“Tell me. Why do you fight, Maxwell?”, A man asked in a gruff voice, raspy and low in tone. He was tall with bulky arms wearing a brown long-sleeve polo with traces of dirt embedded into the fabric.
“To protect my family.”, a teen answered.
Maxwell turned around after lacing his rugged leather prizefighting gloves. He stood 5’7’ft tall, having a lean physique with built shoulders and thighs, wearing a dirty white polo with sleeves folded up to his elbows, black slacks folded up to his knees, and rugged leather shoes.
The man then wore rough leather padding on his hands with straps surrounding his wrists before smacking them together, making quite a thud.
“Let’s get those strikes going.”, the man ordered.
Maxwell nodded before walking up to him, feeling the early morning breeze pass through his body. He took his stance, putting his left foot forward and right foot behind, raising his fists up, glaring at the man with his brown eyes.
“Left!”, the man barked.
Upon hearing the command, Maxwell’s left fist shot forward quickly with the man tapping and meeting it with his rough leather padding, making a sharp thud upon contact.
“Right!”
Maxwell pushed off his back foot and rotated his hips and torso, right hand shooting out straight like a cannonball, making a sharp thud on the padding once more.
Satisfied with the thud, the man walked around Maxwell as he lowered the pads, with Maxwell following him, staying in stance at all times.
“Left Right!”
Maxwell threw a left-right punch combination-
The man however, shot his left hand straight, hitting Maxwell in the face, the rough leather digging into his cheekbone which dazed him a little.
“Keep those hands up, boy.”, the man ordered in a strict tone. Maxwell nodded in response, keeping his glare at him.
“Left Right!”
Maxwell threw another combination, with him raising his right hand pre-emptively after, blocking the left punch from the man with the back of his glove. Seeing the man move his right shoulder, Maxwell folded his left arm as he raised it to the side of his head, blocking a wide swing with his left bicep.
“Move your head a little too.”, the man ordered once more.
“Left Right!”
Maxwell did the same combination before bending his legs, pre-emptively moving his head to the right, the wind blowing through his dark hair as the punch missed- before bending his legs further, weaving under the following wide swing.
“Body!”
Hearing a bark of command, Maxwell stepped forward with his left foot, throwing a left punch at the man’s gut. Grunting at the blow, the man then marched forward, grabbing a hold of the back of Maxwell’s head and pulling it down, dragging it around as he moved sideways.
Maxwell resisted, moving closer to the man to reach for the back of his head, pulling down as well. Both men were contesting in breaking each other’s posture. While clinching, both men went for a knee strike, but their shins and knee caps met at the middle, a thud coming out from the impact. Maxwell threw a knee to the gut after but the man had foreseen this, so as the knee was raised, the man swept Maxwell’s other foot with a sweeping kick, sending him falling sideways down to the cold dirt.
“What’s wrong, kid? You aren’t as sharp as you normally are.”, the man asked.
“…I’m nervous for my match today, father.”
The man gave a slight smile and tugged his chin upward, telling Maxwell to stand up.
“Too bad, kid. That feeling won’t go away, even if it’s your fifth match… but there is one key to dealing with it.”
“How, father?”, Maxwell asked. The man then approached Maxwell, placing the leather mitts onto his shoulders.
“Remember the reason you fight. Tell me, Maxwell. Why do you fight?”
“To protect my family… to protect my younger brother.”, Maxwell chanted. This sentence was drilled into his mind as much as his strikes.
“Good. Never forget that. When we suffer, we tend to forget the reason we fight. Carve it into your mind and heart, Maxwell.”
“Yes, father!”
Maxwell took his stance again. His glare was more intense and his stance was more loose now.
“There we go.”, the man said with a grin.
Both men trained as the sun rose up, with Maxwell’s strikes sounding sharper and sharper despite being thrown to the ground multiple times. After the training, the two then headed to their humble home. It was a medium-sized house built with wood and reinforced by scrap metal salvaged from the junkyard.
“Your brother should be awake by now, go check on him. Don’t forget to head to the bathhouse during our shift.”, Maxwell’s father ordered.
“Understood, father.”. Maxwell said before entering their home.
Maxwell’s father then brought a towel with him, heading for the bathhouse early to prepare for labor. The town’s main produce was coal which was used to power steam engines from across the nation.
“Tobias? You awake?”, Maxwell called as he entered the “garage” of their home. Inside the oil lamp lit garage were gears and tools of different sizes scattered across the wooden floor, various clockwork inventions resting on the ledges, and glass scraps conjoined together in a wide, landscape mirror attached to the wall. Tobias was there, standing on his hands and the top of his head as he stared at himself in the makeshift mirror while folding his legs into different patterns.
“Yup, waaay earlier than you. What’s up?”, Tobias asked, kicking up with his heels into a handstand before letting his feet fall down gracefully and standing up.
“Up early again? You know you won’t grow taller if you don’t get enough sleep, pipsqueak.”, Maxwell teased. Tobias was a few inches shorter than Maxwell, and sports a leaner build.
“Who cares ‘bout height when I can bust these moves?”, Tobias boasted. As he heard Tobias speak, Maxwell then explored the garage, walking up to the heavy iron workbench to see what looked like a larger music box, its crank moving as it sent out a basic drum beat loop.
“Well, it’s still a prototype but it’s lookin’ alright. Ole’ dwarf pops let me take his extra gears and scraps.”, Tobias said as he followed. He had been studying under a local gearsmith as an apprentice, as he seemed to have a knack for creating machismo as well.
“Fancy. Are you going to show it to your mentor?”
“Yeah- ‘bout time I showed him what’s up!”, Tobias exclaimed happily. After a few idle talks, the two then organized the garage together. Not too long afterward, a loud mechanical siren shrieked throughout the town and into their home, with an announcement telling all the workers to start mining. The two then grabbed their towels and headed for the bathhouse themselves.
As they strolled around town, the two can’t help but look at their surroundings. It was a very gritty town, with buildings made out of cement and reinforced with iron and brass pipes to supply their engines with steam. Various symbols and artwork were drawn on the side of the walls, teens forming circles on the side imitating percussion sounds as another teen rapped and another teen danced, a rebellious culture forming in plain sight. Most working men are either welders, construction workers, miners, firefighters, and engineers. The bathhouse was located at the middle of the town, and supplies most of the steam due to its constant usage. It was free of charge and is a hot bath, with the steam produced being used to dry clothes and to power nearby engines connected with iron pipes.
After undressing, the two then took a deep breath before dipping into the hot bath with their towels tied around their waist, gritting their teeth as they test their tenacity. Not even half a minute later, Tobias quickly hopped out, his pale skin now a tinge of red, with Maxwell conceding not too long after. The both of them then headed into the washroom, where they rinse themselves with warm water and clean their clothes by washing and drying them with steam. Afterward, the two then headed to their respective duties, with Tobias heading into the gearsmith’s shop while Maxwell headed for the local prizefighting scene.
Tobias pushed open the reinforced door with his shoulder, metal chimes clanging above as he entered.
“Yo, dwarf pops. I got somethin’ new for ya, hehe.” Tobias said with a slight smile, holding his prototype carefully with both hands. Inside the store was a bulky man with brown overgrown facial hair braided at the beard placing his muscular arms on the counter.
“’nother one o’ your pretty toys?”, the dwarf asked in a rough, guttural voice. Tobias then placed the prototype onto the counter with a smirk. Tobias winded up the box with its crank several times, before releasing it, with the box’s crank moving in a reversed direction as it began to play the same basic drum beats.
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“Mhm. Ye made this wit’ the scraps I gave ye?”, The dwarf asked as he lifted it, examining the exterior.
“Yup, took me some damn time to find the right gears. It’s all clockwork- hey, what the hell!?”
As Tobias talked, the dwarf man quickly disassembled the prototype carefully to see its inner mechanisms. With silent nods, he examined the clockwork contraption that helped tap the two miniature drums inside to produce a basic beat.
“Good, but good can always be better.”, the dwarf said before placing it down on the counter and hopping down. He sat previously on a high stool, with him walking as tall as the counter now. He then entered the storage room, waving his hand for Tobias to come over, with the both of them browsing through boxes of gears to find better pieces and proportions. Afterward, the two of them quickly got to work, hammering iron sheets for the base and exterior before screwing in the clockwork mechanisms along with the miniature drums, making a more refined version of the prototype in the span of three hours. The now refined version had three cranks on the sides triggering three different mechanisms. The prototype can now produce beats at fast, normal, and slow tempos.
“Now, what would ye like to call it?”, the dwarf asked, looking up at Tobias, who was mesmerized by the final product.
“Beatbox.”, he whispered, still stuck in a trance of their own creation. The dwarf then smirked, and then tapped Tobias’ back which almost seemed like a shove with his powerful arms.
“Go an’ take yer “Beatbox” home with ye, but I want you back here workin’ tomorrow.”, the dwarf said as he moved back to the counter, climbing up and sitting onto the high school. Tobias then thanked the dwarf, before heading outside, eager to show his brother his latest creation.
Meanwhile…
Cheers and shouts then filled the place, as a crowd of men surrounded an elevated platform with ropes sealing all sides. A man wearing white long sleeves underneath a black vest paired with dark slacks and shoes then climbed up the stairs and entered through the ropes.
“And now, for our main event!”, the man announced. He then announced the two combatants. With his name being called out, Maxwell walked up the platform with his bare chest exposed, wearing boxer shorts and shoes along with hands padded with rough leather. He had a record of 7 wins and 3 losses. Maxwell’s opponents then climbed up the ring as well, having a short and stocky build wearing the same attire with 5 wins and no losses, a rising star in the local prizefighting scene. Afterward, another man then stepped up to the ring, wearing white polo with respective slacks and shoes, and a short bow tie underneath the collar.
“Remember the rules, no eye gouging, ear biting, groin striking, and no pinning the opponent down. Protect yourselves at all times, touch gloves if you want to.”, the referee ordered before stepping back. Maxwell then reached forward for a glove touch, but his opponents smacked his hand away, refusing the pleasantries. Both fighters then took their stance, with Maxwell standing in an orthodox stance while his opponent took a more squared stance, keeping his hands close to their cheek as they moved side to side with their head.
Maxwell wanted to test the waters, so he stepped forward with his left foot, left arm shooting out into a jab. The opponent swiftly slipped his head to the left, countering with a swinging left hook which caught Maxwell in the body. Maxwell winced a bit from the blow, and the opponent continued rushing forth like a raging bull, unloading ferocious swinging punches at Maxwell, and all Maxwell could do was cover up like a turtle, guarding himself.
“What’s the matter!? Fight back!”
“Don’t just stand there and take it!”
“What, your momma didn’t teach you how to fight back!?”
Various taunts began to spread throughout the crowd, but they fell on deaf ears as Maxwell was focused despite being hit harshly. As the opponent winded up for another swing, Maxwell’s brows furrowed, taking a sudden step forward, left fist shooting out like a piston and stopping the raging bull in his tracks with a counter. His opponent was dazed, with Maxwell swiftly pushing off his feet right after, right leg raising and hip thrusting into a front teep kick, his shoe digging into the opponent’s chest and making him stagger backward.
“He moves fast with his head, and he twists with his whole body in every strike… damn, that motherfucker hits hard.”, Maxwell thought to himself. Seeing the opponent charge forth again with the lateral head movement, Maxwell then used his footwork to pivot and dance away, using this time to swiftly strategize. He then noticed that each time the opponent turns, he leads with his torso, taking a second to reposition his feet and start charging again.
Maxwell then suddenly stood his ground, letting the opponent catch up to him. As the opponent bent his legs to wind up for another swing, Maxwell tilted his shoulder, feinting a jab. The opponent bit into the feint, leaning back in hesitation, to which Maxwell took advantage of, pivoting with his left foot as his hips and torso swung into a leg kick, his right shin ramming into the opponent’s thigh. The opponent’s knee buckled, with Maxwell pivoting to the side to move out of harm’s way. He then repeated the same strategy, letting his opponent to get close only to be stung with punches and slowed down by leg kicks. The opponent was now visibly exhausted, his thigh now swelling up. Maxwell then picked up the pace, stepping up to swarm him with punches, forcing the opponent to curl up defensively. Since curling up obstructed the opponent’s vision, Maxwell then continued to throw leg kicks, eager to cripple the enemy. Maxwell was calm and methodical in his violence, backstepping whenever the opponent swung out of desperation, and coming back to swarm at him again with punches and smash his legs again with the leg kicks in a fluid combination. The opponent then eventually fell down, as the thighs were too swollen and painful to support his weight standing up. The referee then checked up on his opponent and upon seeing that he couldn’t stand anymore, he waved it off.
“Technical Knockout!”, the announcer shouted. The referee then walked up to Maxwell, raising his padded fist up as cheers and screams emerged from the crowd. Upon descending the ring, Maxwell was then handed the prize, a sum of five silver coins enough to keep him afloat for a while.
“Maxwell!”, a distant voice shouted. Maxwell then turned to see that it was Tobias running up to him, which he then greeted with a smile.
“The match… is it over?”, Tobias asked. With a single glance at Maxwell, Tobias knew the answer, as swelling began to form on his face, and bruises appeared on his forearms.
“Yeah. Took you too long, though. Anyways, how’s turkey for dinner-“
A loud siren then began to shriek throughout the town, followed by an urgent announcement. This siren sounded more like a bloodcurdling scream, sending chills to those who might hear.
“Warning, seek immediate evacuation! The mana demons have breached the town! I repeat, seek immediate evacuation, the mana demons have breached the town!”, the man behind the announcement exclaimed with hints of fear and panic in his voice.
“Mana demons?”, Tobias asked, the two unaware of the term- but the crowd around them ran and screamed in panic, making it painfully obvious that the two should get the hell out of there.
“We should get back home, and find father!”, Tobias exclaimed before sprinting recklessly. Maxwell nodded and followed despite his pains from the previous match. The two ran among the fleeting crowd before taking a turn, separating themselves from the herd.
“Father!? Father!”, the two called out. They then heard nearby thuds, followed by a nerve-wracking sight. In front of them was a four-legged creature with a stature similar to a wolf, with jet black fur, red glowing eyes filled with bloodlust, and talon-like claws ready to mangle them with a single swipe. It’s as if black mist oozed out from its body, with the path behind them covered with light devouring darkness. The creature approaches slowly… with the two brothers frozen in fear.
Seeing the creature approach, both Maxwell and Tobias felt shivers in their spine as their stomachs turned. Its steps left an imprint on the brick road, a dark haze oozing out of the paw marks.
Just as Maxwell wanted to cower away and run for his life, a familiar voice echoed in his mind. It was his father's, constantly repeating what he had said earlier this day like a broken record.
"When we suffer, we tend to forget the reason we fight. Tell me, Maxwell, why do you fight?"
"...To protect my family. ...To protect my younger brother.", Maxwell chanted, feeling the paralyzing fear slowly wash away from his system. He had chanted these words religiously for all of his life, and served him well when he was nervous before a match. Maxwell locked eyes with the dark beast, giving an uneasy glare as he stared at its crimson eyes. Maxwell knew very well that it'd be almost impossible to escape- let alone take the beast head on... but he had to take his chances. He swiftly stepped in front of his brother, before throwing the coin pouch with all its might. The wolf continued in its terrifying approach, thinking that the throw was just a desperate attempt, until-
The pouch landed on the mana demon's forehead, causing it to wince in pain and take unsteady steps backward. As the pouch of silver coins fell down to the ground, it left a distinct mark on the wolf's forehead. It revealed gray fur underneath the cloak of darkness, with some smoke flying from out of the mark. Both Maxwell and Tobias had their eyes wide open in surprise. The mana demon then shook its head, now glaring at the two, before sending a loud bark which echoed like thunderclouds. The bark sent their ears ringing, so Maxwell responded with a roar himself- a desperate battlecry against impossible odds.
Maxwell raised his fists, a cold sweat sliding down from his forehead. Both his fists and knees were shaking, but he knew he had to act tough in front of his brother. The mana demon then howled which sounded like the screams of the damned, before bending its four legs, preparing to pounce. The mana demon then pushed off, and it’s as if time had slowed down as Maxwell saw impending doom approaching… but something fast moved as well in the corner of his eyes.
From out of nowhere, a warhammer out of brass smashed harshly against the mana demon as it was in mid-air, sending it tumbling to the side. The two kids then glanced at who wielded the brass warhammer. The man had a short and stocky build, his body clad in bronze plate armor, and had chestnut beard flowing from out of his helmet. The man then glanced at the two, then back at the mana demon who struggled to get up.
“What are you two doing!? Get out of here and evacuate!”, the man yelled, before tightening his grip as he saw the mana demon get back onto its feet. The dwarf warrior then engaged with the beast, flailing about with his hammer, a heavy sound coming from the air. The mana beast had sharp instincts however, moving out of the man’s blows before engaging, clawing at the armor and denting it.
“Let’s get out of here, Tobi!”, Maxwell whispered as he stepped back.
“Wait!”, Tobias whispered back.
Tobias looked at the pouch and looked at the mana beast. He then remembered a faint dialogue from his dwarf mentor, saying that “silver” was the purest of them all. Perhaps silver could help “purify” the beast?
“Tobias!”, Maxwell called as he saw Tobias bolt forward recklessly, rolling on the ground to quickly grab the pouch of silver. Meanwhile, the dwarf warrior was actively distracting the wolf, with the creature turning its back on the two kids so they may escape.
“Take this!”, Tobias yelled, hurling the silver pouch once more. The wolf’s sharp instincts then caused it to flinch, before dashing away from the pouch. However, it was a fatal mistake, as it seemed to dash into the weapon’s trajectory. The dwarf warrior then glared as he saw it dash, pressing a button in the handle as he swung. Steam then began to shoot out from the warhammer’s head, boosting the hit and increasing its speed and power, the other end ramming hard into the wolf and sending it rolling into a wall, the impacts forming cracks and causing concrete to fall on top of it.
Maxwell stared at Tobias in awe. The very brother he protected all his life ended up risking his life and saving him instead? But after realizing this, he shook his head, running up to the pouch of silver and up to Tobias despite the aches in his body. Tobias then looked back at Maxwell, expecting a long scolding session.
“That was reckless! You could have died! But…”
Maxwell then raised his hand, patting his brother on the head.
“That was epic.”, he whispered with a smile. Tobias can’t help but to rub the back of his neck, dismissing it as just a gamble. Meanwhile, the dwarf warrior then walked up to the mana beast, who seemed unconscious. The dwarf then reached behind his belt, pulling out a sphere of bronze, prying the cap open and revealing a gemstone inside. Black colors then rose up from the demon and moved into the gemstone, while the mana demon slowly shrunk in size, turning out to be a pup with gray fur all along. The two boys then watched in awe, before the dwarf warrior picked up the pup and walked up to them. The two boys had similar expressions, as if they found an “idol”. Maxwell admired the dwarf man’s for his strength and fighting skills, while Tobias was mostly staring at the dwarf man’s warhammer and its mechanisms.
“I told ye two to get the ‘ell outta ‘ere, but thanks fer the help.”, the dwarf man said in a voice akin to Tobias’ mentor. The two boys thanked the dwarf man, and suddenly remembered that they should check up on their home. The dwarf man said that the two of them should scurry off, and promised that he’ll watch their back, so they did.
“No… way…”
Both boys were left speechless as their home was left in ruin, the medium house now a big pile of scrap and wood.
“Father!? Father!?”, the two boys called out as they checked around in place. Just as their doubts crept in and slowly driving them into tears, they heard a piece of scrap fall, with their father emerging from a pile. The two then quickly scurried off, lifting the debris and helping their father stand up.
“Sorry to make you two worry.”, their father said in between grunts. In his hands were their prized possessions, Maxwell’s leather training gloves and Tobias’ toolbox. The fact that their father risked his own life just for their stuff finally drove the two into tears, the both of them hugging the man. After the sweet reunion, the two then finally calmed down.
“…Our home’s gone.”, Tobias said in a gloomy tone. From behind them, hulking steps can be heard as the dwarf man followed soon after, seeing the huge pile of debris. The three then lowered their heads, not knowing where to go on from here.
“’tis a shame. I can keep the two boys safe, but there ain’t no room left in my house fer a grown man. The place’ll be in quarantine ‘til it’s safe again.”, the dwarf man said.
“I do not mind what happens to me, but I do wish that you keep my boys safe.”, his father stated, before kneeling down in humility.
“Ain’t no need fer pleasantries, but I will warn ye, though. I saw potential in these two kids, I’ll be trainin’ ‘em to become Steam Hunters.”
The father had his eyes wide open in surprise for a second, before his lips curled into a faint smile. He felt conflicted at the thought, but if it meant securing a better future for the two, he was all in it.
“I approve of it. Knowing Tobias, he’s probably eager to learn all about your machinations.”, the father said as he rose up. He then turned around to see both his sons with concern in their eyes. While the two would love to join the dwarf man, it pains them to say farewell to their father.
“Maxwell, keep Tobias safe… and Tobias, try not to be too reckless, alright?’, their father said, with the two boys nodding. Maxwell then offered the pouch of silver coins to their father and was refused, but through sheer stubbornness, their father finally gave in and took the coins. The two then said their final farewells before the four walked up to the evacuation area, riding two separate trains.