Gaius

As I happily turned from the door, I was yanked around by my collar to face a middle aged woman dressed in black robes. She wore a stern face at the moment but there was no hiding the maternal kindness she normally displayed. It takes a special kind of person to serve as the primary caretaker for ‘little ones’ of the orphanage.

“And where are you going?” asked Den Mother as I wrestled out of her grasp. Unfortunately, my stained robe ripped during the tussle. Not a surprising event given the condition of the clothing they gave to the poor ‘little ones.’ Den Mother frowned at the sight of the torn rag in her hand. My clothing had gone from one dirty rag, to a slightly smaller dirty rag, so no real loss there. However, I still glared at her for tearing my rag.

“Stop glaring! That's why the other little ones are scared of you. Now give me your clothes and I'll stitch it right up for you.” Said Den Mother, regaining her previous attitude and returning my glare.

“If you would stop grabbing me like that, then you won't have to keep fixing up these 'clothes’.” I said while raising my chin. “Oh and stop making me sit through those bullshit stories.” I remembered to add while I still had the momentum.

“For gods’ sake Gaius, it's the story of your namesake. Why can’t you just enjoy the stories like all the other little ones. Gaius, those are the true tales of the greatest heroes that everyone, including adults, know by heart.” Said Den Mother, looking rather exasperated. Lately, she's been giving me more of those looks than I’m comfortable with.

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

“I know that you are different... and I usually support that but...”

“Whatever...” I muttered while turning around and running off before her lecture could continue.

“Gaius!”

I ran through the corridor carved out from grey stone, making a series of quick turns through the claustrophobic former mine shaft. I ‘enjoyed’ my scenic travel through the tunnels of stone and rock illuminated by the artificial light shining from the crystal fixtures on the walls, installed by the dwarves. I slowed down as I reached the rusted ladder leading up to the manhole cover above. Climbing the rusted ladder, I lifted the small circular metal plate and tossed it over.

Exiting the former mine shaft, what greeted me was a plume of soot dislodged by tossing the metal plate. Coughing, I made my way out of the tunnel to the world above. Surrounding me were towering blocks of grey stone covered black in soot, which were carved and emptied to contain the industrial machines that fueled the city. Not far away a bursting billow of steam joined the ever present cloud hanging above. Even from here I could feel the heat. Whether underground or not I am still in the slums of Xi’an.

I carefully navigated around the complex network of metal pipes avoiding the ones that contained the intensely heated steam. Ahead of me I could see a service ladder leading above. After climbing the ladder, I made my way across a rusted metal walkway hidden within the layer of steam and soot. After what felt like an eternity in this sweltering steam, I stepped out onto the barely visible staircase leading above. Clearing the artificial cloud of steam, I could see my intended destination above me.

Sitting down on the edge of the rickety metal bridge suspended over the cloud of steam, he looked out upon the city. Periodically below him he could see the slums colored black by soot, only for it to be quickly swallowed up by the machines releasing more steam. The clanging of metal rang out followed by the yelling of foremen, still reaching my perch overseeing the slums.

Above him the metal bridges connecting the towers to one another caught most of the incoming snow. Looking past the bridges, he strained to see the trace amounts of starlight able to make it past the towering buildings and bridges of iron that enclosed him from his starry sky.

There resided the true citizens of Zhìhuì, living in their comfort and warmth. Their warmth was produced by the slums. Coal powered machines laid at their towers’ bases filled the slums with an ever present sweltering heat. There was no comfortable warmth to be found there.

This is what I fought for. This is what I created. My world of greys and blacks.