A ship of steel, brass and wood slowly crawled towards a great towering metropolis of towering chimneys spilling smog and dyeing both the sky blackish grey.

The capital of the Empire, Lindholm was drawing closer by the minute as the ship made way for the bastion of reason and science. Towering spires surrounded the capitol, made from steel and laws of science were carved into the monolithic surfaces and then gilded with gold that glimmered in the midday sun.

Massive parchments hung like banners from them with formulas and definitions of the natural order. The laws of man, decreed and quantified by them. Observations, calculations. Theories. Truth.

The ship fell in line with the dozens of ships arriving from the mainland and headed for the great docks of the capitol in an orderly queue to unload their cargo.

A smiling man was standing at the bow along with other passengers and watched the great docks of Lindholm.

He wore undyed grey trousers held up by suspenders and a slightly bleached coarse shirt. His legs were bare of shoes and were wrapped in muddy cloth but stood among the deck with passengers of middling wealth.

The man’s blue eyes underneath wavy medium-length blond hair that hung loose in the wind watched the colossal colony ships of the empire with a serene curiosity.

The great ships were fully enveloped in metal and capable of descending into the depths of the sea to colonize them. They had their loading bays open, and people flowed around them with purpose like ants around their hives.

Massive pallets were unloaded from one of the ships, unmistakably filled with dried seaweed, to feed the ever-expanding capitol's demand for sustenance.

The man rubbed his angular jawline and enjoyed the coarse feeling of a stubble that had grown on to it as it observed Lindholm and its curios like the great clockwork towering above everything at the center of the capitol and next to it the eternal palace.

Their great vermillion banners lined in gold with a white center circle with a black laurel wreath gilded with gold opening upwards inside it, enveloped the palaces with two wings that surrounded the grand entrance to the court.

The greyish stone of the palace was lined with black metal with golden text like the monolith’s and at a distance looked like golden veins circulating the black metal.

As the ship docked the man rummaged through his pocket and brought out a chained metal medallion without any ornaments beyond a chain of silver attached to it and his trousers and opened it, revealing a folded letter attached to the lid. The container, itself housed a small nautilus-shaped seashell that fit perfectly into the medallion.

The shell was mostly white with black septa’s separating its chambers at its dorsal and its entrance was lined with uneven muddy red staining that quickly weathered to white.

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The man took the seashell and brought it to his ear before turning to watch the city once more.

Slowly a whisper came from the seashell, causing the man to feel vertigo as the world began to lose its color, becoming white and black before the two colors inverted suddenly.

The world was enveloped in black with a white city and its people swarming within in a multitude of shades of white mixed with black.

There was no other sound remaining beside the whisper. Intelligible ramblings in hushed tones.

He felt the breath of the lips sealed in the shell caress his earlobe as it whispered while he scanned the city.

He felt a certain wetness below his nose and an uncomfortable pressure inside it, his nose was bleeding, as the hushed unordainable whispers began to make sense, the desecrated lips kissed his ear and promised wisdom beyond the mundane with a seductive whisper.

With a frown, he sealed the shell back into the medallion and wiped his nose.

“Are you alright sir?” Came from his side as he wiped the blood away on his face with little progress.

The man turned towards the voice and smiled apologetically at the young couple who looked at him worriedly.

The couple was well off, but in a way that did not betray haughtiness nor superiority. A middle class of wealth with fine but well-used clothes that had been repaired occasionally by expert hands. The husband was slightly rotund with a thick brown mustache and the same colored short hair, hidden underneath a bowler hat and a dark everyday suit.

The wife wore a dress of deep blue with white lace covering her fully with a sun hat of the same color. Her wheat-colored hair and green eyes looked at the man with a slight worry as it was proper.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes, I apologize for showing such a sorry state of mine.” The man said with a slight league accent in his pronunciation.

The husband pulled out a napkin from his trouser pocket and handed it to the man with a friendly smile, to which the man's smile grew relieved, and he bowed slightly to the couple before taking the napkin and cleaning up.

“Many thanks, kind sir and madam.” The man said as he cleaned himself.

The couple smiled and the husband tipped his hat slightly in response. “Nothing serious I hope?” The husband asked politely.

The bloodied man jumped slightly at the question and waved around hurriedly in denial. “Oh heavens no, no, just some health problem I got when I worked as a child. Told it was what it was, but never remember what they called it.. Something with air..” The man sputtered out.

“Ah! Quite common I’ve heard.” The husband nodded in agreement before extending a hand towards the stranger, “Jones Walcott” He introduced himself. “And this is my lovely wife, Anna.”

The stranger smiled before looking at the bloodied white napkin awkwardly, but Jones waved him off with his other hand, indicating it was no issue. The stranger looked visibly relieved as he put the napkin into his pocket and shook Jones’ hand.

“Oscar Schwarzenmüller, a pleasure, and thank you,” Oscar said cheerfully as he shook Jones’ hand firmly.

Jones smiled as they shook hands, “Think nothing of it my friend from the League, I presume” He spoke, earning him a friendly nod of confirmation from Oscar.

With the handshake done Oscar turned to Anna and bowed slightly. “Matron.”

Anna smiled gracefully and curtsied in turn to him.

With the introduction out of the order, Jones cleared his throat to return Oscar’s attention to him, “I couldn’t help seeing how you listened to the seashell before your ailment acted out. An interesting item to carry around.” He queried curiously his wife nodding with interest.

Oscar laughed slightly and patted his trouser pocket. “A memento.”

“And a reminder.” He added as he fished out the medallion again and rubbed it with a thumb.

“Of a woman, mayhaps?” Anna asked in a gossipy voice as she covered her mouth as she gave a slight gossipy giggle. “A seashell from the beach visited with a lover at home?”

Oscar smiled at the question and looked at the medallion but shook his head in response, “Nothing as romantic, just a reminder of old life left behind.”

“All to disembark!” Came a shout from one of the crew, cutting the conversation short as the ship docked.

Oscar thanked the couple again before leaving the ship while holding the medallion while in his thoughts.

He gained nothing from the shell, the lips of the overdosed addict sealed in the seashell had given him nothing to work with, only empty promises and lies. As always..

The ability to see beyond the veil was a great boon from the lips who had pierced the veil and died on the other side.

Oscar opened the medallion and looked at the folded weathered ineligible letter as he walked into the crowded docks.

With a sigh, he closed the medallion once more and returned it to its rightful place in his pocket before joining the crowds.

He had now reached his beginning, Lindholm. A city of progress, enlightenment...

…And corruption, decadence and hedonism.

“The brightest light casts the greatest shadow,” Oscar muttered quietly before smiling and looking at the busy docks, filled with riches and opulence divided with destitution and poverty in one place.

A melding pot of controversies and cultures as the docks were filled with immigrants, workers and gentle folk alike. Separate but there.

‘A perfect place for a beginning’ He thought.