An old man stood alone on a balcony, staring at the dark, heavy sky. A flock of birds flew past in their usual patterns, moving southwards. He puffed out a cloud of smoke off of his mouth, his eyes were somber in deep pleasure-filled pink.
Lowering his gaze away from the sky and back into the horizon, where a great and large emerald green plain stretched as far as he could see, and to his left were numerous settlements, many of which had rising smoke plumes rising from the earth.
The man felt a somber feeling beating silently in his heart when he saw the plumes. Many memories flashed through his eyes which were grim and fiery. But it was all in the past now, and he’d already accepted the fact that they would never return.
“Competition… war… hmph, very much the state of these damn fools…” His cranky old voice lamented, “And it seems that my boys are doing much the same, I guess it must only be part of nature. That we are aggressive by heart…”
C-creak!
The man quickly turned his head back towards the entrance of the room. A maid, whose eyes and body looked exhausted and tainted, came inside. She came along with a cart, filled with things for cleaning items, and a bunch of new sheets. Going along with her own business, and started unfolding the sheets.
“Excuse me, las—”
The maid gasped.
“O-oh… I am so, so sorry.” She stuttered. “I didn’t know that there was someone inside. There was no sign when I checked, so I assumed there was no one… there.”
“Don’t you know it’s rude to enter someone’s room without permission? I remember there being a 'do not disturb' sign put on the door handle.”
“R-right, I apologize si—”
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” He replied, coughing a bit. “No need to apologize and weep there, I’m just admiring the view from this balcony. It’s something some old man like me would like to enjoy, like your… never mind.”
The maid, her face clearly confused, nodded in a look, confused approval. The old man glanced away from her and back to the sky. But now, instead of the bird patterns he saw earlier, a formation of zeppelins now patrolled the skies and loomed over the inn with a dark shadow.
The old man scowled at the zeppelins, feeling sour, and quickly turned his gaze away from the sky. He pulled out a curious-looking watch, made out of a shiny silver and looked at the hands of the clock.
“Say, lass.” The old man said. “Would you mind taking care of the room a bit more, I must leave for the Mausoleum now.” He began slowly walking away from the balcony and back into his room.
“Eh? The Mausoleum?” The maid gasped. “What would someone like you be doing over there? Every time I pass by there, weird men and women come in some shady outfits.”
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“That’s a secret, lass. Now then, fare thee well, and don’t forget to feed Orson and Pliny, their food should be near the bed. Tata~”
“W-what? Who th—”
Before she could even get an answer, the old man had scurried off, nowhere to be seen in the hallways. Oh, how she wondered why that man was so skitty. Men were so… strange. But who's Orson and Pliny, she’d think. A bunch cackling and cawing then began to surface, and strangely it came from where the old man stood. The balcony.
…
Meanwhile, in an undisclosed location, men and women stood around in intricate circle patterns. A terrible smell was circulating around the room, and already some had collapsed or left the room in a haste. Not to mention the poor air circulation, which was like a day in the Precipa.
They were chanting some weird things in an unknown language, constantly with any mistake. Their hands were raised up high in the air, towards the middle of the room. There was a mass of crystals, which look like emeralds.
“Must I keep going, Amy?” A robed figure shouted, “This whole kerfuffle is just a waste of my damn time. Are you sure Mr. Faraday is right on his head because I know he’s just an old man with a tweed fucking mind! Those damn royals are watching us as if we’re just lowly livestock!”
“Wellers!” Amy snapped. “Keep the banter down to a minimum volume, do you want to be lynched? They’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, so keep your voice down… It’s a pretty hectic environment over here, and it would’ve been solved if the Redlin—.”
“Amy!” Wellers snapped back, “For fuck sakes, don’t bring THEM into the conversation. You know what they’ve been doing, they’re… damn it, just forget about it.”
Amy grinned maliciously at Wellers.
"I know what you wanted to spit out, but I'm going to ignore that. Just go one your day before the royals get here, they might as well already be here so let’s just move on… shall we?”
...
A young man, who wore a dull khaki overcoat with two pockets, bolted across the halls. He held his rifle tightly on his left hand and on his right, held a paper document. He was quite the runner, never losing his breath until the moment he will have stopped by the offices of his superiors.
He ran through the hallway of the second floor, eerily silent but strangely... quite cozy. The young man turned his head towards a window that was nearby. He saw a large, 'cozy', mahogany coffin resting in peace. But unlike that coffin, he was riddled in a sense of chaotic urgency. He glanced away from the window and kept on running.
‘Office one.. Office two… office three…’ He counted. ‘Where is his office… A-ah there it is. Office 6.’
Stopping at the, he first fixed himself nice and snap, dusting off some flakes off of his shoulder and wiped some of the sweat that was on his oily, olive skin. He stepped towards the door, and striked it three gentle times.
A big, burly man with the face of a walrus opened the big door. He was a bit confused as to why this… young man was here, sweaty and anxious. The young man raised his gaze to meet eye contact.
“S-sir Huggins, good to see you. I’ve got the most important message from Cappena!”
“Most important?” Huggins asked, dumbfounded. “If it were the most important kind of message, then it would’ve been given to my Code transcriptor. Although, I haven’t got a single message from anyone lately.”
“S-sir, that’s the thing. The code’s been cut by the enemy forces, however they’ve managed to save some of the transcripts in document form. Here’s the document, sire.”
The burly man then snatched the document and grumbled. He squinted a bit forwards to see the small text, and scratched his head. Suddenly... his face began looking a bit more sweaty. He placed the document back into his desk, and quickly wiped his face with a black handkerchief.
"Tell the guards to be ready to protect the family at all times, lad. Go on!" He ordered sternly.