know! This is one of the leaders that my father spoke about, but nevertheless I can��t just stand around and let him slaughter us.��

    ��That isn��t what I meant to say, or at rather not all. I wanted to ask for your name, so we know just who is saving us,�� he smiled.

    Surprised, she looked at him and smiled back. ��My name? It��s Taine and you��d better remember it after I save your butts!��

    ��Aww how adorable. Are you done yet with your chit chat or can we finally get to the fight?�� the tall man said. ��Here I come!��

    Long steps, he ran straight at her with his axe close to his right. Suddenly the sizzling and whistling of the steamworks weapon shrieked through the room as he swung it swiftly. The propulsion steam came out of one half of the double edged axe. Cleaving right above her head, she backed of with short leaps to gain distance but he quickly caught up.

    Outside, on the deck, both John and Larson dealt with the mercenary pirates and before them stood two men. One short with with a stubble beard and rough hair holding a stumpy broadsword and the other at average height with a bald head holding a lance. Both their weapons were tied to pipes which lead to the pressure tanks on their backs while they too wore black coats.

    ��You really did a number on our men,�� the swordsman says as he looks around him. ��Ah well, they were all convicts anyway.��

    The other man next to him chuckles. ��Then let��s get started, shall we?��

    On that mark, they each chose a target and pincered them. The swordsman came after John while the lancer went for Larson. Trying to not be surrounded, they turned the position around, splitting up to fight one on one.

    ��Steamworks versus Steamworks,�� the pirate swordsman said while lifting his broadsword defensively before him like a shield. ��Let��s see who��s is better!��

    Two steps forward, the stumpy swords propulsed at John who had taken on a defensive stance, holding his sword aimed at the opponent but ready to react. As the enemies sword came from the top right, John parried the swing in an instant, dashed toward the enemy and used the momentum for a horizontal attack.

    Quickly stepping back, the broadsword came flat side before the enemy to shield him from the slash. Both attacks having been parried, they stepped back to position.

    ��Just as I thought. Your style is reactionary. You wait for a move from the opponent to parry it and use the opportunity to attack, very basic if I might say,�� the pirate remarked.

    ��Not quite,�� John said. ��But I don��t want to pop your illusion!��

    This time the roles were switched, John went to the offensive with an upward angled horizontal cut, trying to get past the shield. As the broadsword��s steam propulsion allowed the enemy to move into position to block the attack, John didn��t connect and used the momentum to let it straighten above his head, turned the blade facing down and used his own propulsion to instantly cut vertically. The steam��s whistle was a giveaway for the enemy but he couldn��t fully parry the attack. John��s sword clashing into the edge of the broadsword, it managed to cut into the shoulder of the pirate before being swung away.

    Opposite to them, the lance wielder and Larson have yet to make a move other than stepping around each other. Each looking for an opening.

    ��A normal weapon like your rapier can��t possibly defeat a steamworks weapon,�� he said, pressing a button on the handle of the lance. The large cone shaped lance began to blow steam through the holes evenly distanced on the multipart lance.

    ��A lance made of several parts,�� Larson thought as he analyzed the weapon steadily while stepping out of it��s range. ��A tip with three blades, from the bottom up. The middle seems to be three separate disks with steam propulsion holes which can spin independently and the back end is a large disk that acts as a shield.��

    ��Not bad,�� Larson remarked. ��However it��s nothing I can��t beat!��

    With fast steps he circled around the pirate to get into his blind spot and dashed in for a lunge. To his surprise however, the pirate easily turned around with the lance spinning. As his rapier got into touch with the spinning segments it was repelled. A whistle sounded, steam rushed out of the shield like disk at the back, propelling it forward while the lance extended between each disk. The bladed tip quickly found purchase above Larson��s shoulder, spinning it��s blades and digging into it. With a quick reaction he swiped the lance away with his rapier, succeeding.

    ��It��s so light,�� Larson said, walking back to gain distance. ��I see.��

    The pirate stood in wonder as he heard his opponent talk. ��This baby can do more than just that, you know?��

    Aiming the lance at Larson, the disks began to spin and pause, spin and pause, several times. Observing the mechanism, Larson saw the three extra holes in the disks which weren��t part of the propulsion system.

    ��Those are barrels!�� Larson shouted, just barely sidestepping to the left as small bullets shot out of the lance like a gatling. Two grazed his upper right arm and leg.

    ��So I can��t get close to it and I can��t keep my distance either, not bad,�� he snickered. ��You aren��t the only one with a fancy weapon though.��

    Again, he circled around the pirate into the blind spot to go for a lunge. Just like before, the spinning disks easily reflected his strike but with a grin he used his left hand to pull the handguard full circle. At the starting shaft of the blade, a small tube appeared. Next to his index finger was a small lever now as well, his blade aimed at the shield disk, he pulled the trigger.

    ��Let��s prove my idea!�� Larson shouted as the explosion left the barrel tube.

    A bullet flew out of the barrel, digging into the shield and piercing it straight through, shooting into the lancer��s shoulder. In shock, he tried to step back but it didn��t stop there. In the moment of shock, Larson ran to his back and took aim.

    ��So that��s what his weapon��s gimmick is, an actual gunpowder pistol.�� John said while trading blows with the broadsword wielding pirate.

    ��If you think you can look away, then you are wrong!�� John��s opponent said, going for three consecutive horizontal slashes, abusing the stream propulsion.

    ��Damn, he��s got so much pressure left compared to me,�� John thought, dodging ever so slightly. His short and coat being cut. ��If I had to guess, he still has about a dozen usages left, while I have one or maybe two more depending on how well I can pull this off.��

    As John backed off, evading the attacks, he counted down. ��Eleven, ten, nine.�� While walking backwards he stumbled over a bottle, falling flat onto his back. ��Crap!�� he yelled out. The enemy��s sword came like a meteor down at him as he just managed to hold his sword between him and the attack. Holding it at the front of the blade and at the grip, he struggled. His breathing became heavy and he felt his muscles failing any second now from the pressure.

    ��Get crushed already you piece of garbage!�� the pirate said, increasing the propulsion on his blade, trying to push through John��s sword.

    ��Three, two...one!�� At the end of the mark he flexed his right leg and kicked it up, his boot hitting against the pirate��s elbow.

    The pirate pulling back, John stood up using his legs as leverage to flip himself up. Still in motion, John tried to step forward and went for a vertical slash but only saw his enemy disappear in a cloud of steam.

    Looking around in confusion he saw Larson still fighting and currently aiming his pistol at the lancer. As the lance began to spin and release a thick cloud of steam John smelled something odd. Something he remembered but couldn��t quite point down.

    ��Go ahead and shoot, I dare ye!�� the lancer shouted.

    Larson��s finger tensing to pull the trigger, John finally remembered it. ��Stop, don��t shoot!��

    In the second of hesitation, the lancer laughed and disappeared into the thick steam.

    ��Damn it Johnathan! Why did you make me stop?�� Larson swiped his sword at John and then pointed it down. ��I would��ve had him!��

    ��No you wouldn��t, let me show you.��John picked up the bottle that he stumbled over, still sealed with a cork but empty. ��Do you have those smoke bombs with you that you used last time?��

    ��S-sure? Why?�� Larson wondered, handing him a few.

    ��You will see,�� John said, swinging the open bottle a bit and then carefully placing the bombs inside before sealing it with the cork again. ��Now all I need to do is throw it up against the mast.��

    Turning around, aiming and finally throwing it up high, the bottle hit the mast. Not splintering, but triggering the smoke bombs inside. In a flash, a dampened explosion could be heard, blackening the inside of the bottle. When it dropped on the floor, it bursted into hundreds of pieces.

    ��This steam isn��t just regular steam, it has a high concentration of hydrogen. A noticeably high amount of it,�� John said.

    ��What? How did you even notice it?�� Larson��s voice peaked high.

    ��I noticed the smell was odd, that��s how,�� John answered.

    ��Hydrogen doesn��t have an odor, what are you talking about?��

    ��That��s where you are wrong, it smells a bit different from air. If you��ve worked with steamworks as long as me, you��d know,�� John crossed his arms in a bragging motion.

    ��Sure you do, now back to topic Mr. Dogsnout, where did those thugs go?��

    To the right of them, where the ship was still docked, they heard two voices. ��Thugs? That is so rude, don��t you think? At least call me Lan,�� said the swordsman. ��An�� me Ken,�� said the lancer.

    Larson and John looked at each other in confusion. ��Shouldn��t it be the other way around?�� John asked, tapping on his pressure tank ever so slightly. Larson noticed his sign and shrugged in response to the question and nodded before they both took up their sword again.

    Then, with a heavy kick and a metallic break, the door to the storage room behind them broke open and dense steam escaped. In the entrance all they could see was a very tall and faint silhouette.

    Who is standing in the steam and how will John and Larson continue to fight the Pirates in the cloak of steam? We will see next time on Steam��s Shadow!

 Steams Shadow Chapter 16: Sweeping Claws

    Not long before the door opened behind John and Larson, a battle ensued between Tain, the daughter of the Captain, and one of the pirate leaders who wields an axe.

    Tain��s crew, including Aaron, watched the fight, trying to keep up with the speed of her steps and the pirate��s strength. Each flurry of attacks seemed meaningless against his armour while his quick reactions made it hard for her to stay within range to strike. Hit and run. Once more she tried to step behind the towering man but merely got to see his pressure tank and the pipe hanging out of it. She was caught. The axe��s propulsion turned him around to cleave at her. As she was unable to dodge, she tried shielding the attack with her rapiers, leading the sword in her left to be snapped in half.

    Swiftly retreating a couple of steps, she saw a rusty old scimitar left on the ground from one of the pirates.

    Her opponent��s face in anger, knowing what she was about to do, he marched to her to strike. She dodged, adding to his rage.

    ��I hate mice like you! Constantly on the run!�� he shouted, spit frothing out of his mouth.

    While she continued to dodge his attacks, Aaron observed calmly. His eyes focused from one point to the other. The enemy��s armour, weapon, pipe, pressure tank and finally he had found a small weak spot. ��He may be mobile for being heavily armoured but his shoulders and limb joints are exposed. Merely covered in light cloth to allow movement,�� he thought.

    Reaching to his waist, he opened up his pouch of knifes. He didn��t have too much training but his favorite sport had been darts. In his inexperience, Aaron had hoped that they wouldn��t be that much different when he bought them. Now, however, he was starting to worry. ��Can I even hit him like this?��

    Carefully pulling out one of the knives, his right hand shivering as he tried to aim, Aaron waited for a calm moment in the pirate��s movement to throw.

    Tain saw him awaiting an opening but had trouble trying to make her enemy to stand still until she noticed a little oddity. ��He��s O legged!��

    With little run-up she approached him head on. Sizzling steam made the axe cleave at her right as she let herself fall. Her right leg spread forward, she used the momentum and the slimy wet floor to slide right through the gap between his legs, cutting with her swords into his ankles.

    The man tumbled as the stinging pain appeared in his left foot, as the right one had just barely been missed.

    In a quick motion, she got back onto her feet and backed off for Aaron to take his shot.

    He flung his arm with a rapid flick of the wrist to throw the knife.. The knife flew, spinning and hitting right at the man��s shoulder. Albeit it was not with the top of the blade, it was the butt end that hit and bounced off.

    The man��s attention now switching to Aaron, who swiftly grabbed another knife, he took a step forward with his injured foot and flinched from the pain in it.

    ��This is by far the most difficult job we had in a long, long time,�� the pirate said.

    ��Job?�� Aaron thought out loudly, audible enough for the pirate to hear him.

    ��Yes, what do you think we are? Actual pirates? Hell no!�� he shouted. ��I, Tomahs and my brothers Lan and Ken we are the leaders of this sabotaging ship!��

    ��Sabotage�� I see, so that is what��s going on. You don��t destroy ships to kill and to scavenge, you-��

    ��We come with orders by big industries who want their competition to lose a shipment or two, to win on the market,�� the pirate finished Aaron��s thought.

    ��Why would you be so heavily armed if you really just want to destroy the cargo?�� Tain asked.

    ��Simple, really. It��s because we do enjoy shedding some blood.�� His tongue wiping over his lips, he ran forward, bearing the pain in his foot, and went after Tain.

    ��Ten more,�� Aaron thought as he took aim.

    The fire which took care of the pirates earlier still burned strongly and spread along the walls and barrels. Explosions halted both pirate and daughter to take cover. Rum barrels which caught fire began to explode, one by one, spreading the fire even further.

    Taking the opportunity, Aaron went for another throw, this time aiming for the neck of the pirate which was also poorly guarded, most likely since he was big enough to not have to worry about it. Throwing it at a high angle, it made a leap and spun before implanting it��s blade right between his neck and shoulder into the collarbone. Although it missed, Aaron took it well. ��Yes!�� Aaron shouted out childishly before coughing to return serious. ��Nine.�� he said as he aimed the next knife.

    Tomahs was visually annoyed and enraged, marching up the the crew, mainly to get close to Aaron. His mind distracted, he didn��t notice Tain running up behind him and striking at his pressure tank, her rapier piercing into it. The man knew, and grinned. The rapier was stuck, and the hot pressurized steam came rushing out of the tank, right along her right arm and face. Desperately trying to pull out her sword, she gave up after the painful heat had burned her skin to blisters and fell onto the ground, screaming in pain.

    Aaron��s eyes in anger, he threw the knife right at the pirates head, however missed and merely made a cut into his cheek.

    ��I��ve had enough of your knives!�� the pirate said, taking a step forward and trying to swing his axe but a loud explosion sounded, halting the pirate, eventually falling sideways with blood flowing out of his head.

    At the backdoor of this provision storage room stood a short old man with a long, yet slim, gun. A cloud of steam, released from the shot, hovered above the old man. Seeing the woman on the floor, he ran over to look at her, the light revealing his silhouette to be that of the Captain. ��No, no, no! Not like this!��

    The crew breathed slightly and ran up to the woman in scars and burn marks. Aaron acted quickly and lowered his body, back facing at her. ��Get her on my back! If I can carry her to our room I can patch her up. I have medical supplies in there so hurry!��

    The crew helped to carefully put her on his back, his hands holding up her legs next to his waist as he leaned forward to make sure she wouldn��t fall back.

    ��Can you really help her?�� the Captain said desperately with sweat and tears running down his face. ��I never intended my revenge to make her suffer like this as well!��

    ��Your revenge?�� Aaron shook his head. ��Nevermind that, we don��t have time.��

    As the only way into their cabins was through the deck, Aaron kicked open the moldy front door. The fire��s smoke left above his head through the door ahead of him as he slowly walked out. He noticed that he was being watched and as the vision cleared up he saw both John and Larson before him, accompanied by two people in similar clothes to the man they just defeated. ��Aaron?�� John said. ��Thank god you are alright but����

    ��It��s fine, can you cover me while I bring her to our cabin?�� Aaron asked, watching the pirate leaders.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ��We don��t have a choice, do we?�� Larson said, readying his blade.

    ��Go ahead and make sure she��s alright, we��ve got this!�� John reassured but his eyes were quickly distracted by something above him. ��Must��ve been birds.��

    As Aaron hurried inside, John and Larson were ready to fight but the pirates seemed to be put off. ��Hey Ken. If that man exited that place�� does that mean?��

    ��Yes, Lan. They defeated Tomahs!��

    The lancer raised his weapon, disks rotating and bullets flying at John and Larson who quickly split up, Larson right and John left. Digging themselves into the wooden surface, the bullets spread out in a large cone, still barely grazing the two short-term allies. Their clothes heavily soaked and tattered by the bullet storm were quickly cast off mid-run.

    The mist of steam began to clear as they tried to pincer the two pirates. The bullet storm stopped, the disks just slowly spinning until they were halted by friction. Ken grabbed at his weapon in despair, not knowing why it had suddenly stopped but with one quick look at his pressure gauge he knew. ��Something is wrong, I��m out of pressure!��

    In reaction, Lan turned a wheel on his backpack pressure tank and detached a bendable pipe which lead all the way to the ship.

    ��Something must be wrong with our boilers, even our cloak of steam is fading!�� Ken said.

    Before they had time to see what could��ve happened to their boilers, they were already surrounded and attacked by Larson and John.

    ��Now we seem to be on equal power, isn��t that right?�� John said to the sword wielder with a big grin as he swung his sword haphazardly.

    ��Not quite true,�� Lan said, his sword bursting out steam to parry attack. ��Unlike my partner, I didn��t use my pressure yet!��

    Slowly separating the two brothers, John and Lan went off to the left half of the ship, clashing their swords all while Larson and the lancer played a game of lunge. Each of them trying to lunge and dodge at the other. Larson��s movements had slowed down and his face of sweat and condensate began to feel prickly and cold.

    Not long after they began to battle, the steam completely vanished and all that was left was an icy cold sea air. Yet, each of them felt like something was around them, watching them. John eventually noticed two bright red dots illuminating under the clear sky through which the moon shone brightly.

    Knowing what to do, John stood still. His sword held back, the tip pointing at the pirate like as if he was going for a full out lunge. Not letting this opening pass by, the pirate pressed the button on his handle as hard as he possibly could and swung his propulsed sword at the detective. ��Only got one shot at this,�� John thought as he stepped toward the pirate, using the last steam pressure he had left to block the attack, sliding on the slimy wet floor. Both of them were locked by the two opposing forces of the swords. Screeching sounded from the metal as both of their blades dented at the sheer force of the clash.

    Then, like a cold breeze, the crimson eyes approached the pirate who felt the threat from behind him and quickly turned around, the pirate swinging his sword at it, his back facing John who used the momentum of the remaining propulsion force to get a cut into the tank. Moving aside, the steam forced its way through the small cut and blasted open a larger hole.

    The enemy who the pirate swung his sword against was none other that Matt. The boy, as nimble as he is, ducked down, extended his claws in a sizzle and used the glove��s thrusters to perform an uppercut. The three claws tore their path through the man��s right half of the face. Gauging his eye and leaving him in devastating pain.

    ��Nice timing,�� John said in a chuckle as he stretched his limbs. ��To be fair I kinda forgot you were here, but let me guess. You messed with their boiler a few minutes ago?��

    Quickly jumping to John��s side, Matt retracted his claws. ��Yes. It was as easy as running over the sail mast and jumping over to their ship. Most of the pirates were already gone since they fought with you, all I had to do was go down, turn a lever and disconnect the pipes.��

    ��Not bad. You jumped in at the right time!�� John said, hitting Matt��s shoulder in gratulations.

    The pirate groveled on the ground, turning around. His left eye trying to catch a glimpse at his attacker. ��Red eyes,�� he laughed. ��I see. So you are a slave, or rather an assassin,�� the pirate said under his breath. ��He bought you and makes you fight, how pitiful.��

    ��I am not a slave,�� Matt growled. ��He didn��t buy me either, he saved me and treats me like family. I am merely returning some of his kindness by working for him.��

    ��Alright then boy, then do me a favour and finish me!�� the pirate said, his unsightly face aimed at Matt.

    John and Matt looked at him in surprise.

    ��With only half my vision left and having been defeated, I serve no purpose now.�� He coughed. ��I wouldn��t get another mission like this after such a failure,�� he said.

    Matt walked up to him, claws extended and swung toward the pirate. Aiming for his jacket. He tore a long strip out of it, kneeled down and tied the pirate��s hands tightly.

    ��We don��t kill if we don��t have to,�� John said and looked out for Larson��s fight. ��We aren��t like you people after all.��

    Watching the battle of lance and rapier unfold, John noticed that Larson had finally gotten the upper hand, since his weapon was by far lighter than the lance, it gave Larson a dexterous advantage. One pull of the trigger on the hilt was enough to finish the fight with a gunshot through the heart.

    ��You know, you should be glad I killed you,�� Larson said, sitting down, huffing. ��I only kill those who fought well enough to even make me use the gun.��

    As he leaned over to see if the pirate was listening, he saw the dead and open eyes. His hand sliding over them, closing them to leave him in peace.

    After the fighters caught their breath, they went inside to inform everyone of the won battle. The crew and men worked on putting out the fires and focused on the repairs while the Captain went back to the helm, setting sail to their destination.

    Hours passed by as they cleaned up and Aaron treated all the wounded. None of the pirates died, other than the one��s fried in the fire and those who were shot. Tumbling in slow steps was Tain, her face covered halfway in bandages along with her arm. The crew, together with John, Aaron, Matt and even Larson were called on deck as the Captain stood at the helm to hold a speech, or at least, one might call it that.

    ��To all of ye, I am sorry. From the deepest barnacles of my heart, I��m sorry. If ��t was not for my stupid attempt at revenge, we wouldn��t have had to fight this battle,�� he looked at the four fighters and then swept his eyes over to his daughter. ��You wouldn��t have been hurt.��

    Morning sun rising at everyone��s backs, they turned around to see the harbour right ahead as the Captain continued.

    ��As of today, I will leave this ship and the remaining crew to me daughter. ��Course, after she feels fit enough again. She fought one of them savages head on and risked ��er life to protect her crew. She did what I couldn��t do! So please accept ��er as the new capt��n!��

    A silence came after his little speech, eyes darting around in wonder until John stomped his right foot on the floor to shake everyone up. ��Aye,�� he shouted with a smirk only to be followed by a loud synchronized ��Aye!�� by the entire crew. In joy and cheers, covered by hugs she looked over at John with tears in her eyes, or at least the one that wasn��t covered by the bandages. As people began to roll out the remaining few barrels of rum, she stepped over to John, Aaron and Matt.

    ��Thank you so much, all of you! Had you not come here, then,�� she paused. ��Then we would have likely become shark food. If you should ever need my help, just send word and I will come to your aid to repay the favour!��

    John��s smirk grew bigger, ��I��ll hold you to it!��

    Early in the morning, when they finally arrived, they unloaded the cargo the detective group could finally lay foot on solid ground again. After they handed over the pirates to the police, the three of them wanted to thank Larson for the hard work, but he was nowhere to be found. Standing before the ship again, they watched the repairs going forth.

    ��You know,�� Aaron said to Matt and John. ��I can live with you making steam and junk at home much more than I can live with being the sea, it is really tiring.��

    The two of them just replied in a relieved nod.

    ��Let��s head ho-�� John realized a small problem mid sentence. ��-me. Oh, crap. We need to use the ship again to get home don��t we?��

    With one big sigh, the three of them waited out the day to get back home and head right into their next mission.

    Next time on Steam��s Shadow, the group have to clear a case of a cold blood murder!

 Chapter 17: In Cold Blood

    The icy wind rustled the fur of our detectives�� hoods. The snow had crusted their creme white winter coats, and the three men who stood atop the great wall fortress, with binoculars in hand kept their eyes open for a special guest. John turned the brass gear to move the lense when he spotted black silhouettes appearing in the horizon. They saw a foot squad of a dozen, lead by a man in a black winter cloak.

    ��We should hurry inside for the greeting,�� John said as he put away the binoculars.

    ��I still don��t understand why you out of all people were given the mission to be that man��s guard,�� Aaron sighed.

    Matt jumped ahead of the two and waited at the door to the warm insides of the fortress. ��Come on! We��ll catch a cold if we stay out here for too long!��

    ��Yes, yes,�� John and Aaron said almost simultaneously as they got inside and closed the large steel door behind them. John held a letter in front of Aaron��s face.

    ��This letter from the King clearly states that due to my characteristics, I am the perfect person for the job!�� John bragged with a smirk before he scratched his head in thought. ��Although I find it really odd that they didn��t hire a person with more experience in this field. I mean, me acting to protect an enemy general? That��s just insane.��

    As they went down the stairs, they saw the special guest and his squad enter, standing in front of three generals from the fortress who were dressed in blue coats. Aaron shushed John and Matt as they continued downwards. The guest in front raised a hand, signalling his squad to turn back and leave. As the gates closed behind them, the guest stood alone in front of the three generals.

    ��Welcome, General Waltfeldt!�� One of three old men dressed in blue coats greeted the guest. The blue coated general��s round physique and the twirled mustache was one of his prides as John got to learn a few days prior when he had arrived.

    ��General Michale, pleasure to meet you. Please, just call me Rowl; let us leave the formalities aside for this meeting, shall we?�� the young guest said, pulling back the black hood of the coat to reveal his sun pale face and short brown hair.

    ��If you want, then it shall be done...Rowl,�� said the second of the blue coats. A thin man with a defined face. His name was Jezza Mael.

    ��Please, follow us to the quarters where we will be staying at,�� the third blue coat said, a small man with merely a tuft of hair left on his head.

    ��Gladly, Mister Harvey,�� Rowl said. ��However, first, I believe I was assigned a neutral guard. Where would he be?��

    ��Right here, John said as they made their way carefully down the slippery stairs. ��I am Jonathan Sterling, pleased to meet you. These are my friends and assistants, Aaron and Matt,�� John pointed at them respectively. While Aaron and John removed their hoods, Matt chose to leave his on, hiding his white hair.

    During their walk to the quarters, they passed through long hallways decorated in large brass pipes through which whistling, rushing steam was heard. There were heaters for the inside of the entire fortress, and they could be found everywhere. Yet, Matt still chose to leave his hood on, even as the sweat ran down his face.

    When they arrived at their quarters, Rowl was shown around the giant wall, which acted as a defensive line to the northern territory of the Grey Kingdom, separating them from the northern White Kingdom had a large interior; part of it was this sector which had been cleared due to the arrival of the White Kingdom��s fresh general, Rowl.

    Three main chamber rooms had been accommodated to them; the first with three beds for John, Aaron and Matt, another one with three beds for the three generals and the last for Rowl. As this fortress was still a military base, the rooms were all rather small. The bathroom was opposite of the rooms. Around the corner was the kitchen and dining hall, however, all the way through, there was no soldier or personnel in sight.

    ��It is just like you asked for, we have relocated the soldiers from this area.�� Mister Harvey smiled to Rowl.

    Matt went off to his room to get changed while Aaron stepped into the kitchen to prepare a meal for the night.

    Sitting around a large table, the remaining five men began to discuss their meeting.

    ��As your intel surely let you know, my father, General Waltfeldt died of old age just recently. Since I am his son, the military suddenly gave me a promotion to General. But, unlike my father who wasted his life in war, I want us to end this bickering,�� Rowl said calmly.

    John listened silently as he had neither authority nor experience to add to the conversation.

    ��You must, of course, understand Rowl, that this war has been going for nearly half a century. The battle for land will not cease without a good reason,�� General Mael said with the corners of his mouth hanging low.

    ��I am fully aware of the circumstances, but don��t you believe it would be wise for both sides to lay down their weapons and be fine with what they have? Do our men really have to keep dying over a cold infertile land like this?�� Rowl gestures at the reinforced window, through which one could only see mounds of snow.

    While they continued to discuss, John found himself to be bored and made his way to his room where he found Matt still changing. Matt��s brown eye contacts reflected in the mirror as he brushed the wig in his hands and carefully covered his hair with a net, only to then put on the wig.

    ��You know you don��t have to hide yourself, right, Matt?�� John asked concerned as he leaned against the wall. ��If they have a problem with you, you know I will make them regret their words.��

    ��That is exactly why I am doing this,�� Matt said as he turned around with his short black wig fitting. ��I don��t want to cause trouble for anyone, simply because I know my appearance will cause them to think badly of you.��

    ��Of me?�� John asked with a boyish voice crack.

    ��Yes, of you. Remember back at the ship? That man thought you held me as a slave, against my will. I can��t blame him for that, because if it wasn��t the two of us, it probably would have been the case after all. Also, let��s not forget that I am still wanted because of what I did back then, so I have no choice.�� Matt put on his black scarf, looping it around his neck and over his shoulders, dressed in a black pullover and baggy pants.

    John sighed long and loud before he turned around and said, ��You don��t need to do anything. You are under my... no, our care and we will do anything to keep it that way.��

    By the time the two of them had entered the dining hall again, the four men at the table had  started to yell and speak loudly; hands smashed against the table and heads reddened in anger.

    Without hesitation John walked up, slammed his right boot on the table and shouted, ��Keep quiet already and start acting more professional, war is on halt outside for the next few days. So do not go starting a war inside of here now, you hear me?��

    They had every authority to complain to him, however, aware of their own behaviour and the urgency of the situation they chose to nod and calmly continue.

    ��If we are to stop the war, the White Kingdom needs to allow us passage through their country or to at least let us open trade routes through them. There are half a dozen countries whom we cannot trade with simply because your country is blocking the entire north,�� General Harvey said.

    ��You wish for open borders, then let us first sign a peace treaty. Afterwards, we can talk about further cooperation as it builds a stable ground for those matters,�� Rowl said.

    Matt sat down a few tables away from who he thought of as annoying and pulled out a set of cards, shuffled them, fanned out seven piles and an eighth deck of cards to draw from. Playing by himself to sort the deck in a game-like manner.

    The blonde detective��s stomach started to growl, John hurried to the kitchen, but was caught off guard when Aaron came out the door with plates and cutlery along with a tablecloth.

    ��Dinner is almost ready, so I will leave the cleaning and preparing of the table to you,�� Aaron said with his forehead in sweat and condensate from the cooking.

    Peeking inside the kitchen with very little patience, John was hit on the head by Aaron.

    ��What was that for?�� John muttered in pain, holding his head.

    ��Don��t just stand there like a child and help them prepare the table!�� Aaron shouted, pointing at the four men who were too unorganized to decide who does what.

    Only a few minutes later, after John had silenced the men again, Aaron came out with a large pot. ��Here��s the roast. I cut it in advance to make sure everyone gets their fair share,�� he said.

    Moments after, he brought a basket of fresh loaves of bread, bowls of salad and several sauces. As everyone began to place the food onto their white plates, Aaron also brought out glasses along with wine, water and juice before sitting down between John and Matt.

    Since the table was round, John also sat next to Rowl. Between Rowl and Matt sat the three blue coats.

    The chunky general went straight for the wine bottle and filled his glass whereas both John and Matt went for water. Aaron had glasses of both, water and wine, while the others had a small sip of wine as well. Only half an hour into the meal, it was time for something sweet. Thus, Aaron went into the kitchen to bring the cake as it just hit eight pm. Matt looked at the clock and stood up.

    ��Do you not want to at least wait for the cake?�� John asked, wondering why Matt wanted to pass up the chance when he knew that the boy was a sweet tooth.

    ��I don��t have all that much of an appetite; you can have my share if you want,�� Matt said as he brought away his dishes and said good night to the crowd before going to his room.

    ��So who��s the father?�� Rowl nudged at John in curiosity.

    ��None of us, he��s an orphan,�� John said silently.

    ��Oh,�� Rowl stuttered. ��I-I am really happy for you two.��

    Taking a while to understand what Rowl had just said, John laughed and replied with a stone cold tone, ��No. It��s not like that. The boy appeared on a case of mine and since my father had an orphanage himself, I took him in.��

    The plates of cake were put onto the table, which interrupted their conversation. Before starting the cake, General Michaele went to the bathroom, opposite of the sleeping rooms while General Harvey turned around to check his blood with a needle and small paper.

    ��No surprise,�� Mael said. ��He drank two bottles of wine on his own.�� He commented on Michaele.

    ��That said,�� Rowl stood up heading for the bathroom. ��Even water and juice can do the trick.��

    While the remaining men were finished with their cake, John asked Aaron in a whisper. ��Could you go and cover this one up?�� he said, pointing at the cake. ��He can have it for breakfast tomorrow.��

    ��Breakfast?�� Aaron sighed as he grabbed the plate. ��Fine, but only this once.��

    As Aaron headed for the kitchen, Rowl came back to eat his piece of the cake while General Harvey got up and headed to the bathroom. ��I��ll go check on that fat fool, he��s probably too drunk and fell asleep taking a dump.��

    Only moments after, he rushed back to the table, completely out of breath. ��He-he��s dead!��

    John glanced over to Aaron with a nod and like everyone, they rushed over to the bathroom, but John asked them to not enter for a second. Swiftly, he went to his room, opened the door and saw a light extinguish and a shuffled noise came from Matt��s bed. Paying it no attention, he flipped the lights, gas noticeably flowing through the pipes and being illuminated in the glass bulb on the ceiling. Wondering what Matt was doing, John quickly saw the book on the table next to Matt��s bed, wide open.

    ��What is it?�� Matt scratched the sand out of his eyes, not wearing the wig or contacts.

    ��A blue coat is dead in the bathroom, you need to get up and dress yourself,�� John said, pulling out the case from under the bed where he hid his sword. ��We might have some trouble incoming.��

    Matt, still tired and drowsy, slowly changed from his pajama while John equipped his sword to the belt. Together, within minutes, they came out and joined the concerned men outside the bathroom.

    ��Let��s go!�� John said, heading inside as the blue coats immediately rushed to the fallen General. John��s first breath was a disgusted one. It was damp inside and the bathroom consisted out of two different halves. One half was cabins with toilets, and the other was a large sink.

    ��Stop, don��t touch-�� John was too late as General Harvey already placed his fingers at the man��s throat. ��-him.��

    ��No pulse!�� General Harvey said in shock.

    ��Get away from him immediately. I will have a look at this myself,�� John said as the short General ran over to Rowl.

    ��This is your doing! You killed him!�� General Harvey said in a rush, his face glowing red.

    ��What? No!�� Rowl defended himself. ��Why should I have done that?��

    ��Your lies of peace were only so that you could kill us!�� General Harvey continued to yell until a metallic noise sounded and a blade dropped right before his nose.

    ��If you won��t shut up, the blade might not stop next time, General,�� John said, his sword drawn to divide Rowl from General Harvey. ��I need you all, and I mean all, to go into the dining hall and sit still while I take a look at this mess.��

    ��You��d have us sit in the same room as this murderer? He��s just waiting for another cha-�� General Harvey was suddenly silent as the whistling steam left the holes of John��s sword. ��Very well, we will go back and sit still.��

    ��Matt, Aaron, I��ll need you to keep an eye out for them. If anything happens, knock and tell me,�� John said, being replied with a nod by the two.

    Everyone left the room, the detective took a deep breath and got to work. He kept his eyes sharp to get a sense of what had happened. His first glances paced between the position of the corpse and the sink he lied in front of, as John kneeled down to inspect the corpse closely..

    ��His forehead is covered in blood,�� John thought out loud, carefully lifting the head to look closer. ��A fracture most likely.��

    Looking at the sink, a small blood mark was easily seen at the edge of the sink.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.��He might have hit his head right there as he fell, fell from what, though?��

    John pinched his eyes as viewed into the direction of the feet, which pointed at a toilet stall. He walked up to the door and opened it. The toilet wasn��t flushed and was left open. A smell of alcohol still resided in the damp stall. ��Must be where he sat,�� he mumbled to himself until he noticed that the stall door handle was just hanging. He tried lifting it, and with no resistance, it just fell back down again; the lock not even moving out. ��It broke,�� he said, closing the door and looking at the part of the wall where the lock mechanism would rest to keep it shut.

    ��The paint is chipped. Maybe that��s normal?��

    He went over to the stall next to this one to check the lock. ��No, the paint is still intact.��

    Checking the other stalls, he had the same result.

    ��Then would that would mean the door might��ve been forcefully opened. And that would explain the broken lock mechanism too.�� John thought and shook his head.

    He walked into a stall and closed it by first letting go of the handle, resting the first locking piece into the slot in the wall. Furthermore, he turned a circular knob below the handle, locking the door fully. ��This is the safety so that people from the outside don��t just accidentally walk in,�� he mumbled and opened the door again to walk out.

    ��I see, but now the question is if it is really as simple as that?��

    John paced around the bathroom and tripped, slipping on the slimy damp surface of the floor. He wanted to hold onto the wall for grip but his hand also slipped off of it, falling onto his knees. ��Damnit, this place really stinks, in more ways than one!��

    Looking back where he had tripped, he found a small groove in the wet surface of the wall and the floor. And with interest, he stood up and started inspecting the flooring around the dead man.

    ��Nothing but prints of shoes, yet no sliding grooves. Maybe it has filled in again?�� he wondered and leaned down to a closer look at the shoe prints. ��No, even if they were filled in, you��d still notice it.��

    Carefully tapping over to the head again, he put his fingers onto the man��s throat to check the pulse. He remembered one of the blue-coats doing that already, but John hadn��t checked it himself. No beat, nothing. Disappointed, he removed his hand fidgeted with them to think. ��It couldn��t just be an accident, right? That would be too...�� he noticed something slimy on his hands and paused his sentence. Looking at the fingers he had just used to check the pulse, he saw little blood.

    A rush of interest quickly made him take a closer look at the throat, where he could see a small point where blood came out of. In an instant, he stood and walked over to a stall, which from there he sloppily approached the sink. Just before he reached it, he slipped. Having caught himself just barely onto the sink, since he was prepared to trip. His body formed a sloped bridge from the sink to the floor, and out of curiosity he carefully lied down and quickly stood up.

    ��So that��s why, he tripped, and because of how he fell, he dropped onto the grooves created by the sliding of his shoes. Then this hole...�� John grinned.

    John made his way to the dining hall to inform them of his findings. Inside, Matt and Rowl were sitting only a meter away. Being bored and having nothing of interest to look at; Rowl remembered the boy wearing his winter coat and hoodie for the entire time until going to change. It was still fairly cold inside, despite the steam heating pipes all throughout the room, yet Matt sat there in nothing more but a black shirt, a scarf and baggy trousers.

    Rowl stared and thought, ��Isn��t he cold now? He seemed like he wanted to be warm at all costs before, but now����

    Matt felt observed, his skin forming goose bumps, and turned his back at Rowl. Matt��s eyes were reflecting in the light, giving off a slight red shimmer through the contact lenses.

    Now, even more interested, Rowl looked at the only place that wasn��t covered in clothes, the back of Matt��s head. The trims of the neck showed a few white hairs peeking through.

    ��Now I get it,�� Rowl said, moving over to the boy and whispering to him. ��Do you really need to hide who you are?��

    Surprised, Matt turning around in an instant with his eyes wide open. ��How do you know?��

    ��You probably put on your wig sluggishly when you got out of bed, right?�� Rowl said in a chuckle. ��Don��t worry, I won��t tell anyone.��

    Self-aware, Matt acted as if scratching the back of his head to tuck back the stray hairs. ��Why do you care?�� Matt asked.

    ��Why? Well, you just caught my attention, that��s all,�� he said and stared at the clear white ceiling. ��Now it makes sense why they took you in; John said you were an orphan, yet I never imagined this.��

    Matt didn��t pay any more attention, simply ignoring the man, waiting for John to return.

    Then, with everyone eagerly waiting and the blue-coats swinging side by side, their fingers rattling on the desk in impatience, the door opened. An innocent face with an impish smile was put on by John, who said in a happy tone, ��Now then, let��s see who the killer was!��

    Everyone silently following, on edge about the results, they walked into the bathroom.

    ��Now then, if I may ask, Aaron would you be so kind to go inside this toilet stall? Just close the door from inside please,�� John said, guiding Aaron inside and quickly stepping to the stall next to it. It was the stall with the broken lock.

    ��As you can see here, this stall has it��s lock broken,�� John fidgeted around with the handle and showed the chipped paint. ��It is likely that this was the stall that our dead General was in before he died.

    ��So then someone broke open the door and killed him, right?�� General Harvey said impatiently.

    John chuckled with a smirk, but quickly caught himself to get back to his innocent look. ��Seeing as how Mister Waltfeldt was the last one inside this room before General Michaele��s death, I would like you to try and break open the door where Aaron is currently in.��

    ��So you also believe that I murdered the general?�� Rowl said in a serious tone that was quickly calmed down when John squinted his right eye at him. ��Fine then.��

    Rowl positioned himself in front of the door, both his hands gripping the handle and pulled. Pausing for a second, taking a deep breath, he pulled again with more force and slipped on the wet floor, catching himself by holding onto the handle.

    ��One last try,�� John said. ��Give it your all.��

    In a nod, sweat dripping from his forehead, Rowl put his foot against the wall next to the lock and pulled again. This time with more force and noises of exhaustion and pain leaving his mouth, a crack sounded and the door was quickly broken open.

    ��That just proves he is capable of breaking open the door!�� General Harvey hollered.

    ��True, he can indeed break open the door if he really goes for it. However, if you noticed, he slipped at first and had to use his foot as counter weight,�� John grinned.

    ��So? What of it?�� the General barked again.

    ��Look at this stall over here: no boot prints can be found on the wall and even if he was to try and clean it off,�� John grabbed a towel from the sink and wiped at the wall. ��It leaves behind these slimy trails. Meaning, the door couldn��t have been broken from the outside without leaving behind anything.��

    The blue-coats were surprised, stepping back.

    ��Aaron, you can come out again,�� John said, now pointing at the corpse. ��From what I could find, the victim most likely hit his head on the sink and died afterwards.��

    ��Afterwards?�� Aaron asked. ��Wouldn��t you be fine without saying afterwards?��

    ��Matt, would you be so kind as to close the bathroom door?�� John said and kneed down to the corpse. ��Because of how disgustingly humid it is in here, it is easy to trip. As we know, the man was drunk and probably didn��t remember to open the stall door again. He rushed, not even flushing the toilet, using the weight of his body, he broke through and tripped, hit his head on the sink and fell unconscious,�� John said, gesturing at the blood on the sink and the corpse��s forehead.

    General Harvey stepped back, towards the door.

    ��When news arrived, we all came inside and General Harvey was the first to check the pulse of the man, despite knowing full well of the regulations. Or at least, as a General, you should know that you aren��t supposed to touch anything on a crime scene without consent,�� the detective stood up and rummaged through General Harvey��s coat pockets, pulling out a small case.

    ��I��m diabetic,�� the General flustered.

    ��Oh, I��m aware of what this is, and if I am correct,�� John paused to open up the case. ��There��s a needle, a few cotton balls and blood test paper strips inside.��

    He pulled out the needle and looked at it.

    ��Where do you generally poke your skin to do check your blood, General?�� John asked.

    General Harvey opened his right hand to show the small dots left behind by the needle on his fingers. Sweat ran down the short man��s head as John pulled him over to the corpse and held his hand to compare between those holes and the hole at the throat of the corpse.

    ��Aaron, please hold this man in place, Matt please go find something like a rope or handcuffs if you can find any. General Harvey, you are under arrest for murder on a fellow general of yours,�� John announced and handed the man over to Aaron.

    ��What? But how can you be so certain, why would I kill my own friend? Isn��t it more likely that it was an accident?�� The short man struggled.

    ��I also thought it was an accident before, but when I found that needle hole, it was all I needed. It was fresh enough to still make him bleed. So, to sum it up, the man wasn��t dead when you checked his pulse. He was just unconscious from being drunk and having hit his head on the sink. But when you checked the pulse while we were distracted, you jabbed the needle into his throat and killed him by poisoning him,�� John said.

    ��Poison? Why is there suddenly poison involved?�� General Mael wondered.

    ��Simple really, it was a tranquilizer,�� John showed the small diabetic��s case again and held up a bottle of liquid. ��This right here is used to make the sting of the needle not hurt so much, but it is also a strong tranquilizer if used in overdose, isn��t that right Aaron?��

    ��Indeed, it does. We had many cases back when I worked as a doctor, where people would accidentally numb their entire hand by accident due to overdose. They are starting to make different painkillers for it now, but some people are especially prone to flinching and still prefer the stronger painkillers,�� Aaron replied.

    ��As for why you would kill your own ally, that is simple too, of course. You wanted to give all of the fault to Rowl, blaming him and resume the war,�� John added and walked over to Rowl as Matt came back with a rope to tie the murderer��s hands. ��I ask of you, Rowl, to head back to your Kingdom as fast as possible. Even with this amount of proof, it is likely they will use their prejudice to still blame you.��

    ��Indeed,�� Rowl turned around with a sigh. ��Thank you for all your hard work. If you need anything from me in the future, just tell me...well, of course, if the war should ever calm down enough to allow travelling.��

    Rowl headed out in a snow jeep and returned to the White Kingdom. John had one of the guards in a different area of the wall ride with him and his company in a carriage. Steam powered cars wouldn��t have worked in the cold weather of the north. They had quickly packed their things and rode through the night. John had handed over the leftover piece of cake to Matt, who ate it on the way home. Hours passed until they finally left the snow behind them and headed for the next prison. Once they arrived, the carriage abruptly stopped and the guard shouted out, ��Sir!��

    Wondering what happened, they got out of the carriage and were shocked to see a man in grey short hair and purple robes stand before them. His eyes were gold just like the many rings on his fingers, ��Detective Sterling, what brings you here on this night?��

    Quickly, everyone bowed. Aaron even pushed Matt to lower his head while only John stood. ��Your majesty, I should ask the same,�� John said.

    ��My, my,�� the man chuckled. ��Can��t the King come out to take a look at what he has built? Well, to be honest, I already had intel that a murder would be planned over at the wall where you were. Hence why I sent you out there.��

    ��I see,�� John said, pushing forward General Harvey. ��This man is to be put under arrest for murder on a fellow general, Your Majesty.��

    ��I see,�� the King said with a fiendish grin on his face, quickly reaching over to the back of his robe. He grabbed a pistol from a small pocket and held it right between the eyes of the general.

    ��My lord! Please, this is all wrong, I-��

    ��Silence!�� the King shouted and looked over to John who was standing almost paralyzed. ��You are sure that this man is guilty of murder on his own ranks?��

    ��Yes,�� John stuttered.

    ��Very well.�� The King tightened the grip on his pistol.

    ��Please don��t do this! You were the one who told me to-��

    An explosion sounded, smoke left the barrel and blood sprayed over the ground. The general dropped dead. The King remained unfazed and started to clean his pistol.

    ��Your Majesty, why did you execute him?�� John asked, his throat drying up.

    ��Why? For no other reason than you stating his guilt, of course! If he really did as you claim, then the traitor did not deserve to be kept alive.��

    ��I see,�� John muttered, his fist tightening in regret. ��Very well then, we will be off now. My job here is done.��

    As John and the others got back into the carriage, the King recalled something. ��Oh, right. I wanted to send you a letter, but since you are here anyways, Mister Sterling, I��d like you to come visit my Castle in two days. There is something I��d like to discuss with you.��

    The young detective already had one foot in the carriage and mumbled. ��As you wish, I��ll be there in the morning.��

    Leaving behind the prison and the King, the three men were now brought home by the guard. However, the scene from earlier had engraved itself into their mind.

    ��Johnathan,�� Aaron whispered with vocal shivers. ��What are you planning?��

    Matt sat in a corner on his own, rolled in like a ball. ��That smell, it was gunpowder, wasn��t it? But wasn��t the King the one who said it was illegal to use?�� His stomach started to turn and he started to regret having eaten the cake.

    John just sat on the rightmost seat at the window, his face halfway illuminated by the moonlight. ��He wanted to ban it to limit the power of opposing factions and to start collecting it for his own needs. Aaron, Matt, I may have found the one I��m after.��

 Chapter 18: Farewell

    They arrived early in the morning while it��s still dark outside. Still shaken from when they witnessed the cold judgement of the King, John has declared his plans. As he walked into the main office of John, Aaron and Matt still had their qualms about the idea.

    ��John, are you sure that you aren��t just jumping to assumptions?�� Aaron said, not looking at him. Matt gently tucked at his sleeve and nods toward John, who still stood in the door frame, now bowing to both of them.

    ��I understand that this must be confusing. But whatever your choice is, I will be doing this. Even if it means I��ll be on my own,�� John paused, biting his lip. ��Seeing that just now, made me feel like a puzzle has finally been solved in my head. It all makes sense now. That man, the King, is the one who ordered my father to go on a mission. Now, he has all the power he needs to make the actual killer of my father be fully equipped to hunt me down. Iron fist Gregor��s execution from the newspaper was a coverup on his part. He needed Gregor��s hatred for me and knew he��d be a great asset for him. And now����

    ��And now?�� Matt asked silently.

    ��And now I feel like I will be asked to go on the mission that he wanted my father to go to all those years ago. That��s why he wants me to come to him,�� John added.

    Aaron sat down on the desk while Matt just leaned against it.

    ��The reason I decided to come with you back then,�� Aaron said, scratching his beard while he stared at the ceiling. ��Was to aid you and to make sure you didn��t do something reckless. However, now, after having seen you fight battle after battle, I know that no matter what I say, it won��t matter to you. So if this is truly what you want to do, then so be it. I will still be your friend and comrade.��

    ��I too will continue to follow you,�� Matt added, raising his hand high. ��You took me in back then, you trusted in me and now I have to do the same for you.��

    John looked up and stood tall, his eyes watering up. ��Thanks you two, but I need you to know that if you decide to come with me, that you will likely be risking your life.��

    Matt chuckled, ��Since when��s that not been the case before?��

    Dumbfounded, John smiled in joy and continues. ��Aaron, I need you to scratch up every last penny of ours. We will need it.��

    ��Roger that,�� Aaron said enthusiastically, his hand in military greeting motion.

    ��Matt, I will need you to take a bunch of letters that I��ll hand you tomorrow. Take them to the people they are addressed to,�� John added.

    ��Letters?�� Matt quickly realized what John meant. ��So you mean to leave me behind? But I-��

    ��You are a bright boy Matt. I will never regret having taken you in and that is exactly why I am giving you this important mission. We can still join up later again, but the letters need to reach their addressers quickly and out of all of us, you are the most nimble and swift person,�� John interrupted Matt. Both with tears welling up at their eyes as John took off Matt��s wig and stroked his fingers through the white hair.

    Their discussions finished, they went to bed and used the next day to prepare everything for the day after. John tinkered around on a small box, like a ring case, while Aaron emptied all the money they had in the bank. Matt was sulking, cleaning his claws and oiling them, waiting for John to hand him the letters.

    The night before they would go to the castle, John snuck over to Aaron and whispered, ��You asleep yet?��

    ��Of course not,�� Aaron replied, lighting the candle next to his bed. ��I can��t even really close my eyes with that pressure.��

    ��Do you have the money stored here?�� John asked quickly, glancing around the room.

    ��Wha- yes, over there,�� Aaron pointed next to John, by the door. ��In that case is all the money we have, why?��

    John held up about a dozen letters. ��Help me fill these up.��

    The next morning, the three dressed themselves in that house for the last time. Brushed their teeth at the bathroom sink, for the last time. Had breakfast together around the kitchen table for the last time. And walked out of the house, locking the door, for one last time.

    Waiting for them outside was a steamworks car. Reinforced in black alloy, the inside decorated in dark brown leather and the many brass pipes coming out the hub of the car through which steam left the motor.

    The steps into the car were heavy, and nearly lifeless. They knew what was to await them soon and that entering this car would mark possibly the last time that they look at their office. An office which was more to them than just an office, but a house.

    The next hours of travel felt like torture to them. John in his regular brown cloak, his sword at his hip and his long blonde hair tied at at the back. Aaron wearing a white shirt and a black waistcoat, his medicine and equipment case held tightly. Matt dressed with wig and contacts, in his favorite baggy trousers, black shirt and warm black scarf.

    When the castle was in their sight, every breath of theirs felt viscous, heavy and dry as they looked up to the large whitestone castle covered in wonderful green ivy.

    ��We have arrived Mister Sterling,�� said the driver with a cough.

    John jumped out of the car, turning around with a smile to his friends before straightening his face and going inside.

    ��Do you perhaps need something to clear up your throat? I am a doctor you see,�� Aaron said to the driver who accepted a few pills which Aaron handed him gladly.

    Walking through the cold halls of the castle, John was being lead by one of the secretaries. Step by step, they went up a stairway until they arrived at a steel door and being gestured to go inside. He knocked, and entered slowly, taking a deep breath.

    ��Hello there Jonathan Sterling,�� greeted the King, already sitting at a large metal desk. ��Have a seat.��

    A look around, John saw the room was made out of fabric which seemed to dim the sounds inside.

    ��Let��s not waste time on formalities shall we?�� John asked in a rush. ��Why did you invite me here, your majesty?��

    The King leaned back in his chair and made a face of stone. Seriosity was almost literally carved into it. ��I like your attitude and you are right, time is of the essence. As we speak, the Kingdom is reaching its limits,�� he handed a newspaper to John.

    Wednesday the third of October, it was today. John hadn��t read the newspaper the last two days and was looking through it quickly until he halted in shock. His mouth opening in a gasp. ��Diplomatic discussion in north between White and Grey Kingdom has been voided. Enemy General murders two Grey Kingdom Generals and retreats.��

    John couldn��t believe his eyes and at the same time, wasn��t surprised. ��But this is a lie, you know-��

    ��I am fully aware that it��s a lie, a necessary one however,�� the King interrupted John. ��Let me ask you a question, how much money do you think a country makes through war?��

    ��How much money?�� John wondered and began to think but he quickly gave up on his calculations.

    ��It is about seventy percent of our income. Manufacturing weapons, selling supplies, gaining land and making new leaps in science. These are all part of war. All of these and more make money, Sterling. You see, I was a great friend of your late father. He was a kind man who devoted his life to justice and to the safety of his people. However, he was naive and overlooked some of the aspects of safety,�� the King said.

    The young detective had to control every inch of his body in that moment to not make a scene, although every last fibre of his muscles wanted to strangle that man in front of him. With his struggle to not break his character, he simply continued to listen.

    ��You see, wealth brings people houses and security. If the Kingdom is rich, then so are its people. This is also what I told your old man all those years ago but he stubbornly refused and decided against a mission I wanted to give him. I felt even more sad when I heard that he tried to attack the escort I sent out for him, and that Sterling was thereby shot in self defense,�� he continues in a sad tone, although for John, it was was obviously a lie.

    The scars of John��s past began to burn again, reliving the moment he was guarded by the Father who defended him with his body. Remembering the moment with every detail. Every single blood drop that impacted on his face when the Father was shot.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ��You see, I wanted you to come here today since you have become somewhat known and trusted by many. If you were to clear up a murder and explain that it was an assassination attempt by someone from the Eastern Country of Baal, then the people would be willed to believe you. We would step in honour to avenge our fallen countrymen and go to war against them in an instant. Do you understand? I would like you to stage that very scene, allowing us to bring money and thus safety to this country of ours,�� the King smiled, revealing several golden teeth.

    John glanced over at the hands of the King, cluttered in rings and jewelry. He knew this wasn��t an attempt to bring safety to the country and the people. It was a way for the King to become richer by sacrificing mindless pawns.

    ��If that is all you wish of me,�� the young man paused. ��Then I will come up with an idea for you. Does that sum up this meeting?��

    The King laughed, almost falling off of his chair and said answered. ��Yes, you may leave. I will be waiting for your ideas during this month.��

    ��I don��t think you will need to wait all that long, your majesty,�� John said, placing down a little present box onto the table. ��This a gift from me to you, please have a look while I��m gone. I am sure you��ll be surprised.��

    The old man took hold of the present in an instant, like an impatient child. ��Yes, yes, now go.��

    ��Farewell, your majesty,�� John said and left the room. Quickly running down the stairs and leaving the castle in swift steps, he jumped into the steamworks car, now with Aaron behind the steering. The original driver now lying hidden in a bush nearby, drugged by the pills from earlier.

    ��Are you done?�� Aaron asked as drove off.

    ��Yes, I think we might be able to hear it soon,�� John grinned.

    Inside the closed room, the King eagerly unwrapped the present, revealing the little metal box with a small sentence engraved. ��May we meet again,�� he read and opened up the small box. A clicking noise sounded and following it, a loud explosion could be heard outside the castle. Alarms were immediately sounded and guards rushed inside the room where the King was, finding it filled in black smoke. Rushing in, they pulled out the King, whose face was burnt half a crisp, not moving a muscle.

    ��That��s our queue!�� John said out loud.

    ��Was that your doing?�� Aaron asked concerned.

    ��Yes, I wanted our departure to go out in a bang after all!�� the detective said proudly.

    ��Did you kill him?�� Matt leaned forward between John and Aaron, with a worried look.

    ��No, it��s unlikely that it was enough to kill him. I might��ve prettied up his face a bit though,�� he laughed.

    ��So what did he want to talk to you about?�� Aaron asked, driving rather quickly along the main road.

    ��He wanted me to stage a murder to give him reason for a war against Baal. He��s wants to make money through it and he is also the one who ordered my father to be killed back then!��

    ��Now what do you want to do?�� Matt wondered. ��Where will we go?��

    ��To the country of Baal. Without a doubt he will use my stunt back there to declare war, so I��d like to help them fight,�� John answered and then quickly remembered. ��Right, Aaron hold quickly somewhere.��

    Parking on the side of the street, John turned around to hand over a dozen letters to Matt.

    ��Please take these to the addresser;�� he said with his chin quivering as he saw the tears swell up on Matt��s face.

    ��Will you really be okay?�� Matt asked.

    Swiping the tears from Matt��s face, John said then stroked his hand through Matt��s hair one last time. ��We��ll be alright, and you will be too.��

    ��John, are you sure?�� Aaron reconfirmed, with tears even leaving his eyes as he looked at Matt.

    Replying in a nod, John continues. ��Matt, you��ve certainly made a mistake in life, but guess what? Everyone makes mistakes. Ever since you joined us, you made up for what you did that day. I may not be able to speak for the lord or even for the law, but from my own point of view, you have been more than amended for your crime. You are a bright young man and you must not let your appearance get into your way of life.��

    ��John, I don��t understand,�� Matt was overwhelmed by what John told him.

    ��Please make sure to bring those letters to the addressers and make sure to never forget us, understood?�� Aaron said, leaning over to hug Matt, both their tears soaking into the other��s clothes. Almost immediately, John joined in and hugged both of them in cries.

    ��Now go Matt, we trust you can do this!�� John said, patting on Matt��s shoulder right before the boy jumps out of the car.

    ��Now go,�� John whispered to Aaron who still had to fight the blurriness in his eyes.

    Quickly, wheels overturning, they drove off. ��Farewell, Matt!�� ��Have a good life, my boy!��

    Running after the car for a bit, Matt fell onto his knees, tears running like a waterfall, his lower lip quivering and his heart in pain. Kneeling down in the middle of nowhere, with nobody around, the boy swept off his tears and pain with his sleeve and looked at the letters with a stuffy nose. ��To Matthew Sterling.��

    His eyes opening wide, he checked the other letters, all of them addressed to him. He hurried, opening the letters. Each of them had banknotes within them, worth all of their wealth while only one of them had an actual letter alongside it. Having trouble understanding the meaning behind this, he cleared up his eyes again and read the letter.

    ��Dear Matthew, thank you for your hard work. As you��ve likely noticed, these letters were meant to be given to yourself. Well done, you fulfilled your very last mission. Now please use this money to live out your life to the fullest. Get to know the world and do what your heart desires. Both of us wish you the best of luck and success.

    Your eyes are red, just like the blood that flows through our veins, blood pumped by our very heart. Whenever you looked at us, we knew you did so with love and gratitude, so please, never let anybody tell you otherwise, for you are the most kind person we��ve ever met.

    Love,

    Johnathan Sterling - xxx, Aaron Barford -xxx��

    Closing up the soaked letter, Matt took hold of the soil beneath him. Compressing it in his hand in pain, crying and coughing with every bit of his soul. Only hours later, he stood up, calm and collected hiding the letters in his pockets and walking down the street with eyes, red like fire. Determined by his new goal, his free choice given by both John and Aaron. ��I have to find her,�� he said, moving back toward the city they came from.

    Arriving at the border to the East, John and Aaron were halted by the border control who wanted their IDs. ��Oh boy, it��s detective Sterling,�� the guard said in enthusiasm, worrying the two of them as they didn��t know if word had made it here already. ��What brings you to this place?��

    The two men in the car looked at each other in concern until John answered. ��We are here on a mission, may we pass?��

    The man handed over the IDs to them and with whistling sounds of steam, the gates were opened up for them. ��Have a safe travel!��

    ��Thank you sir,�� John said, waving his hand as Aaron drove ahead.

    Several days later, in a small dark room within an Inn, a young man with long black hair, tied at the back and an unshaven man, sat in the old chairs, reading through the newspaper. ��Seems like he��s really going to wage war because of us, just look at this!�� the younger one said. ��Young detective Sterling. His assassination attempt on the King, and his connection to the country of Baal.��

    ��My, my,�� said the unshaven man. ��John, you really are famous now, aren��t you?��

    The young man with dyed black hair leaned back in his squeaky chair and grinned. ��Now onto the real case, catching the mastermind of the murder on my father and humiliating him in front of his own people!��

 Chapter 19: Sand in Sight

    In the early morning a rooster crowed and shook the two young men awake. They slipped out of their beds and scratched their eyes. Both John and Aaron got ready to leave the humble inn they had stayed the night for while in a foreign country. Trimming his beard, Aaron saw John brushing his black dyed hair.

    ��Do you really think they won��t know that it��s you?�� Aaron said ��I doubt they��d only care for the colour of your hair if the length is still the same. Not to forget that this patched up jacket of yours is a dead giveaway by now,�� .

    John leaned himself back in a loud ��hmm��. ��It��ll work out,�� he said. ��Just stick to calling me Nathan for a while.��

    Aaron shook his head in doubt, cleaned what was supposed to resemble a sink, made out of sandstone and oxidized copper pipes where the water would slowly flow out, and put on his black waistcoat. ��Are you ready yet, Nathan?�� Aaron asked as he put on his shoes.

    ��Yes, yes,�� John said with one leg in the trousers. ��Just one second.��

    About three minutes later, John managed to get ready, dressed in sandy brown trousers, his usual brown coat and his hair tied back while keeping his front bangs. The back hair was neatly hidden inside a cheap western hat that hung on the back of his neck.

    ��Are you sure you are ready yet Nathan? Or do you need to put on some makeup first?�� Aaron chuckled.

    Letting out a fake laugh, John went on without a comment and opened the door. Both carrying their bags of supplies and clothing, they walked down an old wooden stair. Each step made crackling sounds as the sand was squished between sole and wood. Only half a dozen steps later, they arrived at the right side of the inn��s bar where an old man stood, cleaning glasses and cups.

    ��Hey there, boys. How��re ya��ll doing? The beds were comfy, ��ight?�� the old man said, in a nasal tone.

    ��Ah-. Yes, yes, the beds were just fine! We are about ready to check out too, so-.�� John said.

    ��Ya really want to check out so soon? What��s the haste?�� the old man wondered as he got out his guest book with the prices.

    ��We wanted to go, uhm, �� Aaron went silent for a second before continuing. ��Sightseeing! Yes, that��s it!��

    The old man��s eyes opened wide, put on an old thin pair of glasses and looked at the two young men. ��Sightseeing? Here? Well good luck with that, folks!��

    ��Thank you, Sir!�� Aaron said in an underlyingly worried tone.

    Quickly, they payed up and left the inn through two hinged small doors. The sun glared into their eyes and took a second to adjust so that they could see the small village around them.

    ��I must say,�� Aaron awed ��when we arrived late at night, it was nowhere near as impressive,�� , barely able to keep his eyes focused at any one building before looking at another.

    ��Still though,�� John said in a saddened tone, looking at the thin wooden buildings and shacks. ��It still looks so...poor?��

    ��I get what you mean,�� Aaron took a step back to think. ��Back in history class, we were taught that this country had some very hazy war going on because of a corrupt state, so I expected things to be odd, to say the least.��

    ��True, but it took a few nights to even get to this place. There were no signs of life at all out here. Plus, that old man there appeared to have found our interest to be odd.�� John thought out loud.

    ��Maybe, while we try to fetch some water and snacks for our small trip, let��s see if we can ask some locals about what happened,�� Aaron offered.

    ��Sure, I feel like that shouldn��t take long anyways.��

    They left the steamworks car, that they stole from the castle back at home, at the inn. They wandered down a coarse, sandy road, wide enough to allow a dozen people to walk past each other and alongside the road, there were several buildings. Made of thin wood and even thinner rusted metal. They were almost symmetrically placed to the sides of the road, their paint and edges weathered down by the sand.

    The two young men had the impression that this was a ghost town yet their fears were calmed by the fact that people, young and old, dressed in fairly common clothes, were walking on this road as lively as could be. Some children playing catch, adults chatting and working, it was an unusual sight for the two of them.

    ��Say,�� John said. ��They seem poorer than the folk in our Kingdom, and yet...�� He couldn��t quite put down his finger on what seemed odd to him.

    ��They seem more...human, don��t they?�� Aaron finished John��s sentence. ��I suppose our technological achievements and industrial comfort made us isolated in comparison. While kids from our Kingdom play with wind-up dolls indoors, here they seem to get along just fine even with very little.��

    John��s brows sunk heavily, looking at his shadow on the ground, cast by the sun behind them. ��Am I selfish, Aaron? Will my actions cause their lives to be buried in the very sand we are standing on?��

    ��How awfully sentimental of you. Selfish? Yes,�� Aaron stated. ��Reckless? Yes. However, if what you said is true, then even with or without your actions, these people would be facing the same danger ahead of them,�� Aaron patted John on his back. ��But that is why we are here, isn��t it?��

    John nodded and looked up again. ��The least I can do is help them overcome this trouble,�� John��s stomach began to growl. ��However, let��s eat before we save the day, alright?��

    They walked up to a small blue shop, door wide open as they went inside. Old shelves stood in orderly isles, storing dried foods and herbs. Further in the back, stood cooling boxes, made of rusty old metal and filled with cold water to keep the food fresh. Unlike what they were used to, the offers were very narrowed down.

    ��Chicken breast, chicken wings, chicken legs���� John mumbled as he looked through the cooling boxes. ��Chicken filet, chicken kebab�� do they have anything other than chicken here too?��

    ��I suppose it��d be difficult to really hold cattle in such a dry area as this one.�� Aaron said. ��That said, variety would be nice.��

    Eventually finding ready made sandwiches, they grabbed a dozen. From what they could tell, the sandwiches were made with chicken fillets and some veggies.. After they picked their travel food, they went to the cashier where an older woman stood, greeting them with a smile.

    ��Hello there!�� She said. ��You aren��t from ��round here, are you?��

    ��We are travelers,�� John cleared up. ��We were just stocking up on rations before going sightseeing.��

    As the woman calculated the price of their goods, she looked at them in confusion. ��Sightseeing? There ain��t much to look at other than sand in these parts.��

    ��The old man in the inn found it odd too,�� Aaron said. ��Might I ask why that is exactly?��

    ��You must��ve slept during history class, boys,�� she laughed. ��After the last war from a century ago the country��s state of democracy was destroyed and not much is left of it other than ruins, covered deep beneath the sand.��

    ��It��s been a hundred years though,�� John interrupted. ��Hasn��t there been any ideas to rebuild?��

    ��I��d be lying if I said that there weren��t, but currently the main factions of the old democracy are split up in rivalry.��

    ��Factions?�� Aaron asked.

    ��Yes, you are currently in a village built by the Masons.�� she explained. �� Our ancestors took on the less interesting role of building a peaceful lifestyle for the people and making it comfortable.The Sabers are way out in the desert, they were once the military of the country and still act all high an�� mighty. Meanwhile the labour centric Mining Faction is out in the mountains and tries to rebuild the country through money.��

    ��Three heads all doing their own thing,�� John mumbled under his breath unaware that she would hear him.

    ��That��s basically how it is. Anyhow,�� she points at the price on a sheet of paper.

    As they pay their sum and pack the sandwiches in a small bag the door squeaks open, a customer coming in. Dressed in red-brown leather, red scarf and a cowboy hat on his head. ��Have a nice day,�� they said before going outside. They merely got to the middle of the road before they heard the woman inside scream.

    Quickly turning around, the customer with the red scarf ran out with a full bag, speeding past them and jumping on a horse where his partner, in similar fashion, seems to have waited for him.

    ��Stop them! They stole all of my sandwich stock!�� the woman screams as she ran out in a huff.

    Guards were nearby, but they couldn��t keep up with the horse running off into the desert. Upset, John and Aaron walked over to the Guards. ��Aren��t you going to go after them?�� John shouted.

    ��Until we get on our horses, they��d be long gone. Happens every week.�� One of the guards explains.

    ��Every week?�� Aaron repeated in a startled voice. ��Why wouldn��t you prepare and get the horses ready then?��

    ��They are Sabers,�� a man said, coming out of a small wooden building behind the guards. Wearing a blue shirt, brown jeans and leather boots. A mustache curled up and a Newspaper in his hand.. John immediately noticed the Sheriff''s star on his chest. ��Or rather, a rogue offspring of them. They are much better armed than we are.��

    John grunted as he heard those words. ��So even here the police is useless! Fine!�� He pulled at Aaron��s shirt. ��You drive! I won��t stand here and do nothing.��

    Unable to disagree, Aaron followed. They got into the car, only half a minute away and drove off. Following the prints left behind from the horse, they went off road into the desert. Passing by the guards, one of the guards shouted ��Wait! The sand��s gonna get you-�� he stopped as they were already too far away to hear him. ��Stuck..��

    ��Leave them be,�� the Sheriff said, patting on his large belly with the newspaper and twirling his mustache with the other hand. ��You two,�� he said, turning to two people within the Sheriff hut, hidden by the shadows. Holding out the newspaper in front of them he said. ��Look out for them, will ya?��

    Out in the desert, driving over dunes and trying to follow the tracks, John and Aaron were again amazed by the landscape. All the way to the horizon, nothing but sand and wasteland. Every now and then, they��d pass by a dead tree and after an hour of driving, the car slowed down. Vultures circled over their heads as the motor slowly but surely lost its strength. Uphill, on a larger dune, it eventually stalls and the wheels dig themself into the coarse sand. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    ��Damn it! No water in the tank,�� John shouted. Sweat ran down both of their faces as the blazing sun��s heat made their bodies feel heavier and heavier.

    ��Well,�� Aaron said, getting out of the car. ��We certainly won��t be finding water in the middle of the desert.��

    ��Right,�� John agreed, stepping out of the car too. As he touched the metal door, he shrieked and blew on his hand. ��Touching metal is a bad idea.��

    Aaron merely shook his head, climbing up the dune to the top while John still stood at the car, slogging up. For a moment, Aaron couldn��t believe what he saw on the other side of the dune. His sight was blurry from the heat which causes the air to become wavy, making it seem like an illusion. But after cleaning his eyes with his sleeves and looking far, far ahead, he saw a town. ��Get up here, quickly!�� he shouted at John.

    ��Almost-�� John mumbled with his last few steps. ��-there! So, what am I supposed to look...at..�� he stared to his side where Aaron stood and back ahead of him.

    Buildings made out of cement, roads of stone along with large metal trussings and pipelines stood there, right on the other side of that dune. Most of it covered by sand, metal rusting and chipped away, and buildings were already broken.

    ��So there really are more people out here!�� John said, rushing down the dune, toward the town. They both slid down, and with each step their hopes seemingly extinguished.

    ��These are only the remnants of what once was a town, nothing else,�� Aaron sighed.

    They walked through the streets, buried beneath the sands. Past buildings, cracked and sunken under. When they reached what seemed to be the middle of the town, they found a large metal structure. Held up by frames and balanced by rusty metal cables was a water tower with a large hole in it. ��Judging by that, it was probably blown up by a bomb in the war.�� John thought out loud.

    ��Right,�� Aaron nodded. ��I wonder how all this happened. Why did this country fall apart like this?��

    Aaron��s hands touched the cement walls of a building, just gently grazing the architecture of the past. He walked along, trying to imagine what had caused this until he stepped onto something soft. Something that was neither rock nor sand. Looking down at his feet there was a little lump of fabric.

    ��Found something?�� John asked, seeing his friend dig up something from the sand.

    Gently shoving aside some stones and sand, he found the end of the fabric lump. A small doll wearing a green dress with a black button eye. The other missing. ��It��s nothing,�� Aaron mumbled, throwing aside the doll.

    As the doll hit the ground, they heard a whicker. ��A horse?�� John asked himself. ��A horse!�� he shouted.

    They followed the sound, sneaking through the streets, hiding behind pieces of walls as they approached the sound. Then, on the other side of a wall they stood at, they saw a small hut. Mostly broken, only held together by the metal frame within. Outside of it stood a horse, the same horse that they saw the thieves ride at the village. It was tied to a wooden pillar, drinking and eating from a troth.

    John��s index stood straight at his lips, as to hush Aaron while John went to approach the building. While John went to slowly and carefully unsheathe his sword, Aaron drew a few draggers from a side pouch and pulled a small napkin out too. It was soaked and it seemed like he cleaned the daggers with it.

    Getting closer, John already heard voices inside and noises of eating.

    ��Man, if the boss caught us with this, we��d be whipped out for sure!�� One of them said, munching down on a sandwich.

    ��Yeh! Screw him and his pretend military. Every man for himself I say!�� The other said.

    ��Oh really,�� John exclaimed, creeping up on the first man. With a swift strike of the blunt side of the sword, the man was knocked out. ��Now then, why don��t you tell us more?��

    Fear and anger were written all over the second man��s face, drawing a gun from his side. ��Stand back-��

    He made a small stumble forward and dropped his gun before falling to the ground. A few daggers stuck in his back. ��Seems it still works!�� Aaron smiled, tossing a dagger up to catch it before tossing it again.

    ��What��d you do?�� John yelled, torn between being excited and worried. ��You didn��t kill him did you?��

    ��No, sir! Remember back at the train when we first caught Iron Fist Gregor?�� Aaron said.

    John nodded. ��What about it?��

    ��You saw me use a narcotic tranquilizer to put Gregor to sleep, didn��t you? Well, when I looked around at home to find anything we could need or sell, I found it again!��

    ��Get to the point,�� John waved his hands. ��You know I stink at your doctor stuff.��

    ��Long story short, I put some of it onto the daggers, so that when they enter, a couple seconds later, they drop to sleep,�� Aaron went on to ramble. ��Well not quite sleep, it��s more their muscles being paralyzed but-��

    ��Alright I get it!�� John stopped him from further explaining. ��It just happened so fast, is all.��

    ��It surprised me too, but I guess since I hit him in the back where the main nerve system is, it worked pretty quick.��

    John went on to ignore Aaron��s continuing ramble and picked up the gun that the man dropped. He held his hands at the trigger, aimed for the sand and shot. A whistle sounded and a little cog at the back of the barrel turned. Taking a closer look at it, a small bottle was attached to its grip. He shook it. ��Liquid?�� he wondered and tried to turn the bottle. Attached like a screw, the bottle was pulled off and when he looked inside it was water. On the bottom, a blaze stone.

    ��I see now,�� John showed Aaron. ��Didn��t expect steamworks guns to be around these places.��

    As he held up the gun, a shot sounded from south of them. Followed by a blast which blew up the sand behind them into a cloud. They split up, getting to cover. A swift finger signal from John pointed to to the direction of the shot. Aaron followed up on that signal, taking a blind spot around a building. John made use of the sand cover before it settled down and ran back to where the water tower was, only half a minute of running straight behind him.

    Using the metal trussing and frames as further cover, John kicked up some sand with his sword to try and buy more time for Aaron. Suddenly, from the side of the sand cover, a person jumped out with a blade just barely grazing his nose.

    The sand settled and in front of John stood a young, dark skinned, woman. Slender, dressed in black, now covered in sand, with a right arm of metal as well as a metal left leg. Her curly, bright brown hair tied back into a bun.

    ��Steamworks prosthetics?�� John thought out loud before seeing a long double edged blade attached to the metal arm.

    Each step she made caused the metal to squeak and steam to whistle. Keeping his distance with steady steps himself, John further analyzed the blade which seems to be incredibly thick, yet light enough for her to move the arm without any sign of stress in the joints. It had small squares engraved, reaching to almost the middle of the blade.

    ��Sterling,�� she said under her breath. ��Did you really think you could hide in our country after making us an enemy of the Kingdom?��

    At high velocity, bullets came zipping past them, aimed at John, though barely missing him. Each impact created a large geyser of sand. ��I see,�� John muttered to the woman while taking a defensive position, his sword on angle in front of him. ��So Aaron was right, the black hair really didn��t make much of a difference, ey?��

    In a grunt, the woman ran right at him. Her last step, with the left leg, caused her to dash in one big leap. Her sword sought purchase in his legs while she ducked for less air resistance, almost like a bullet.

    The swift style reminded him of Matt. ��No blocking that,�� he thought out loud. John used his swords propulsion to aid him in a small sidestep, just barely dodging the long blade as she flew past him.

    Two shots quickly followed as his feet grounded again. Both hitting in front of him, the blast pushing him back and obscuring his vision. ��Aaron,�� he mumbled.

    Meanwhile where John and Aaron split up before, Aaron had taken the long way around the buildings to get to a large advertisement board. Attached onto metal trussing and raised about ten meters high, large clouds could be seen coming from on top of the board. Aaron had hoped he could stay in the blind spot of the sniper while he snuck up and slowly took the rusty, partially broken stairs and ladders up.

    Up on top. A middle aged man with sandy blonde brown hair which looked like it hadn��t been brushed in years, yet it was just about a few centimeters long. On the middle of his chin a bit of stubble showed while the sides had grown scruffy and about as long as his hair. Wearing flying goggles to keep his eyes free from sand, and a lit cigarette in his mouth, hanging to the middle of his chin, he looked through his scope. ��Damn the heat refraction really makes it hard to judge distance.�� The man said to himself with the cigarette in mouth before continuing by breathing out. ��Damn it Ayra, move aside!��

    Pulling a metal lever on the side of the long barrel, attached to a large rounded off water tank, the size of a human leg, the next bullet was drawn into the chamber. With the press of the trigger, the compressed steam entered the chamber and shot the bullet at high velocity, the recoil digging itself into his shoulder as he lied flat on his stomach.

    John and the woman were still playing a game of catch. Each time she went for a dash, a sizzle in the piping of her leg gave it away, allowing John to dodge it in time. However, moving about in the heat with his coat on and carrying the heavy sword and flexible pipe, it tired him out. Added to that, the water tank on his back felt lighter each time he had to use the propulsion to evade her attack. ��I can��t keep relying on this,�� he thought.

    Before long, she stood still. Breathing in and out, exhausted from running after him. ��Coward!�� she shouted. ��Face your bloody death already!��

    With her left hand she turned a small cog on her mechanical leg. A rush of steam could be heard as it rushed through pipes. Then, despite what John thought possible, she floated. Her right leg angled, out of the way of the left leg. The mechanical leg, or rather, the foot made her float. Small outlet thrusters on the leg allowed her to dash about more freely than she could before.

    John couldn��t believe his eyes. She hovered in mid air and was able to almost fly around. He was overwhelmed by the speed at which she circled around him. Due to the placement of the thrusters, she had full control of her directional movement, making him a sitting duck.

    Eventually, when she made her way behind him, she swung the sword, although she was too far away for it to connect. A sizzle of steam coming from her arm warned him, making him turn around, expecting to parry the sword. To his surprise, instead he found three flying daggers dig themself into his upper right thigh. A short grunt followed his shout of pain right before he looked up at her blade. The engraved squares were pockets for the daggers which he believed were shot out when the blade was swung at him.

    Drawing three more daggers from her side pocket, she inserted them into the square pockets of the sword, each of them making a clicking noise as they were plugged in. ��I��ve lost too much from the past war already, I won��t allow you to take any more from me!�� she shouted and shot the second salvo of daggers, digging into John��s left upper thighs. At this point, he stood x legged, barely standing, his knees shivering from the pain and the loss of blood. Or rather, he should have felt pain. He took a quick glance at them when she loaded the third salvo, each of them seemed to be coated with a liquid film of some kind. Then, he remembered Aaron��s daggers from earlier. ��I see now, so you too use some kind tranquilizer,�� he said under his breath, yet loud enough for her to hear.

    ��Yes, that way you won��t be able to move for much longer!��

    ��We��ll see,�� he said, provoking her with a hand gesture. ��Come at me!��

    Biting her lower lip, she swung her sword yet again, the third salvo flying at him while he took a small step back as to not move too much. The daggers landed before his feet, having traveled with next to no velocity.

    ��Water is such a pain in the butt, isn��t it, hun?�� John smirked. ��When you run out, your weapons become obsolete and with it, your limbs.��

    ��I��ll wipe that smirk right off your face, you arse!�� She shouted and stepped forward with her right, trying to follow with her left but, it was stuck. Only moving very slowly, she hadn��t noticed her having lost her hovering. Even her arm began to sink down, the pistons slowly sagging. ��No damn it! Not like this!��

    John removed the daggers from his legs, with seemingly no pain. To her surprise. ��How is this possible,�� she astonished. ��Doesn��t it hurt to move?��

    ��Thanks to you, it doesn��t. Tranquilizer and pain don��t go well together,�� he said. ��That said, my legs do feel a little light.��

    His sight began to blur from the blood loss, walking up to her, around her right. She tried to strike at him with her left arm, though her attempt was hopeless. He pulled the pipes from a small back pocket, big enough to store a steam pressure tank and as he heard the whistle, almost like a balloon, he nudged her forehead. Unable to stand against it, she fell onto her back, struggling to stand up since her metal limbs were simply too heavy.

    ��Honestly, I really hate fighting women. It takes so long to find a way to beat you without injuring you,�� John said, as he sheathed his sword, and tore off some of his shirt to tie it around the wounds.

    The shooting had stopped, the sniper tied up on the board, tranquilized by Aaron��s daggers in an ambush. Limping toward the board, John dragged the woman along the coarse sand, and proceeded to carry her up. All while she wanted nothing more than to somehow get control back over her arm and crush his hands, though she knew she was powerless.

    When finally, John had reached the top, he dropped her off next to the sniper and sat down himself in exhaustion, eyes sharp. ��Now then, let��s have a talk.��

    Who are these two? Are John and Aaron now enemies of this country too? Find out in the next Chapter of Steam��s Shadow!

 Chapter 20: Faith and Duty

    While John and Ayra were both still fighting, Aaron had snuck up on the advertisement board which had a small construction stairway on the back. Trying not to make a noise, he drew four daggers and coated them with his tranquilizing liquid. Once at the top, he waited, and prayed. Waited for one more shot to be fired, while praying that it would not hit.

    Not having to wait long, the shot was fired, a loud noise, followed by a subtle vibration in the rusty scaffolding on the advertisement board, allowed Aaron to step out quickly and throw his daggers at the wide open back of the shooter.

    In the heat of the moment, Aaron dropped one of the four, though, with a thud, the other three dug themselves into the back of the shooter.

    ��Crap! What the hell?�� the scruffy haired man shouted in short pain, dropping his rifle next to him. He looked behind him and saw Aaron closing in. ��You. I didn��t think you��d participate in the fight.��

    ��Seems like you are still awake after three of those daggers, perhaps it''s the adrenaline?�� Aaron thought out loud, walking up the man and kicking aside his rifle. ��Well, by the looks of it your movement still seems to be impaired. Like John would say, what works, works.��

    In front of the man, whose body felt numb and awkwardly unresponsive, lied a cigarette. Still lit, the tip fallen to ashes. He tried to inch forward by scraping his chin on the ground with what little strength he had left and stretched out his tongue and lips, trying to get a hold of his cigarette. Just when he was about to give up, realising that it was futile, Aaron picked it up and held it to the man��s mouth.

    ��Ta!�� the man said, biting into the filter and starting to smoke. Tightly held between his lips, he said, ��Well then, whatcha think? Is your friend still holding up?��

    Hands away from the trigger, Aaron took the rifle to look through the scope, witnessing John��s victory. ��Indeed.�� he said in a single breath, sitting down and leaning back. ��Why were you after us, if I may ask?��

    ��I guess you haven��t even got the least bit of formal decency to introduce yourself, eh?�� the man said, exhaling smoke.

    ��My bad, I suppose I didn��t expect people who tried to kill us just seconds ago to want a formal introduction. Fine then, my name is Aaron, and now back to the question at hand,�� Aaron said, while watching the sun at the horizon.

    ��Name��s Leon, Leo for short. And we didn��t try to kill you�� Let me rephrase that actually. We weren��t supposed to anyways. Ayra was. But our orders were merely to capture you,�� he explained, shaking his head to break off the ash from the tip of the cigarette on the metal platform.

    As Aaron began to unpack a few first aid supplies, he asked ��Who��s orders?��

    Thinking for a second, the man sighed and answered. ��It��s not that much of a secret I guess. The Sheriff did. Although I��d imagine a lot of people being after your head right ��bout now.��

    Aaron began to disinfect and cover the dagger wounds with fabric to stop the bleeding.

    Leon��s face twitched, expecting it to burn, even biting into the filter of the cigarette. Though to his surprise, it was completely numb.

    ��Done,�� Aaron said while Leon was still expecting some kind of pain.

    ��How do you doctors do that?�� Leon asked.

    ��Do what?��

    ��You know, one moment you think it��s gonna be hell and suddenly it��s over without noticing it.

    ��Ah,�� Aaron chuckled, ��Business secret!��

    Aaron began to help up the man to sit straight, cuffing the hands together in front.

    ��Now lemme ask you a question, why��re you not killing me yet?�� Leon asked.

    Aaron froze for a second, not moving a muscle before slowly leaning back to get into a thinking pose. ��I suppose it��s simply because I have no reason to.��

    ��But you said it yourself,�� Leon wondered. ��We, from your view,  tried to kill you.��

    ��You didn��t though.�� Aaron said. ��If I tried to kill all the things that could��ve killed me, then I��d have to wonder how big my list would be.��

    Slightly moving his fingers again, and being able to lift his arms, Leon grabbed his cigarette, or what was left of it by now, and held onto it with his hands.

    ��Is the tranq starting to fade?�� Aaron asked.

    ��If I say yes, will ya jab me?�� Leon wondered, not wanting to hold onto his cig with his teeth and lips anymore.

    ��No, I just wanted to keep stats,�� Aaron said, writing down a few notes into a small notebook which he pulled out of his pocket.

    Just when Aaron put away his notebook, John arrived at the top of the board, slowly placing down Ayra, before falling nose first onto the metal platform with only a mumble coming from him. ��Woman, I hope you know that you are heavy as-��

    ��John!�� Aaron interrupted. ��That��s not a way to call a woman.��

    John turned his head, nose bright red, ��You know she tried to kill me right? I can call her heavy however often I��d like. Now patch me up, I am starting to feel my legs again�� which in this case is a bad thing.��

    Ayra was still annoyed by her loss and had no idea what they were muttering about. All she saw was Leon behind Aaron, having a smoke and sitting there almost leisurely while waving at her.  ��Are these two guys clowns?�� she asked him in a high pitched voice.

    ��Seems so, eh?�� he chuckled.

    After several minutes, Aaron had attended John��s wounds and patched his legs up as best he could. The result were large bandages strapped around his legs and arms, which had apparently been hit by shrapnel from the shots. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Ayra sat straight. Her hands were tied while she still had no movement in her artificial limbs, staring down John throughout the entire time. ��What the hell are you doing?�� she grumbled.

    Surprised, John and Aaron both looked at her, while Leon cared to explain. ��I was just as baffled, but they don��t seem ta care about killing us.��

    ��We never sought to kill anybody, especially now, we have no reason to take your life.�� Aaron claimed. ��The two of you lost, and can barely move right now.��

    ��Yet you brought war to us and infiltrated our country!�� Ayra shouted, trying to point at them with her right arm, forgetting that she can��t move it.

    John closed his eyes, feeling the winds from that height brush past his face and through his hair. Cooling off the heat, and calming his mind as he prepared to speak up.

    ��We didn��t bring war to your country and neither did we mean to infiltrate it,�� he said, looking into both, Leon��s and Ayra��s faces. ��Our King had this planned several years ago, while I was still a kid. He tried to make the previous Sterling detective do his bidding, though when he refused, he was killed. Wanting to find out more about his death, I got caught up in the same proposition. Framing this country into war.��

    ��Seems like you took it on too, bastard!�� Ayra shouted, but was nudged by Leon to calm down.

    ��He wasn��t done yet, so just stay calm and listen, Ayra.�� Leon interrupted, and gave the word back to John after Ayra let out a grunt.

    ��Thanks. It��s true, the wish of the King became reality. But not simply because of me. He has waited for such a long time now, even if I had refused, he��d have gone through with his plan. Instead I decided to leave him a warning, all while coming here trying to fight alongside you, against him,�� he scratched his head. ��I guess, given your attack on me, that is the last thing you��d want to do though.��

    Leon and Ayra tried to comprehend the story. Both were too confused to bother arguing. They knew too little and didn��t know what to believe. ��The warning you left. It was a bomb, but it wasn��t enough right? You should��ve just taken his life when you had the chance!�� Leon said.

    ��Possibly,�� John agreed. ��It might have saved us some trouble, but my father went with the ideal that justice can only be claimed without killing. As a detective. No. As someone who represents the law, I believe everyone has a right to be judged accordingly.��

    ��Fool,�� Ayra said, but was cut off by John.

    ��Besides, for what he did, death would be quick way out. I��d rather he rot away in prison all while losing everything he��s built up,�� he mumbled, almost whispering the last few words.

    Snapping out of his mumbling, John leaned forward and removed his storage pack from his back. Giving it a light shake, the small amount of water inside splashed, creating an echo within the metal tanks. He screwed open the lid on the top, circled around Ayra, to her back, and poured the rest of his water into her tank.

    ��What are you trying to do?�� Ayra barked at him.

    ��Giving you a hand,�� he smirked. ��A leg too, I guess.��

    Knowing she had no way to fight against it, she sat still. She did not understanding her situation at all. Not understanding Johnathan one bit. Whether he should be trusted or not, it was all too weird for her. To her, he was like an open book, specked in riddles. She had heard of him, seen him, fought him and yet, can��t read into his actions. ��What are you trying to accomplish with all this?�� she whispered.

    John closed up all the lids, checked the pipes, to make sure they weren��t damaged, and sat himself down next to Aaron, in front of Ayra.

    ��I simply think that it''s a waste to be enemies, and that it would be good to just get along and fight a common enemy.�� John explained.

    A very shallow sizzle could be heard, her arm and leg twitched for a second before calming again. She slowly opened and closed her mechanical hand.

    ��It��s not that much water, so until you get home, you should use it sparingly,�� John said.

    A shallow look came from Aaron, aimed at his now black haired friend who noticed and nodded. He untied them, to their own surprise.

    ��This should be a lot more comfortable now, right?�� John asked.

    Pumping a fist with her mechanical arm, Ayra said under her breath, ��This is nonsense!��

    ��Listen up now,�� John spoke up, while almost immediately Leon and Ayra both looked at him. ��What you do now, is your own choice. Either you believe me, and let me help you. Or you kill me on the spot.��

    ��John!�� Aaron shouted. ��You-��

    Before he could even muster a lecture, Ayra��s arm blade extended and swung towards John. Aimed at his throat. In that flash of a moment, Aaron��s mind wanted him to look away, fearing what would happen. But with every fibre of his will, he kept his eyes open and tried to pull John back. Grabbing the man on his shoulders, Aaron pulled, but John resisted. Pushed against it. He wanted to keep trying, but it went by too quickly. He couldn��t save him from the inevitable.

    As a clicking sound rang, Aaron��s hands let loose. The blade had stopped. What could be the diameter of a hair, was all which kept the blade away from John��s throat.

    She stopped her attack. Ayra bit her lip as she looked at the person in front of her.

    John gulped, feeling his adam��s apple touch the blade. Though still unwavered. Not having moved a muscle, not even having blinked. He simply looked in her eyes and accepted her judgement.

    ��Idiot,�� she muttered. ��You would��ve been dead had I not stopped.��

    ��But you did stop,�� John leaned back, taking a deep breath, as Aaron slowly, shiveringly, let go of him. ��I take it you understand my position now?��

    ��Yes, however, we have our orders.��

    With those words, she quickly smacked him on the head with the blunt wide side of the sword, while Leon aimed at Aaron with his rifle, saying, ��Sorry, man. This might hurt.��

    Similar to his partner, Leon used the shoulder stock to smack Aaron on the head.

    The result was both, John and Aaron, unconscious on the advertisement board.

    With little effort, Ayra and Leon had tied them up and sat them into a trailer, attached to two horses. Right before going home, Ayra remembered something. She walked over to where her captives had previously beaten two renegade members of the Blades. With them tied up too, and the bag of what was left of the sandwiches, she loaded them into the trailer and went home with her partner.

    Not long after, it got dark. The air cooled down rapidly and the sky became clear and starry. The wind picked up. Familiar with the desert, they knew what it would mean and they decided to take a detour. Instead of going past the many dunes, where John and Aaron had previously crossed the desert, they went to an abandoned war zone.

    Upon entering, the four captives had woken up and the wind had picked up even more, blurring their vision. Leon quickly stuffed a towel into the captives�� mouths before tying each of them at the back of the head to prevent them from talking.

    While John��s and Aaron��s heads were still throbbing in pain from the hit, they opened their eyes ever so carefully. Trying not to get sand into them. Though the storm covered most of the scenery, they could see what was close to them. Large wrecks of something wooden. Planks, rounded connected planks and even some longer poles, on the top of which, hung the remains of a tattered cloth. A sail.

    ��A shipwreck?�� They thought, though could not speak.

    Ship-like structures were broken, torn apart and scattered all over the place. Some upside down, but most of them largely buried.

    Large metal connections acted as the frame of the planks. Though, from the looks of it, everything was much thinner. They couldn��t help but wonder how all of this got here. Why were these things stranded in this place?

    What lies in this place they are in. Where will they be brought? What will happen to them? All that and more in the next chapter of Steam��s Shadow.

 Chapter 21: A smile of the past

    Hiding within the toppled over remnants of a ship, stranded in sand, with nothing but a small fire to shed light in the middle of the night, the six wait out the sandstorm. Ayra and Leon sat next to each other, on seperate sheets of cloth. Opposite to them, the two thieves were sleeping with rags stuffed into their mouths, along with both John and Aaron, tied up on a wooden post. Their mouths weren��t stuffed but they haven��t spoken a single word yet.

    Sand slowly drizzled, like an hourglass, into the ship from the outside, through cracks and leaks in the wooden hull. Scratching from the hull, caused by the sand, echoed throughout the ship, making an eerie noise.

    Still with a headache, John looked at his kidnappers, corners of his mouth sunk. He looked around, still trying to make sense of this sight. Outside he had seen what looked like a graveyard of ships, albeit in the middle of the desert.

    With dry mouth, he eventually asked. ��What is this place?��

    ��It��s what is left from the last war,�� Leon muttered.

    ��We heard a little of it, but, not all of it,�� Aaron said, barely able to keep his eyes open at this hour.

    ��We weren��t even born back then, so we don��t know all the details.�� Ayra remarked, leaning back, lying on the sheet with her arms behind her head. ��This country was once known for its strength. These ships. They once flew using larger versions of the stone in my foot.�� she explains, lifting her foot.

    ��What is that gem, anyway?�� John rudely interrupted.

    ��They are stones, just like your blazestones,�� Leon said. ��You see, we get a lot of meteorite showers in the desert, and their core is made of a crystal.��

    Leon points to the violet stone on his partner��s foot.

    ��With heat, usually generated through steamworks, they can levitate,�� Ayra added. ��Like your blazestones, the size of these stones matters. But the heat as well.��

    John��s eyes sparkled as embers crackled in the fireplace. ��Incredible, I��ve never heard of them over in the Kingdom.��

    ��That��s because they aren��t used over there,�� Ayra said. ��After the Kingdom destroyed our country, they covered it up, and wanted to never see these stones again. You see, military flying ships were quite effective against their cannons. They couldn��t fire up very well.��

    ��Such a shame, so much potential was lost, so much research, now gone,�� John sulked. ��All because of a war����

    The moment he said his last word, he shut his mouth. Regretting what he��d said. Knowing full well that the next war was just on their doorstep.

    Nobody uttered another word. Their minds imagining the destruction that would come in future. With their nightmares in head, they went to sleep, waiting out the storm.

    In the morning, when the storm had settled, no words were exchanged. Silence still stuck in the air. Ayra and Leon put the thieves and the detective team on separate carts. Going home, to the small settlement.

    They eventually arrived, making stop right in front of the Sheriff''s house. The kidnappers got off their horses, and were about to walk into the building, as a person steps out.

    With the head ducked under the door while walking out. They see the person, dressed in a black uniform. As if it wasn��t warm enough already, the fabric was thick, the top long sleeved, and the trousers reached to the ankles.

    Their eyes were drawn to a few badges on the person��s chest. Six stars of gold and a sword-shaped medal in the center of them. They knew it was a high ranking soldier.

    The soldier angled down the front brim of his hat. On it, a golden triangle, dead center on the front.

    Face hidden by the shadows, the rough voice spoke. ��Good timing,�� the soldier tilts his head to look at the carts. ��I see you have what I came for.��

    Out from behind the soldier in black, came the Sheriff. He scratched his nose, underneath which his white mustache tickled him. He buckled up his belt, his belly rested on top of it. A large leather hat sat on his head, casting shadow onto his face, though not covering it.

    ��Well done you two,�� the Sheriff said with a smile.

    Out of the store, across the street, ran a woman. The cashier from the other day. ��You caught the thieves! Hopefully they��ll be stuck into jail for quite a while after that.�� she shouted, running up to Ayra.

    Ayra merely scratched her neck with an uncomfortable smile, handing the lady a bag filled with what had been stolen. ��Actually, we only brought them back,�� she points at John and Aaron, still tied up. ��They were the ones who fought them to return you the sandwiches.��

    ��Oh my,�� the woman extorted. ��Why are they all tied up then?��

    ��Unfortunately, these two are responsible for the ugly situation with the Kingdom,�� the Sheriff said, while Ayra rushed to his ear, whispering to him.

    ��I guess I��ll take what I came here for then,�� the person dressed in black said, walking up to the carts.

    John quickly noticed a sheath, a sword sheath used for a saber, on the soldier��s waist. ��Are you taking us to our execution?�� he asked, head sunken, in a tone of seriousness.

    ��You?�� the person laughed. ��No, I��m afraid not. Though, do believe me, I know many who��d like that.��

    The person walked up to the cart with the thieves, and got onto the horse. ��I merely came to fetch two stupid soldiers who will receive great punishment when we return.��

    Without a goodbye, the person rode away with the thieves. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    A few guards came to help lead both John and Aaron inside the Sheriff��s building. From the outside, it looked like no more than a shack. Wooden plank walls, corrugated metal roof, and small. Yet, from the inside, it was cold. Walls of concrete, and in the back, a cell with up to three beds, a sink, and a bucket.

    ��Until this war is over, you will remain a prisoner,�� the Sheriff said, as the two of them were shackled and lead into the cell. Their equipment stored inside a locked shelf.

    ��But Sir!�� Ayra retorted. ��Didn��t you listen to what I told you?��

    ��I did, and I decided against it, now return to your regular duties and leave us alone for a while. Ok?�� The Sheriff said, sitting down at his desk, in a large chair.

    A short moment of silence followed as the others left the building, until John asked. ��How��d you know it was us?��

    ��It''s hard not to notice when you are exactly as the papers show.��

    The Sheriff threw in a newspaper. It was from the third of October, just the other day. On it, printed in black and white, were the busts of both Aaron and John.

    John noticed, that his dyed hair didn��t work out. Due to his natural darker blond, the black and white bust of him showed his hair to be quite dark. Making him look even more accurate to the picture than he��d have been without it.

    John slumped down his shoulders, holding his head in his hands. ��I��m absolutely useless!�� He Shouted before going silent, sniffling and wiping his eyes with his sleeves. ��Maybe�� maybe I really didn��t deserve this title to begin with-��

    ��Idiot,�� Aaron interrupted with a short outburst. ��I knew you��d eventually mention it after everything you told me, but that you think of it now, are you serious?��

    ��It��s true, isn''t it though? After the Father��s death, the King needed a new puppet for his plan, and despite my non existent education, and failing every written exam, I still passed. I passed on combat alone�� I was a fool to believe that I even deserved this title at all.�� He took off the sterling silver badge from his coat and stared at it.

    ��You certainly didn��t deserve your title because you are particularly smart, that may be true. But I��ve been with you for so long now John, and I can tell you, what you miss in wits, you more than make up for in following your guts. Perhaps you don��t solve your cases in the prettiest way possible, but you do solve them!�� Aaron said loudly before calming down. ��You helped a lot of people, one especially. You are great at what you do, and don��t think about sulking on me just because we are in a prison now.��

    ��You say that, but-��

    ��Listen to your friend, kid,�� the Sheriff interrupted. ��You two have surely stumbled through this settlement a bit, haven��t you?��

    They nod.

    ��Then you may have noticed that something is missing. A school. The children here, and most adults never went through any kind of proper education. Only home tutoring in the crafts were taught from the parents down to the children. With the exception of a few parents banding together to share their knowledge to each other��s children, nobody here is educated as you��d know it. Yet I, and many others, still have jobs and make the best of it.��

    John��s head lifted, leaning back onto the cold concrete wall. He smirked. ��Thanks, I guess this entire situation is kind of hitting me harder than I thought.��

    The Sheriff looked into his face. His whitened eyebrows curled. ��Your smile. I��ve seen it quite often. A smile of someone broken. A liar.��

    Aaron astonished, his mind rushing with a sense of realization, recalling all the past times he��d seen John smile or smirk like that before. ��John?��

    Laying down on the stiff bed, John looked up at the concrete ceiling, staring into thin air. Into his past.

    ��You remember what I told you about my past, don��t you? I grew up at an orphanage, never having known my parents. The only thing that separated the orphans were their parent��s decision. Whether to drop them off as babies, or to cast them aside when they were slightly older.��

    John paused with a gulp.

    ��Old enough to remember their parents faces.��

    Aaron sat up, listening closely. The Sheriff sat in his chair, listening in as well, while pretending to read the papers.

    ��It was years before the incident. There was an orphan who was a couple of years older than me. He was fairly mature for his age. He��d been keeping an eye out on the younger ones.

    It was early in the morning, we just had breakfast, but one seat was empty.

    The day before, a new arrival joined us, you see. He was about my age back then, but didn��t say a word. He didn��t even come to eat. Looking back at it, I still can��t imagine his suffering. Being told by their parents that they don��t want them anymore. Remembering that moment like a painting, hung up everywhere. My childish innocent self tried to console him�� no�� it��s more like I wanted to be thanked, to seem mature. I brought him his breakfast on a tray. Plate with bread and a small cubelet of butter, on the side, a cup of hot choco,�� he took a long breath.

    ��I went to his room, opened the door, and walked inside. He was staring at the blank wall next to his bed. I tried to explain that I had brought him his breakfast, since he wasn��t there, but he stood up, walked towards me and pushed me down. Spilling the hot choco on the floor, and the food with it. The plate, shattered.��

    ��What��d he do that for?�� the Sheriff leans in.

    ��Well,�� John continues. ��He shouted at me, explaining to me that he��d been watching a lot of the kids now. He��d realized our main difference. Unlike the pity I had for him, to have been old enough to notice being thrown out and abandoned, he took pity on me. He claimed that he at least was given a chance, his parents didn��t dislike him right away. Instead, I had been a mistake, unloved from the beginning. Perhaps having ruined the life of a worker at the brothel. It shook me, I didn��t know what to say. He just ran out, leaving me there. Not knowing what to think. Then, the boy came in. The one older than me. He had long hair for his age, tied back at the back of his head,�� John said, playing around with his own hair.

    ��It was pitch black too, now that I remember it. Anywho, he��d come to see what the ruckus was about, and found me. Cleaning up the mess, he��d noticed that I was still silent. That��s when he told me about the smile.��

    John waited before quoting.

    ��People can say harsh words sometimes. The world�� the world can be harsh too. But simply sulking on the floor won��t do you any good,�� John then added. ��He said with a smirk.��

    ��Just smile. Don��t let that kind of stuff bother you.�� he finished. ��Then he helped me stand up while I helped him clean up. That�� those words never had any meaning to me. I didn��t understand yet, I was too young. But then the incident came by and I realized the meaning more than ever, as I saw many friends perish in sorrow, ignorant to help themselves, too busy by what they��d witnessed. They couldn��t move on����

    ��And so you smile,�� Aaron whispered. ��And you smirk, with only one intention, of acting tough and confident, when really, underneath, you are weak and unsure.��

    ��Hey now,�� John stood up, shouting in a slightly angry voice before dropping silent. ��It''s more complicated than that, but in a sense, yes. That smile, that gift was the thing that allowed me to survive. But I guess every now and then, that smile can turn around.��

    The room stayed quiet, nobody uttering a word, everyone lost in thought of that story as John simply thought and asked to himself. ��Nathan, are you still alive?��

    In the next chapter, John will continue to smile, as he figures out a way to save himself from the boredom inside the prison cell with steak! Follow him on his feast of an adventure in the next chapter of Steam��s Shadow!