I clung to my father as tightly as I could. My father guided us quickly down alleys and back streets that were mostly sparse, save for the handful of confused and terrified citizens who were stupidly poking their heads out their windows to see what the hell was going on. The attack on the city was precise and chaotic at the same time, and it was all about causing as much damage as possible.
The city had been pounded by four gigantic cylinders similar to what I’d seen when coming down from the Duskland mountains. Now there was a swarm of pusher aircraft that I never even knew existed in this world, bombing the absolute shit out of the airfield. I couldn’t see the battle taking place on the opposite end of town; occasionally, as I clung to my father, I could see faint dots of these aircraft buzzing their way up into the air before banking around to dive back towards the field before disappearing behind clouds of smoke and buildings. I could, however, hear how intense the battle was raging.
Anti-air weapons, originally made to fight dragons and other flying monsters fired their guns into the air blindly. I could tell due to bolts of energy shooting off into the air constantly going wide and nowhere as the small craft speed outpaced any slow-flying dragon or bird. They were practically invincible, from what I could tell.
That is until the sky exploded. Now, what I’m about to describe is something a bit odd and hard to put into place. Have you ever played with a camera on a phone? Stupid question, I know. Pretty much everyone had a mobile phone back when I died. When playing with that phone, have you ever messed with the filters? What about the negative filter? You know the one—the one that makes every color the opposite. Everything turns into blacks, whites, blues, and other weird colors, and everything looks freaky and monochromatic.
Yeah, that’s what I saw. In real time.
It was like the world had suddenly engaged a negative filter for a brief second. Everything hung as if the universe had encountered a lag spike in a video game. My brain screamed as this roaring sound shook the city for only a microsecond, and then, as if someone snapped a finger, everything returned to normal, and my father crumpled forward. Thankfully, Isa was able to catch him as we all slumped against the wall of a shop in the center of an alleyway.
“What the hell was that?!” My father gasped as if the air had been ripped from his lungs.
My head ached with a migraine as I groaned and rested my head against his shoulder as Isa panted and said, “I have no clue. Yanky magisters probably,” she said, and if the universe wanted to prove she was correct, a Rusvite aircraft came roaring overhead. We all immediately dove, just as a blinding streak of lightning shot out from a nearby rooftop and towards the craft and licked its rear. There was a blinding blue flash, and I clenched my eyes shut as the aircraft exploded into a blue and red fireball and debris.
“Hell, we need to keep going.” My father took a couple of deep breaths. “My head is killing me.” He groaned, and I took a deep breath.
“I might be able to help,” I said, placing a hand on the side of his head and muttering the incantation for resilience that my mother had been teaching me to help treat my chest pains.
After a second, my father sighed and smiled at me. “That does help,” he said. “Make sure you treat Isa and yourself.”
“I’ll be fine,” Isa said, and my father shook his head.
“No. I need you at one hundred percent,” he said, and Isa frowned.
“Slyran, trust me--” Father held a finger up to her and wagged it.
“Ah, ah! Cut the bullshit; I can tell by your ears you’re feeling that migraine too,” he said, and Isa frowned as Father set me down and allowed me to move on my own.
I stumbled a little and groaned as my head ached, but after taking a few seconds to massage my temples and mutter the incarnation, I sighed as the pain began to steadily ease up. With a deep breath, I turned to Isa and gestured for her to kneel in front of me. Reluctantly, she did so, and I placed my hands on the sides of her head and began to recite the verse.
“Resilience,” I said softly, and my hands gleamed faintly as the healing ether transferred from my body into hers. Isa sighed faintly and smiled as she muttered her thanks and stood up. “Alright,” she said and looked at my father. “Slyrann, how far are we from Aenorin and Saria’s residence?”
My father curled his lips in, his mouth turning into a straight line beneath his well-groomed goatee. He turned to Isa and blinked a couple of times before shaking his head and saying the horrid words, “I don’t know.”
Isa’s eyes narrowed on him, and immediately he held a finger up again and said before she could react, “But I will find out.” He dropped his hand back to his side just as another distant explosion caused the city to tremble and a chorus of screams to echo with it.
The sounds of combat and so many screaming people caused my anxiety to flare to a degree I was having trouble tolerating. One would think that, having gone through so much already, I should be used to this by now, and maybe some people would’ve. I am not one of those people. Every boom and every cry made my hair stand on end. So many people were getting hurt and dying, and yet here I was, in an alleyway with my father and homeschool teacher.
I wanted to go out there and help people, but part of me also wanted to run. I was conflicted. I was almost paralyzed. Yet I knew I couldn’t do either; I had to be right here with my father and Isa. Already, I had helped my father twice; I had fixed his broken arm from when he first fell and now his migraine. I was helping, even if it wasn’t the way that I wanted to.
You’re no hero, Luna. I told myself. You’re just a young... A young girl who’s a prodigy with magic. That’s all. I repeated it in my head, trying to calm myself. It wasn’t working.
While I was trying to compose myself, my father and Isa were having an animated discussion on how to get back home, and finally, my father clapped his hands together. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, turning to me, and I flinched as another, much closer explosion erupted a few blocks away. “Luna, are you okay?” Father kneeled in front of me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
I nodded and gulped. “I-I think so; j-just scared,” I admitted and stuttered.
My father smiled sadly, and seeing those pitiful eyes made what little ego I had die. I took a deep breath and said in a slightly more confident tone, “I’m okay.”
My father sucked in some air as well and sighed. “Okay,” he said. “We’re going to be heading back out there.” He gestured towards the open streets. “I’m going to need to carry you some more.” I nodded as he stared me in the eyes. “Luna,” he continued, “you’re not going to like this, but we cannot stop. If you see hurt people or folk calling for help, we have to keep moving.”
I gritted my teeth and broke eye contact. It sucks, but he’s right. I told myself inwardly. Any moment left in the open leaves us with the possibility of something bad happening. Such as a Rusivite gunning for more war crimes to add under their belt, or perhaps collateral damage from a bomb. Or worse, if those cylinders contain fighting machines, we could be caught by one of them. It sucked, but it was true.
I slowly nodded my head, and my father sighed. Relief at the knowledge he wouldn’t have to argue with me lifted off of his shoulders. “Okay.” He smiled and squeezed my shoulder. “Let's get going then.”
----------------------------------------
Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about seeing dead or injured people along our route home. Aside from a few stray bolts shot from the aircraft weapons and a bomb that it dropped going off course, there was very little damage to the portion of town that was traveling through. Most injuries I did see were people with minor cuts and bruises from small vehicular crashes or diving for cover every time an aircraft flew overhead. This just hammered home the idea that Father’s prediction was right—the Rusitives were targeting only the airfield, mostly.
I say mostly because as we pushed our way through crowding spectators and rushed down the street, I noticed plumes of smoke over the building's tops in the direction of Trentonville. Isa noticed this as well, and I saw as she gulped and looked at me, and I could read the concern written across her face.
Either a bomb had landed in the refugee camp or, worse, a cylinder.
To make my mental state even more of a shitshow. As my father hurriedly carried me through the city streets, my fears of what happened to Anne and Oscar began to bubble up. At first, I was shocked by everything going on; it hadn’t officially clicked that they were experiencing the worst of it. They were at the airfield, and they were being bombed right then and there. I clenched my eyes at the thought and shook my head as I clung to my father tighter. Oscar said he’d keep in touch; he said Anne was only unconscious; maybe they could make it out or find someplace safe.
Maybe.
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Oscar Reynolds
Oscar knew the universe hated him. In reality, hate wasn’t the appropriate word. It despised him, and you know what he thought? Fuck the universe; the universe is my bitch. When in reality, it was more or less the opposite. The universe loved to bend Oscar over its hardened knee and spank the absolute shit out of him. It really made sense; Oscar’s entire career is based around fucking the universe and its laws of physics. Within the artificer community, it’s common knowledge that magrite, ether, and all of its magical capabilities go against the confirmed laws of physics. No one knows why ether can bend the known universe and what some scholars are referring to as “space-time,” and many suspect there’s probably some other form of rules that Enorans just hadn’t caught onto, and because of that, the universe hates it.
Oscar knew this. He knew this very well. Trouble came to him no matter where he went; he hadn’t noticed it till last when he was visiting his mother and father for VE-Day, which was a Yanky holiday for “Victory for Enora,” which celebrates the defeat of the Dark Lord. It was a common family get-together; everyone from siblings, cousins, nephews, and relatives he never knew he had all got together. Especially for elves, such get-togethers can get a bit out of hand to the point where you don’t even know half the folk or half the people you hadn’t seen in like three hundred years, and oh boy, whenever that happens, Great Grandad Kelver gets furious. He always nags about how the “youngins” are always too excited to run off and never check in on their elders, and that they should be considerate and see how the ancient ones are doing.
Anyway, it was because of his stupid, arrogant, boastful ass that he got himself into this mess in the first place. At the party, he told his mother about how he and his team at Lambert Arms and Manufacturing had been invited to the Heinmarran Arms Trade Show. It would’ve been the first time in over two hundred years since he last set foot in Eurion, and it was this knowledge that excited his older brother Kasper and his sister-in-law Antonia.
"Oh, you should come visit us, Oscar,” Antonia said with a pleading look in her eye.
“Aye, set the wrench down and come sit by our fire,” his brother said. “Anne would be ecstatic to meet you.”
“Oscar,” his mother then chided. “You have yet to meet your niece?” She then shook her head with a tsk, a motion that sent a chill down his spine. In his younger years, such motion would follow a wooden spoon across his back. “Have you no love for your family?” She then looked at him sadly, an expression that sent his heart deep into his stomach.
Oscar tried to argue that he had been busy and didn’t have time to visit family, though his mother would have none of it. In Elven society, seniority always comes first. The eldest elf always carried the final say in many situations, and Oscar knew it would be pointless to continue arguing with his mother.
Seeing as Oscar would be traveling to Heinmarr, more specifically Johanneson, he wouldn’t be far from his brother and sister-in-law’s home. Thus, because Mommy Reynolds told him to, Oscar went to visit his brother’s family. Which, honestly, wasn’t bad. It was a mild smack from the universe. Going to see his relatives wasn’t so bad, except for the fact he had to meet his niece, Anne.
Oscar was never good with kids. Or at least, he thought he never got along well with them. They always seemed to get on his nerves, or maybe he just lacked the patience. So when the universe decided that it was time for Kasper and his wife to go on a lovely vacation to Branoria and offered to pay Oscar to watch over their daughter, he was stunned. Oscar could’ve refused his older brother’s request, but once again, society would’ve frowned upon such a thing, and his reputation amongst his family would’ve been tarnished.
In times such as this, Oscar hated his own culture, but more importantly, the universe. However, it was here that the universe decided to ease slightly on Oscar because it was such an event that forced him to interact more with Anne. When it came to kids, Anne was quite intelligent for her age, and not only that, she stuck mostly to herself. Like most of his relatives, Anne was raised and taught the native language of Heinmarr, Maurich, but also her ancestral language, Yanky, and a touch of ancient Common.
Oscar knew several languages as well: Yanky (his native tongue), Rusimian, Frennon, and the tiniest amount of Maurich and Common. So he had nothing to fear when it came to any form of language barrier when dealing with the kid. So things seemed to be going well for old Oscar when he accepted the offer to watch over Anne. And you know what? Things seemed to be going well, until the universe decided that enough was enough and threw a Rusivite cylinder outside the village of Dredsten after a bloody war kicked off. The universe truly hates Oscar Reynolds, and this is only a small, but juiciest, taste of what the universe has thrown at this man.
And of course, the universe wasn’t done. Today of all days, the one day that it seemed like he could get his niece out of this blasted hell hole of a country when his countrymen came to yank his ass out of the fire along with his niece to take them home, the universe turned and stared him in the eyes and uttered one word.
“No.”
Fuck the universe.
When the UPS Master of Air was converted into a miniaturized star before Oscar’s eyes, not only were he and Anne blinded, but the shock wave of the detonation of the airship’s arcanium engine nearly collapsed the terminal. It was due to Oscar’s quick reaction that Anne didn’t get a face full of glass when the old man yanked her away from the window.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
He hadn’t realized at first what he had seen. Only that something skimmed across the sky before barreling into the master’s envelope and puncturing its hull. The explosion was deafening, the heat immense; Oscar’s ears rang, and his head was racked with a migraine. All he could see were splotchy colors and vaguely blurred shapes when he opened his eyes. He felt his body being pressed against something hard and stiff, and his brain gradually began to compose itself. He realized he was lying on the floor, and clutched against him was Anne. She wasn’t moving.
Panicked Oscar straightened up, blinked the blurriness from his eyes, and checked on his niece. Placing two fingers against her throat to check her status, he sighed with relief when he felt a steady pulse. She was only unconscious. Then another series of explosions snapped Oscar back to the present, and he glanced outside the shattered windows to see small and swift machines zipping over the airfield as they flew towards other Yanky airships sitting defenseless on the tarmac.
Oscar didn’t have the time to ponder what those strange flying machines were and quickly grabbed ahold of Anne and shook her. She did not respond. Cursing softly, his ears twitched when, over the panicked yells of other refugees and airport personnel, he heard a familiar voice.
“Anne, Anne? Can you hear me? Anne?” It was Anne’s friend, Luna's voice, Oscar grunted as he shifted over to see the caster he had made the other night lying haphazardly on its side. The outer frame was damaged, the mirror cracked, and he was amazed it was still working.
Reaching for it, he picked it up. “Luna?” He said it in a pained tone, wishing he had studied more of the Maurich language.
The young, dark-haired elf’s face lit up, her blue eyes practically shimmering. "Oh, thank God, Oscar!” She exclaimed, and for some reason, the first thought that came to Oscar’s mind was him wondering what god she could be thanking. “ Where’s Anne?” She then asked.
Just outside, another Yanky airship detonated, and Oscar knew it was the ship’s magazine as the explosion was massive like that of the first. He flinched and dove as the flash once again sent his vision swirling. He blinked once more and cursed himself mentally for not learning the language better, as he wished he could tell the young one more. So instead, he opted to state what he could.
“Alive, unconscious. We go, you go!” He said more so to himself than Luna as he pushed himself to his feet, lifted Anne off the ground with one arm, and held her tightly to his chest.
Suddenly, Luna’s face vanished from the caster and was replaced by the visage of the youngin, which was Slyrann. “Elder, what is happening?” The boy asked, and Oscar couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration at such an idiotic question.
“We’re under attack!” He barked just as another airship exploded, and he flinched.
"Everyone, please report to the emergency shelter!” Shouted a Yanky officer, and alongside them, a Heinmarran translated.
Unable to contain his frustration, Oscar glared at Slyrann and said, “Duh!” But he immediately felt bad afterward and said, “We rush for cover. You should as well! I will keep in touch!” He then closed the caster, or at least as best as he could, as the hinge jammed partway when he tried to shut the lid, but it was just enough to end the call.
Stuffing it into his pocket, he gripped Anne tightly to his chest and ducked with a startled yelp. Just a torrent of energy bolts tore through the ceiling and peppered the interior with shrapnel as an aircraft strafed the building. The bolts were large and destructive, more powerful than the auto guns the fighting machines carried.
Knowing he didn’t have the time to ponder the destructive design of the Rusivite weapons, Oscar kept his head low and began to rush to... where? Where could he go? The Rusivites were in the air, dropping bombs on anyone and everything. Rushing outside the building could be suicide, and staying indoors risks the entire building crumbling on his head.
His eyes darted around the open terminal. Much of the building had cleared out by now, save for a few stragglers and people who weren’t so lucky. A few gruesome images caused by the recent strafe sent a cold chill down Oscar’s spine, and as he looked forward, he noticed the Yanky officer he had heard earlier.
A young human woman in a drab green dress uniform stood on top of a chair, waving her arms towards the few remaining citizens. The emergency shelter! Oscar’s eyes widened, and he inwardly chastised himself. Shaking his head, he bent over and snatched his single travel bag off the ground, holding Anne in his arms as he rushed towards the woman.
Oscar was one of the last to exit the terminal, and just in the nick of time, a second aircraft strafed the building as heavy bolts of ether tore through the concrete and shattered windows just where he had been standing.
The woman led them towards a heavy yellow emergency door and opened it, revealing a set of brightly yellow stairs leading deep into the terminal basement. Behind them, a loud crash could be heard as something burrowed through the concrete and metal ceiling, and before they could see what, the woman closed the door just as something exploded outside.
The ground heaved, and terrified screams filled the basement as dust and debris sprinkled from the ceiling. Magrite-powered lights that were strung along the ceiling flickered and pulsed as the world around them trembled with each successive explosion, before suddenly, they all went out. Panicked murmurings and sobbing could be heard all around as Oscar’s elven eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to see only in grayscale.
“I think we’re safe,” the yanky officer muttered in her native tongue.
Oscar took a deep breath and said, “Aye, I think so.” He breathed out slowly as he began to take slow, careful steps down, and his eyes flicked over a few Heinmarran warning labels on the walls. Though Oscar was poor when it came to speaking Maurich, he could read the language well—at least well enough to understand it.
The signs were not something he’d expect to see in an emergency bunker. “Ma’am,” he said, looking back towards the soldier, who was blindly flailing her arms around to find the stair rail. Humans always looked so goofy walking in the dark that Oscar couldn’t help but think. “This sign here says this is a maintenance entrance.”
The woman found her purchase on the rail and gripped it tightly as her other hand fumbled with one of her dress pockets. “That’s correct. We expected a potential attack like this, though not to this degree or with such technology; this tunnel supposedly connected to the airfield’s arcanium generator.” Just as she said, the woman yanked out of her pocket a magrite torch.
Essentially, what she held was a circular gemstone embedded in a metallic frame. Attached to the frame was a button she clicked with her thumb, and Oscar had to sharply turn away as the circular crystal began to shine a blueish-white light in a cone, illuminating the staircase.
“Finally, I can see again,” The woman said happily. “C’mon, let's get the hell away from this lead door in case it blows inward." Oscar said nothing and nodded in agreement.
Knowing his relationship with the universe, that door would be a death sentence.
----------------------------------------
It makes sense now. The bunker was a Renkan shelter housing the airfield generator, just like Lily said it was. Lily is the name of the officer who helped guide Oscar and Anne down into the shelter. First Lieutenant Lily Sheffield, or simply Lieutenant Sheffield. The bunker was crowded with people, mostly army personnel, though there were a handful of civilians, including Oscar and the airfield staff.
The term bunker was also used rather loosely. In reality, it’s a maintenance tunnel that, as mentioned, led to the small arcanium reactor. A bunker would suggest a place of long-term stay with food, water, and maybe even a bathroom. The Heinmaran forces and Yanky did convert most of this into a bunker of sorts, though if any of the staff were to pull Oscar aside and ask him to review the place, he’d give this bunker a one out of five-star rating.
Though that’s just him being an ass. The place was the best they were going to get, for now. The place was dark, damp, and depressing, for an obvious reason, of course. Most of the soldiers down there were doing their damnedest to keep calm, though a few were already buckling under the pressure. The civilians weren’t doing any better, and seeing a few soldiers cracking only made things worse.
Lieutenant Sheffield was quick to get those men and women into working order. “On your feet!” she barked to a few trembling yankys who were cowering with their rifles against the wall. She swiftly kicked their boots and jutted with a thumb upwards as she glared at the elven woman and halfling. “I need every ablebody ready--”
“But, Ma--” The halfling tried to interrupt but was silenced.
“Don’t “but” me, Pepperson,” Sheffield spat. “We’re the Global Expeditionary Force!” She declared. “Not to mention Yankys. Wylde tamers. Most of us dealt with tougher shit back home,” she said, referring to the Wylde Lands, a portion of the continent still claimed by the Fae. “We were sucker punched. Damn, Rustys caught us when we weren’t looking,” she snarled.
“What’re we supposed to do against those... things, ma'am?" The elf woman asked. “They blew up the Master and the other ships; th-the dragons were probably also caught in the blast. We have no air power!”
Oscar bit his lower lip as he listened to the soldiers while he carried Anne over to a small, clear spot in the tunnel. He gently laid her down and smiled faintly when he noticed her eyes were moving beneath their closed lids. Hopefully, in a few minutes, she’ll be awake.
Sheffield admittedly didn’t have an answer for the cowering soldiers. “I don’t know what we can do yet,” she admitted. “Most we can do now is assess the situation and adapt.” She turned towards the few dozen people crammed down in the tunnel. “Is there anyone else down here in charge?” She called out. “Any other officers?”
One hand rose; it was a dwarven woman. “Second Lieutenant Kegstone, ma'am, you’re the highest ranking officer here,” she said. “Most of the command was stationed at the first terminal before the attack, which was connected to the Master of Air...”
Oscar turned to see Sheffield standing stiffly at the edge of the tunnel. Though the woman was doing wonders at keeping a hard look, he could read in the human’s eyes that she was deeply concerned. He had seen the Master of Air detonate when it was impacted, and nearly everything around it had been vaporized in the blast. Anyone who has been in the first terminal is most likely sub-atomic particles or buried beneath heaps of rubble.
“Right.” Sheffield recovered and nodded. “Are there any casters down here? Preferably divine in case we need healing.”
Everyone shook their heads; a man towards the end, though, shouted up the tunnel. “I might be able to help.” Everyone shuffled and looked to see a priestly man straightening up. “I am Father Achland, a preacher of Slyondra. I served aboard the Master of Air with the crew; much of my supplies are gone, for obvious reasons, but I do have a small handful of scrolls and medical supplies on me in case of an emergency.”
Sheffield smiled. “Excellent, Father, well consider now to be a prime emergency.” The priest nodded. “Is anyone hurt now?” She asked everyone.
Oscar was going to open his mouth to mention his niece but stopped when he felt a small hand grabbing his arm. Turning, he gasped and smiled when he noticed Anne looking up at him, confused.
“Uncle?” She muttered in Maurich. “Wh-what’s happening?”
In Yanky, Oscar responded. “We’re safe now. Right now we’re underground in a tunnel; no Rustys can get us down here.”
Anne smiled a bit with relief and nodded slowly. Then she stopped, blinked, and said in yanky, “What about Luna? Is she okay?”
Oscar froze for a second. How was he supposed to know if Luna was safe or not? What is he supposed to say? Should he lie? No, that’d be stupid. Taking a deep breath, Oscar shrugged. “I don’t know, little one. Right now, I’m focusing on our safety.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the damaged caster. “I do have this, though; we can use it to contact her.”
“Call her,” Anne said. “I need to know.” She tried to push herself up, but Oscar held a hand out.
“Not right now,” he said. “We don’t know what’s happening outside, and right now I don’t want to distract her.”
Anne opened her mouth to protest but stopped. She was a smart girl for her age. “It’s not fair.” She huffed, and Oscar blinked.
“What’s not fair?” He asked.
“Everything.” She pouted. The girl was smart, but she was still a child. “Momma and Papa always had me learning and reading; I never got to go out and play. I never got any friends, a-and, now I have a friend, but...” she sniffed. “She might be in trouble! I-It’s like the world doesn’t want me to have friends!” Anne’s eyes began to tear up, and Oscar took a deep breath.
He hated it when she cried, not because it annoyed him but because it broke his heart. “I know, Anne,” he said. “The universe hates me too.” He reached out and gripped her shoulder. “But the universe can suck it,” he said with a wink. “The best we can do right now is work with what we have. Luna is a strong girl, smart too—very smart—and she even has magic. You’ve met her family; they’re those people from your books, right?” He smirked as Anne said nothing but nodded. “Then you know they can handle anything,” he said, his smirk turning into a smile.
This seemed to ease Anne’s worries, as she smiled as well and nodded with a bit more energy. “Yeah. You’re right.” She said she was coming back to her old self.
“I need a situation report asap!” Sheffield shouted to the soldiers in the tunnel. “Anyone who knows even the slightest of what the hell is happening, I need you up here.”
Anne winced. “That lady is loud,” she whispered to Oscar.
Oscar chuckled. “She needs to be,” he said. “She keeps everyone listening to her. Don’t worry, she’s on our side.” He patted Anne on the head as a small handful of soldiers pushed their way through the crowd to meet up with the woman, clearing enough room through the tunnel that Oscar found the little spot he and Anne were at to be spacious enough for him to take a seat beside her.
As he sat down in the dark, he noticed someone shifting up beside him and plopping on the ground next to him with a hefty groan. “By the gods, I swear the universe has it out for me.” The mystery man said it in yanky.
Jokingly, Oscar responded, "Oh, you too?” He turned to see the man. He was a large, plump human in a formally fine suit, now scuffed and dirty. He had receding blonde hair with a nice bushy mustache and bulbous nose, which his delicate circle-rimmed glasses perched upon. His eyes were small yet pleasant, with a nice shade of blue, which he noticed when the soldier’s torches shone their way.
The large-bellied man chortled and turned to Oscar. “Aye, I guess so. I apologize if I came off as insensitive.” The man held a thick hand out to Oscar, and the elf’s eyes widened. The man’s hand was large enough to palm his entire face.
Oscar took the man’s hand, and to his surprise, his grip was firm yet also gentle. “Not at all; the universe and I go way back. So I understand the feeling.”
“I bet,” the man said, and Oscar noted the man’s voice held a southwestern drawl.
What’s someone from the Wylde doing out here? He had thought to himself.
The big man continued. “Assuming you’re much older than me, you must have quite the experience with the universe.” He snickered and then ran his other hand through his sweaty, receding hair. “The name is Terry. Terry Rosewall.”
Oscar’s eyes widened. “Terry... The Terry?”
“Ayuh,” Terry nodded with a broad smile. “One and only.”
Oscar stuttered a little before remembering he should introduce himself. “I-I’m Oscar. Oscar Reynolds. I-If you don’t mind me asking, Sir--”
“Please, call me Terry.” The human chuckled.
Oscar cleared his throat. “Sorry, if you don’t mind me asking, Terry. What brings you here?” He was stunned that such a man would even attempt to come to a war-torn country. Terry Rosewall, the owner of Automaton Wonders, is one of, if not the wealthiest, people in the world. Renowned in the artificer community as the one pushing forward industry in what the community referred to as the “Great Leap.” This man had single-handedly revolutionized Yankston’s industrial sector with his crazy inventions and money.
"Oh, just sightseeing,” Terry said, and Oscar stared at him, stunned. “I’ve always wondered what war does to a--I jest, I jest!” The man laughed when he saw Oscar’s expression. “Humor helps keep me sane under stress,” he said, waggling a finger around them as he gestured towards their predicament. “I came here for business reasons.”
Oscar tilted his head. “Business?” He asked, and the man nodded.
“Yep. Earlier last year, I began branching out some of my companies and happened to land some opportunities here.” He said it joyfully. “A splendid opportunity to help expand Heinmarr’s industries and grant thousands of new opportunities.”
“And how’s that going now?” Oscar asked slowly, and the large man deflated.
“Not too good now. Many of my workers are now stranded, and many of them are abandoning my projects.” He sighed.
“So that’s why you came here? To what... stop them?” He asked.
Terry shook his head. “Not at all! Or well... partially.” He admitted. “I came to finish my latest work and offer those here a ticket out of here.”
“A ticket out of here?” Terry smiled and nodded.
“Exactly. I have a way to get every one of my people out. I had just gotten off my airship when everything went to hell.” He sighed.
Oscar nodded slowly and slumped back against the wall as he rested a hand on Anne’s lap. “Ah, well, that’s unfortunate.” He said this as Terry perked up.
“It is, but it’s not over yet. There’s still a chance my project will finish, and everything will be alright.” He hummed.
Oscar perked an eyebrow. “What makes you think that? This city is being pounded into rubble right now.” He was confused at how such a jolly man could be, well, jolly during a crisis like this.
“That’s because I haven’t explained the full picture yet. A simple set back--”
“Simple?” Oscar frowned.
“A tragedy, yes, but in the grand scheme of things, this...” He gestured to the ceiling. “It's only a setback for what my people are doing outside.” he hummed.
“And what’s that?” He asked curiously.
“Saving the city.” He said it with a twinkle in his eye.