Morning came and found William little rested. Despite having spent as much of the night awake as he could, sleep had come and taken him before he realized, and by the time he had awoken his body had not yet fully rested. He stared up at the hazy ceiling for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the morning desert sun. With a sigh he went to push himself up and winced forgetting for a moment that his skin still hurt from exposure of the day prior. He rubbed his eyes and looked to the side of the bed in which he had slept. His sword was still there leaning against it. He relaxed a little bit.
Stepping outside of the shade of the guest room, William looked down the hall towards the stairs and found it empty. He turned his head towards the window he had peered out of the night before and stepped towards it to do so again. Looking down that poster was still there – “For the Good of Us All” – and looking up and over the roof of the building next to Joscur’s home he peered out into Mirage. Already the sounds of a busy city were echoing softly like the sounds heard in a cave distant and unclear. He looked out towards all that he could see with lips held tight in a thin line. He still didn’t know what was wrong with this city…
Downstairs Joscur, Marisia and Vamenco were sitting and having breakfast. William could see them dining on a flat mostly white bread, each of them with their own small bowls of a creamy white sauce that they were dipping ripped pieces of their meal into. Each of them was wearing a simple if colorful ensemble of clothing different from what they had been wearing the night before. Joscur, especially, was in comparatively ordinary dress from what the Waste wanderer had first seen the day before. Marisia turned her head slightly at the sound of him descending the stairs. Joscur was next to notice his approach.
“Ah, William. Come, have some breakfast,” Joscur invited, quick to reach out and place a hand on his young sons’ shoulder who, upon seeing William, rose to meet him in excitement! The gesture was enough to let the young boy know to stay in his seat.
The black haired stranger made his way down the rest of the steps, sword in hand but gripped gently by the blade, showing no intention of using it, making his way to the same table he had eaten at the night before and taking a seat. Joscur grabbed a few pieces of the dirt-colored, speckled bread and passed them to William before asking his son to get a bowl of the white condiment for their guest. “Have you had this before?” he asked his pink skinned guest. William shook his head.
“This is called manoushe, a type of light and airy bread made from grass grown on the mainland. It is very popular here in Mirage,” he said cheerfully as he ripped off a small piece of his own and chucked it into his mouth. Vamenco came back from the adjacent kitchen area with a small bowl messily filled with the same companion food as was in the rest of his family’s bowls and pushed it excitedly into William’s face.
“Here!” he exclaimed. William smiled and took the small bow, looking into the thick dollop that had been carelessly thrown into the container. Vamenco ran around the table and took his seat once William had received the treat, happy to have been of help.
“This is toum, a paste we make right here in Mirage. Very tasty! A perfectly companion to manoushe, go on! Try!” Joscur encouraged, demonstrating by tearing off another piece of bread and swiping it into his saucer-sized bowl to coat one side before popping it into his mouth.
William did as he was shown and with no hesitation at that looking down at the table while he chewed and swallowed. The manoushe was just as light as it looked and easy to chew while the toum had a distinct but not overwhelming combination of garlic and citrus that complimented the naturally warm flavor of the bread quite nicely. “It’s good,” he agreed flatly. Joscur and Vamenco both smiled. Marisia had kept quiet up until that point but, ever inquisitive, that couldn’t be for long.
“Why is it you carry a sword with you?”
“Marisia!” her father scolded sharply, the smile gone from his face as he looked at his daughter. She did not flinch and remained facing William. William did not give an answer save for ripping off another piece of bread. “Save your questions for later, please. He has much to do today and can explain to us in time all there is he feels we need to know about him.”
“Yes, baba,” Marisia said with a sigh, her head dipping down as she broke off another piece of her breakfast. The tension released from the air and for a moment all was quiet around the table.
“You are to travel with me today, William,” Joscur spoke up after a moment. “The council has questions for you and I am to deliver you unto them. They may have reached a conclusion on where it is you will be staying so long as you are within Mirage, although I doubt it after only a single night, but most likely they will try and give you a vocation so that you may contribute and earn your keep. Life is hard here in the Wastes, and everyone who is registered to the city must contribute in some form or another. Thus I expect you will be put to work in some fashion.”
“Is your son registered?” William asked without looking at his host.
“Not yet. Children do not register until they are ten,” Vamenco spoke up, eyes bright and voice shining with the pride of knowing something. “One day I wish to be a city guard like baba!”
“And what does being a city guard mean?” William asked curiously, his eyes darting up from his morning meal.
“Mostly it means patrolling the city and breaking up drunken brawls,” Joscur replied candidly. “The duties of a city guard are often monotonous and dull but are plentiful. Besides patrolling the streets, we are tasked occasionally with heading outside of the city in the event of… unusual happenings. A pack of reausler growing close to the city perimeter, for example, or Reavers for that matter. Or our surveillance catching a glimpse of a boy lost in the desert sands.”
‘Interesting,’ William thought to himself. It became apparent after this statement that Joscur’s children did not know everything that their father did. He had pegged him to be a more open and honest man than that. He imagined that a story of a strange boy falling from the sky would do nothing but enamor young Vamenco with curiosity, yet he had chosen not to tell them. That was different.
“Thankfully it is mostly a quiet job, but someone has to do it. In Mirage there is work for everyone, and everyone plays a part. Today you will most likely find out what yours is, and after I have delivered you to Natator Tower I will go about my duties, just as Marisia shall go about hers,” the father said, thrusting a piece of bread towards his daughter.
“What is it you do?” William asked her.
“I sort the discarded clothes in Scarlet Boulevard by shades of red,” she replied cheekily, earning a hearty chuckle from her father who appreciated his daughter’s sense of humor. She smiled at her own wit and corrected herself. “I help out in the markets. My friend, Kara, helps with my blindness when needed but otherwise I am just another pair of hands in the throng on most days. It is easy enough work to hand goods over and take currency,” she said with the slightest lacing of bitterness in her voice.
“And who watches Vamenco during the day while you two are gone?” William inquired.
“A caretaker comes and watches him during the day when no one else is home,” Joscur answered, receiving a shove from his son who had been on the verge of telling their guest that himself. He chuckled at the antics of his young son, reaching out and ruffling his vibrant hair. “It is the job of many to watch after the young while their parents and family are out doing their duty to the city. Here it takes a city to raise a family. Now, come, finish your meal and we will be off.”
Once they had finished their food, Joscur and William departed, leaving their dishes to be picked up by his children. Joscur made sure to give both of his children hugs and kisses upon their heads before leaving with William in tow who brought with him his sword. The day was still early and the streets were mostly empty in this part of Mirage for the time being.
“We should really get you a sheath for that sword,” Joscur said, looking back at William behind him who was purposefully staying a few steps back and looking all about him as though searching for something. “If you would be willing to leave it with a blacksmith it could-”
“It stays with me,” William cut Joscur off curtly, his tone sharp. Joscur was silent and nodded his head, turning back around as he lead him through the city streets.
“For now. You will have to have a cover for it soon, though. City law dictates that there are to be no uncovered weapons for anyone that is not part of the city guard,” Joscur explained. “I can see that you are unwilling to be apart from your blade for whatever reason, so at some point you will need to see a smith and let them fit it with a sheath while you watch I suppose. We do not have that sort of time now, though.”
William gave no response to his but merely gripped his sword tighter.
The two of them passed by in the shade of buildings in the early morning sun walking on stained glass streets. Joscus smiled at those they passed, giving greetings to whom he deemed needed them, pausing every so often to hold the hand of someone before explaining that he had to move on. William didn’t understand the words that he used but anyone could see the intention behind them as well as his actions. This was a man who loved and cared for the citizenry of this oasis in the Wastes and would have happily spent the day with any one of them if given the chance. William had to wonder how leisurely his position as city guard was that he could afford to hold such a carefree attitude.
The further towards the center of Mirage that they went the taller the buildings became. William took note of how the city was shaped like an upside down bowl and wondered if it had been designed that way on purpose or if it had incidentally grown in this shape over time. Were the taller buildings closer to Natator Tower intrinsically more important somehow? Businesses or higher standard living quarters? The layout of a city could tell you much about the priorities of those who ran it, William believed, and so took special note of the steadily growing architecture around them and kept his eyes open in ways that his ignorant ears were unable to.
In time the pair of them made their way to Natator Tower with more and more of the flying animunculi passing over their heads as they drew near. When they arrived at the steps of the tower Joscur stopped and allowed William to pass him by. “I must leave you here for now. I have other duties to attend to around the city,” he explained, giving the dark haired stranger pause to look back at his host. Joscur smiled warmly, saying, “Word will be sent to me as to what the council’s decision is regarding your stay in Mirage. You will know before I do and we will go from there.”
William nodded, turning to look up at the tower. A small group of people were walking towards him to escort him up the tower.
“Soft winds to you, William,” Joscur said before turning and walking back down the steps towards the street.
“Soft winds,” William replied quietly and strode up to meet his guides, five in total. With them he did briefly quarrel as he had with Joscur about the state of his sword but they, like he, were quick to let the matter go after it was pointed out that the day before he had been taken to the council and allowed to keep it and once again he was informed that at some point soon it would need a sheath. Together they walked up and into the tower, and as they did so, William was given a crash course on manners.
“Natator tower is a library as well as a place of judicial process. As you know, the council resides at the top but all levels below it are accessible to the public. As such we ask that you keep your voice down while within the tower and observe proper protocol and procedure,” explained one of the young men as they made their way into the shade of the building. The lecture continued as they approached the elevating devices that William and Joscur had used to climb the tower the day before.
“You are being taken to see the council again this morning, and there is ritual that we observe. It is an honor to see the Seven and we ask that you treat it as such. Normally there are no weapons allowed within the council chambers, and when yours receives a covering, any future visits will require you to relinquish your weapon temporarily. This is non negotiable I’m afraid. We have been informed of your… attachment, and the Seven have decreed you will be allowed to keep it for this visit. When you come to the door, knock and wait to be received with your head bowed. Wait until you are given permission to enter before doing so, then bow before the Seven before the meeting begins.”
The small group began to rise up and there was still more to be explained. William listened silently and looked around at the rows and shelves of books as they rose past them, at the doors and corridors leading into deeper parts of the tower.
“After your meeting we will be informed of what the council has judged for you and act accordingly. As we do not know what that is in the meantime we ask that you refrain from exploration of the tower and instead await your retinue to guide you to where it is you need to be. Mirage as a city functions because everyone within has something to do to help maintain the stability of the city as a whole. So long as you will be sheltered within, you will need to be assigned a duty of your own, and we will make sure that you are adequately informed and prepared for whatever it is the Seven decides. Do you have any questions?”
“The workers in the council chamber, the ones in the suits, who are they?” William asked, his head craned towards the approaching ceiling.
“They are animunculi technicians, in charge of the care, repair and interaction with the animunculi of Mirage both within and without. They are the city’s eyes and ears, keeping vigil and reporting to the council as necessary with matters of concern… such as yourself.”
“Do the council convene in the chamber every day?”
“No,” came a reply growing with concern. “They each of them have other duties that they attend to around Mirage but meet as a council in matters of importance.”
“Like me,” William replied dryly. “What exactly do these technicians keep an eye open for?”
“Threats to the safety and security of the city. There are other technicians who work at different parts within the tower as well as around Mirage, but we must remain watchful. Roaming reavers are a constant threat that needs to be monitored and reauslers would be disastrous if they managed to breach the city barrier! It is thanks to the animunculi that protect this city that we are able to live peaceful lives, so many of our citizenry dedicate theirs to helping them maintain this peace.”
William didn’t ask any more questions after that.
As they approached the top of the tower the lift came to a halt and the small group exited the elevator with William in tow. They lead him to the council chamber’s doors where one of the guides stepped forward and knocked on the door, took a step back, and joined the others in having their heads bowed. William did not bow his head. He stared at the words on the door and contemplated their meaning once more.
The door opened mere seconds after the knocking and a technician stood looking out at them for a moment before taking a step to the side. As they stepped out of the way the sunburned stranger stepped forward and past the group as they were lifting up their heads. Seeing this brazen act of defiance caused a couple of them to gasp while others surged forward after him. He quickened his pace and stepped into the chamber where the Seven were already sat, turned towards each other and speaking in hushed tones that came to an abrupt end as William stepped forward and stood in the same spot he had the day before, sword in hand, while the guiding entourage came rushing in after him, offering apologies, bowing their heads, and speaking over one another. Worried for the safety of the council, one of them grabbed at William’s wrist that held his sword which caused him to snap his face to look at them with a menacing glare!
“That will be quite enough of that!” boomed the Eldest, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
“Forgive us, councilman Ode! We explained to him the procedure! We-”
“Leave us, please,” Ode requested quietly but firmly. The group of guides bowed their heads and backed out of the room. The technician who answered the door closed it behind them and stepped back to their console so that they can continue to work.
“Quite the entrance you’ve made on your second day in our city,” Ode sternly spoke, looking William down his nose.
“I’m not one to abide idle ritual that ultimately serves no purpose,” William responded, but even before the words had completely left his mouth a venomous voice spoke up.
“You see! If he cannot even obey simple instructions, how safe are we to be-” Mernavia started but was cut off by one of the councilman to her left.
“You will not start up on this again!” he said, making Mernavia whip her head around and grit her teeth at him in anger.
“And you will not antagonize her!” Ode raised his voice again, the old man slinking back into his tall seat and letting out a heavy sigh, raising a hand up to rub over his eyes. “It is just a silly ritual of respect that our citizenry observe towards us. No need to make a fuss. We have more important matters to attend to, everyone let it go,” the wizened councilman ordered and the Seven fell silent and still. William mirrored their stillness and stared at each of them. The morning sun bathed the room in much more of an inviting light than it had the afternoon before and he was able to see each of them clearly. Ode looked tired in that way old men who did not get quite enough sleep did. Mernavia sat at attention, lips drawn into a tight line and eyebrows furrowed in intense speculation. Every one of them was wearing the same colored robes that they had the day before.
The eldest councilman brought his hand down from his eyes and clapped his hands together. “Let us try this again, and start by introducing ourselves, why not?” he suggested, looking from one side of seats to the other. “Boma, start with yourself and we will move down the line.”
From the furthest left of Ode, Boma scooted forward with his hands in his lap, the young boy from the day before. He sat up straight, looked William directly, and spoke clearly. “Pleasant moons. My name is Boma, and I am the youngest council member, representing the children of Mirage.”
To his left, sat with her arms crossed over her stomach, one leg crossed over the other in her vermilion robe, Mernavia glared down at William. “You may address me as councilwoman Mernavia,” she said curtly, mistrust as plain to see on her features as it was to hear in her voice.
To her left, dressed in his sky blue robe and white sash, the young man with his freckles raised his hand up and placed it on his chest. “I am councilman Thrain. Allow me to extend my apologies on behalf of this council for the trouble this all must be fore you.”
“My name has been given as Ode already, but I’m an old man; I love repeating myself!” Ode joked with a chuckle. “I am Ode, eldest member of the council of Mirage, and shepherd of this city.”
To the left of Ode, the violet clad woman with her hands folded over top of each other would smile and nod her head towards William. “Councilwoman Kieran,” she introduced gently.
Beside her, the only council member to have not spoken directly the day before, of an age between Ode and Thrain, sat a very serious looking man with short, ginger hair. His robes were green and well fitting, and he had three rings adorned with colorful stones on his left hand little, ring and middle fingers, while his right sported two on his thumb and middle finger. “I am councilman Niamh,” he introduced himself, his voice deep and rumbling. “A pleasure to be introduced to the man who fell from the sky.”
“And you may call me Eira if you like, no need for titles,” said the last council member, the oldest woman there who was perhaps second only to Ode in age. She smiled, and her face reminded William of the first woman he’d met in this city who had offered to clothe and feed him. He wondered briefly how she was doing.
“There, now we are all introduced as Thrain suggested we had done the day before,” Ode spoke up, gesturing towards the young councilman. “And now, if I may speak for the whole council and finish our introduction with a word on what we do here,” Ode continued, not waiting for the go ahead from any of the others before doing so. “It is the council’s job to oversee the affairs of this city. Together, we govern policy and law and determine what courses of action are best for the safety and continued prosperity of Mirage. Which is where we find you at, William; a question of what to do about the boy who fell from the sky…”
William was silent, observing the workers around them. Their screens.
“We have introduced ourselves now, might we have the pleasure of receiving the same courtesy?” Eira asked warmly.
“William.”
“William,” Ode said, repeating the name slowly as if feeling its weight on his tongue. “William, who fell from the sky, who was not in the Wastes but then suddenly was. How peculiar a young man you are…”
William continued not to look at them. The monitors were showing views of the city, he thought. It was difficult to tell from how far away he was…
“William is not our only concern, nor the most immediate,” Mernavia spoke up, her tone more even and metered than it had been thus far. Her words drew the attention of the other council members. “Let us ask him where he is from and send him on his way! He says he is not from the Wastes? Fine! Let him return back from whence he came so that we can focus on our own problems.”
“Mernavia makes a fair point,” Niamh spoke up, looking to his fellow council members on his left and his right. “Our resources are difficult enough to come by without accepting strangers into our midst. Look at him; even without asking, it would be safe to assume that he is from the mainland. The civil war is calm for now, but it will not remain so forever. Any day now, one or both of the Princes will force the hand of the others, and what little we have will be diverted to the issue of succession inexorable.”
William looked away from the monitors and back to the council. He said nothing.
“We’ve received word that Second Prince Mordred is now Emperor Mordred. It is possible that this will be what forces Princes Ganymede and Bayamon into action. It is not so hard to imagine that our new Emperor will request that we increase our mining efforts-” Kieran was interrupted by Mernavia speaking up.
“All the more reason to send this boy away! Of what use could he be to Mirage with war on the horizon and the further taxation of our people an inevitability?”
“Where are you from, William?” Ode asked, keeping his keen green eyes upon the sun-burnt young man who now returned his gaze directly.
“The capital,” William responded.
“Is it not possible that William is some effort of one of the princes in their war? Some experiment with new machina that went awry?” Niamh asked, addressing the council but looking at William.
“I really couldn’t say,” William responded.
“If he is from the capital,” Boma spoke up, looking around at the adults around him. “Then… it would be difficult to send him back home, would it not? With the Princes fighting…”
“With the Princes fighting over the throne and the newly named Emperor granting himself the title, we could be shipping him into a volatile mainland, possibly to his death,” Thrain finished, seeing where Boma was going with his line of thought. “Mirage is in no position to accept refugees, nor are we in sending away any.”
“So, what do you suggest, Thrain?” Mernavia asked, looking up at the young man. “That we give him a place to stay here, wait for this ridiculous civil war to pass and hope that whatever he calls home is still standing? It is not the responsibility of this city to take care of misfits lost in the Wastes! Especially those who will not divulge how they got there!”
“You are being harsh, Mernavia,” Eira spoke up. “You saw the fall, same as the rest of us. Poor William may truly not remember how he came to be here.”
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“Oh, is it ‘poor William’ now?” Mernavia asked sarcastically.
“Mernavia,” Niamh spoke up gently. “Temper.”
“No, I am not losing my temper here!” she retorted like the crack of a whip, leaning forward in her chair and extending a hand towards William. “We have before us a boy who fell from the sky, who claims to come from the continental mainland, specifically Damocles, who has not specified how this happened, who is openly carrying a sword even now, with war at our doorstep! He could be an operative for any of the three Princes, who knows what their schemes will mean for Mirage in the days to come? We cannot afford to not be cautious when we are faced with the seemingly impossible!”
“Mernavia,” Ode spoke up, dropping her name like a weight in water. The two looked at each other, with her brow furrowed as though expecting to be scolded some more but softening as he continued. “I agree with you. We cannot be too cautious with this… William. Aside from his fall we know nothing about him, the only thing he had on him was the sword he now carries. He claims to be from Damocles, but could be from anywhere and we’d have no way of proving it one way or another.”
As Ode spoke, the other council members seemed to relax, turning their gazes back on the sun-burnt young man before them or looking to the Eldest as he spoke.
“Thrain, too, makes a valid point,” he continued, pointing to the young man to his left. “We are on an entirely different continent from the mainland, and we do not immediately know what is happening over there. For all we know, the countryside is on fire and we would be sending young William to cook!” He chuckled dryly at his dark joke. “We’ve established the issue of William enough, I think. I elect that this council now turns its attention to the man himself, and begins asking him questions. Eira, would you please begin?”
The old woman looked at William and paused momentarily, considering what to ask him. “Is there truly nothing you can remember about how you came to fall? Nothing you can tell us about the events preceding your unexpected arrival?”
“I was talking with my lover about what should be done with the coming conflict, and then I was falling. There’s nothing else I can recall.”
“And what of that sword you carry so close to you? We were told that it was practically impossible to take it from your grip, even while unconscious?” Niamh asked as Eira sat back in her seat.
“It’s a family heirloom, the oldest and most valuable thing that I own. It’s importance to me cannot be stressed enough. I was discussing fighting with it before I fell.”
“Could you tell us the name of this lover of yours?” Thrain inquired. “Perhaps we could send a message to Damocles, informing them of your arrival, and reunite you?”
William hesitated. “Is something wrong?” Thrain asked. Mernavia scrutinized William’s every bodily movement.
“… His name is Cornello,” William admitted. Thrain turned and looked to one of the technicians. “Can we please send a message to Damocles, asking abou-”
“You won’t be able to reach them in Damocles,” William interrupted.
“And why is that?” Mernavia was quick to pounce.
“I just… have a feeling you won’t be able to,” William answered quietly.
“Send the message,” Thrain said, turning his freckled face back towards the black haired stranger, now more incredulous than he had been a moment before. One of the technicians got to work contacting Damocles.
“If we chose to send you away, what would you do?” Kieran asked directly.
“I would try to find Cornello, and protect them from this civil war,” he answered with more confidence.
“And if we chose, instead, to keep you here, for your own safety and ours?” Boma asked slowly.
“I would try to make myself useful to Mirage, and await any word from Damocles about Cornello,” he replied softly.
Mernavia leaned forward in her seat, glowering at the uninvited guest in the council chamber. “Suppose we were to disarm you for the duration of your stay in Mirage, that on condition to being allowed shelter in our city, you would have to relinquish your sword…?”
“I would fight you with everything I had to keep it.”
Mernavia leaned back and turned to look at the other council members who looked to each other in kind. Kieran leaned over to whisper something to Ode and Niamh did so in kind to Eira. The vermilion clad councilwoman continued to stare down William with mistrust oozing from every pore. Thrain silently considered the young man before him. Boma sat quietly, listening, and thinking.
After a few tense moments, Ode sat up straight and asked his question: “How would you like to be a wellerman?”
“A wellerman?” William echoed, while Mernavia snapped her head to glare at Ode in disbelief!
“Just like the ones on the mainland, but slightly different. You wouldn’t be just transporting goods from the mainland to us and vice versa. Wellermen of the Wastes also hunt sand whales for their meat, their blubber, and the precious minerals they accumulate on their hides. Minerals which we harvest, process, and use for trade and engineering. It is a duty heavy in manual labor and would see you coming and going quite often. I propose that this be the task to which William is assigned so long as he is within our care,” Ode explained, turning his head back and forth to address his fellow council members. “While we await news of his lover in Damocles, he will work for Mirage. We will provide him lodgings for when he is not off in the Wastes, and as a wellerman, he’d put that sword to use, most likely, and he would be outside of the city limits more often than not.” Here, Ode looked specifically at Mernavia who turned away from him and sat with pursed lips. She couldn’t argue that this was an elegant solution.
“That is the conditions to which you will be allowed to stay within Mirage, until such time as your lover can be contacted… oh, and you will need a sheath for your blade I am afraid. We do not allow uncovered weaponry in the streets by law. All in favor?” Ode asked, raising his hand up. Mernavia was quick to follow suit, and the remaining five council members did the same. “The council is in favor. William, do you find these terms to be acceptable?”
“Yes,” William said flatly.
“Then let it be so!” Ode spoke something in Mirage-Tongue that the other council members repeated in unison and the high column chairs began to lower down so that each member could stand. “This morning’s council meeting is adjourned, then. William, you will be escorted from Natator Tower to a smithy that can make a sheath for your blade, then you will be returned to Joscur’s home for the day. Tomorrow, you will start your work as a wellerman and we will have found a suitable place for you to stay within Mirage while you are here, and while you wait for correspondence from your Cornello.”
By this point, many of the other council members were walking past William and headed for the door. They had duties they needed to attend to elsewhere, and though they spoke quietly among themselves, each of them gave at least one look to the young man that they’d just agreed to become a part of Mirage, if only temporarily. Boma lagged behind with Ode who was the slowest in moving forward and leaving. The door to the council chamber opened and the same people who had escorted him here were making their way towards William after being given the verdict. As Ode came close to the sword bearing young man, he spoke up.
“You are quite mysterious. Know that we will be investigating how it is you came to fall from the sky as well. In turbulent times such as these, we cannot afford not to.”
“Why are you monitoring the activity of Mirage with machina?” William asked, his gray eyes fixated on the old man, who paused with Boma at his side and stared back at William with an analytical gaze before continuing on.
“For the good of us all,” was the only answer that Ode gave.
***
William was taken from Natator Tower just as his escorts had been instructed. They lead him to one of the mid levels of the tower so that they could rent a natator, a larger model that could carry all of them. William quietly observed the process of “renting” these floating machina which boiled down to an agreement signed both on a piece of parchment, which had dates, times, and rental periods along with who had agreed to this contract, and an input in a terminal that was similar to the ones the technicians used at the top of the tower. They were airborne shortly thereafter and occupied one of the middle lanes of traffic through the air. From up high, William was able to get a much more expansive view of the city as well as the barrier which surrounded them.
The same barrier which had been opened by those hulking automatons, he would find out through questioning were animunculi, was practically invisible when closed and you were close to it on the inside, but from further away if you paid attention you could see it as a blurry blue shimmer that surrounded the entirety of Mirage like a dome. It was explained to him how the barrier helped to deflect the desert heat away from the city and made life bearable in the Wastes. He recalled out it had been completely invisible from outside of the city limits, how he had only seen further dunes of sand. He wondered why such a visual barrier was necessary in the first place and thought of the reausler creatures that he’d encountered in the Wastes. They had spoken to him and so were intelligent, at least enough to speak. Were they intelligent enough that they needed to be hidden from?
As they flew over rainbow colored roads, his escorts would occasionally point things out to him as they passed it by. Mostly it was broad, general statements about the layout of Mirage itself, how Natator Tower served as the city center with residential buildings clustering up around it, while further out were businesses. The circular city was thus ringed by communal commerce and, as he had seen the day before, cultural exchanges for anyone coming and going to and from Mirage. It was remarked that since the Wastes were so harsh and treacherous, the people of Mirage put on a good face and tried to be warm and welcoming to all who were allowed to seek haven there.
“Ah, look there! You can see the wellermen docks where you will be working,” one of the guides said, lifting their arm up and pointing to the west. William turned and could see through the gaps in buildings as they flew by what looked like large wooden ships. It was hard to make anything else out from this distance.
As they arrived at their destination the natator lowered itself down to the ground and came to rest outside of a smithy, the open air furnace surrounded by a small crew of workers who were all in tandem working on a project together. Two of them were hauling materials over to the fire. One was hammering away at a hot piece of metal and sending sparks flying while another flipped the piece of metal every other swing. Yet another was sat at a bench chiseling away details into a piece of metal. It was to this individual that the guide stepped forward, speaking in Mirage-Tongue and explaining the situation. When all was in order, William was called over and the craftsman looked down at the blade in his hand.
The man held his gloved hand out to William. “May I?” he asked. Tight lipped, William hesitated in handing the sword over, but did so if reluctantly. The smith held the sword up and inspected it visually, giving it a couple of test swings downwards, finding where the balance was in the sword. “Peculiar feature, this arc,” he commented, running his finger over the deep curve near the base of the blade. “I would have called it a mistake if it was not so clearly intentional… to make a proper sheath for this should take me a day.”
“No,” William said sternly.
“Please! Do not be rude!” the guide said, looking flustered at William’s response. The smith looked at him as though studying him. “You do not care about the quality of the sheath?”
“No,” William responded, softer.
The smith wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm and turned around, pushing what he had been working on aside and setting the sword down on the table in front of him. “Then, I will need an hour to make a simple leather covering for it. I can be no quicker I am afraid.”
“I’ll wait an hour,” William agreed, stepping over to the end of the table and looking down at the sword. The smith nodded, turned, and called for some leather in Mirage-Tongue. True to his word, and with some assistance from the occasional other worker who could put down what they were doing to fetch him something, the sheath was made in roughly an hour – merely a crude leather sleeve which was fitted to the dimensions of the blade, with some excess for both wiggle room and additional material to sew the leather together with a bland colored thread, all done by hand – and was given to William with his sword, who was stood watching the construction of the sheath the entire time. It looked, and was, crude, but it would suffice for now.
“I recommend getting that replaced as soon as you have some gems to spend. It will not hold for more than six months if you actively carry it, less if you are careless,” advised the smithy.
“Perhaps I’ll pay you another visit soon, then. Pleasant moons to you,” William said after taking a hold of his blade once more.
“Pleasant moons,” the smithy replied, smiling cheerfully before pulling what he’d been working on the hour before back over towards him and beginning to work again. Now that his sword was covered, the guides who were now tasked with escorting William to Joscur’s abode seemed far more relaxed than they had the entire day so far.
Navigating with the natators, William discovered, was somewhat intuitive. There were no wheels or control panels on which to operate these flying metallic boats with green obs underneath which kept them aloft. Instead, movement was physically up to the operators, who, he observed from not just his navigators but also those people around them up in the air, would lean to shift their body weight in order to gently coax the machina one direction or another. If there were multiple people on board, they would help by shifting their body weight as well. He also observed that people used hand signals in order to let others know if they were moving left, right, up, or down by extending or bending their arms in which direction they were headed in. Larger natators, like the ones they were on, were slower and took turns sluggishly, while smaller, personal natators were much faster and generally flew above them on the highest levels of traverse where people went the fastest. He wasn’t entirely certain how acceleration and deceleration happened, but he believed it had something to do with shifting your weight forward to speed up and standing upon the natator to slow it down.
These observations were all made as they made their way to Joscur’s home where, upon arrival, they all stood up, with William standing last, three of the five escorts signaling that they were descending down to street level and bringing the machina to a hovering stop just over a single step off of the ground. “Please remain inside until Joscur returns from his duties. We would hate for you to get lost!” one of the guides said with a pleasant smile that was mirrored by the others. William said nothing as he disembarked off of the floating machina.
“Soft winds to you, William!” the same guide said before taking a seat with the others and rising back up into the air, signaling to traffic that they were rising. William watched them go before turning and walking towards the door. Stepping inside, he was greeting with the faint smells of the breakfast that they had shared and the sound of delighted squealing coming from Vamenco, who was running around the communal area where they had eaten only a few hours before with a young man who was dressed in a bright green, loose fitting pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt. He stopped running and stood up straight when William entered, concern filling his face.
“Who are you?” the young man asked, and by then Vamenco had noticed he wasn’t being chase anymore and stopped, looking back and seeing William.
“William!” he cried out excitedly, running over to the house guest and grabbing onto his hand to pull him inside, even as the young man who was watching the child initially took a step forward and reached out to stop him. “This is William, my baba found him in the Wastes and brought him here to live with us!”
“I’m not living with you, I’m only staying here temporarily,” William corrected, smiling despite himself as he was pulled towards the pit of pillows by Vamenco, who stopped and looked up at him like he’d said something hurtful.
“You are not staying?” he asked, confused.
“No, I can’t. The council said that I’ll be staying somewhere else come tomorrow.”
Vamenco let go of William’s hand, looking very dejected as he looked up at him. “Are you still going to visit us?”
“Sure, I can do that,” William said, his promise earning him a smile from the young boy who cheered and got back to running around. The young man, who looked to be about Marisia’s age and had short, cleanly cut hair, introduced himself; “I am Bolara. Pleasant moons to you, Vamenco was telling me about you earlier.”
“About how you were lost in the desert and my baba came to save you!” the young boy clarified excitedly, rushing over and jumping onto a set of pillows, landing on his knees and looking up at the guest of his father’s house. “William, can you tell me more about what you were doing out in the Wastes? I want to know because it seems very scary outside of Mirage!”
“If it is not too much trouble,” Bolara said, recognizing Vamenco’s lack of tact and offering an out on his behalf.
“I’ll tell you all about it in a little bit, little one. I think I want to take a short walk before then,” William said, turning to Bolara. “Could you prepare me something to drink for when I get back? I won’t be gone long.”
“Ah! Perhaps we could come with you so that you do not get lost? Vamenco told me how you have only been in the city a day,” the young caretaker said, stepping after William as he turned to head back for the door. Vamenco, of course, was excited by the prospect, but the dark haired stranger turned and shook his head at the two of them. “That’s alright, I won’t go far. I just want to get familiar with the surroundings so that I can find this house when I’m in my own place. Bolara, the drink, please?”
“Yes, of course. We will see you soon,” Bolara said, speaking over Vamenco’s groans as he got up from his pillows and tried to rush forward after William as he stepped back outside, voicing his protest but being stopped by his caretaker who spoke to him in Mirage-Tongue while William began to walk down the street, heading for the poster that he’d seen the night before. It was affixed to the building beside Joscur’s home and, stepping into the alleyway, he examined the poster closer and identified the figure on it as being one of the machnia technicians in Natator Tower. He found himself wondering why they would be featured on a poster, and if he were to look around, would he find others like this one?
A sensation washed over William’s body like cold water being dosed over him. He stood up straight and felt a ringing in his ears, making him realize that the world had suddenly gone silent! He whipped his head around and stepped back out of the alley and saw the truth of the silence – it was no silence at all, but instead a great muffling of the world around him!
All around William, people were slowed down to less than a snail’s pace. He would have thought that there was no movement at all if he did not stare intently to be sure. No matter where he looked, down the left and right of the glass street, high above him where the natators flew, all had come to a near standstill! Across the street, a man sat playing an instrument that had two sets of free-floating strings attached to a large, hollow, drum base and a long wooden neck that had several animal skin braids that held the strings in place. William watched as the man’s finger plucked a string and the sound did travel, but it was so distorted and reverberated that it sounded nothing like the high tones he had been hearing earlier, instead sounding more like some threatening, guttural growl.
Two taps against colored glass – so startling like cracks of thunder – drew William’s attention back in the alley where his eyes befell a man dressed all in white, in a style that did not belong in this place. His dark brown skin created a contrast between the perfectly pristine white tuxedo he wore over a paper white vest and milk colored tie. He was tall, almost two feet taller than William was, and his snow white wingtip shoes strutted out on either side of the black cane he held in his hand. There was a gentle smile on his face that was matched only by the ferocity of William’s frown.
“Pardon my interruption of your walk, but it was time that we spoke I’m afraid,” the Dandy Man said.
William responded by withdrawing his sword from its newly made sheath and throwing the leather away behind him, brandishing his blade with both hands! “Where is Mr. Wink!?” William demanded to know, snarling.
“Far, and already here, you know that,” said the Dandy Man, tapping his cane on the glass again and tossing it up in the air before catching it and walking towards William slowly, calmly, despite the sword trained on him.
“I mean his eidolon! Where is he!?” William demanded, taking a step forward and planting his foot down, hunching over and preparing to launch himself at the man responsible for slowing down time around them.
The Dandy Man stopped and tucked his cane up under his arm, merely a step away from the tip of William’s sword. “Not here, but you know that already. He has very important work to attend to, as do you. This conversation is not about Mr. Wink.”
“Take me back! I’m not supposed to be here!” William snarled, keeping his sword trained on the Dandy Man as he walked out of the shadow of the alley and into the sun, the bright light glistening off of his bald head.
“I can’t! Even a host as resplendent as I has my limits, you know! You would need Mr. Wink’s services for that, and as we’ve already established, he is not here! I’m afraid you’re stuck with little ol’ dandy me!” The laughter was at once mocking and good humored, meaning no offense but delivering plenty.
“I was in the middle of something important! Something that could have turned this whole thing around if I’d been left alone!” William roared!
“Mr. Wink looked ahead and determined that it would not, and so chose to follow his own agenda instead. Is that really so surprising?” the Dandy Man asked, looking over at William as he pulled out a pocket watch from within his jacket. He spared two seconds exactly to see that the watch didn’t move.
“He is NOT determination! I am!” William rushed forward, three steps towards the Dandy Man while rotating his wrists to the left, leveling his blade and slashing upwards at him!
The Dandy Man stood and watched this all happen, and then was gone in a blur of movement! The whole world moved in that same split second, aside from William, who remained on his course at his own pace. The people around him, on the street, on natators, had moved several feet in that instant but were back to crawling forward at a glacial pace.
“Honestly, that is no way in which to treat a host whose purpose is to deliver you a message! Really, consider your manners, won’t you?” the Dandy Man spoke from behind William, who turned heel on the spot and faced the tall man in white who now twirled the thin black cane in circles to his right. “We can continue to attempt to play tag for a while if you like, there is time allocated for it, but as you know, I am a busy man and have many a place to be. If I could be spared the several seconds of tedium, I would be much appreciative to you, host to guest.”
William grit his teeth and lowered his sword. He didn’t like the Dandy Man for a number of reasons, not the least of which being he was partially responsible for William being here in Mirage in the first place.
“Atta boy! Might I suggest that you go and retrieve your sheath from off the street there? I wouldn’t want you to lose it,” the tall man suggested, gesturing towards the discarded leather covering that was lying in the middle of the road. Wordlessly, William turned around and walked over to get it.
“When the hell did Mr. Wink send me?” William asked as he put his blade back into its covering.
“From your perspective, relative to when you were before your departure, you have been displaced by a little over three thousand years, by my best guess anyway.”
William snapped his head around and glowered at Mr. Wink’s messenger. “Three thousand years!?”
“Give or take a few centuries. I’m not actually certain of the exact date you see, that is more Mr. Wink’s domain of expertise. Never the less, I -”
“Where is Cornello? Was he sent here as well!?”
“That, I am afraid, I cannot inform you of for certain. Mr. Wink, as you know, sent your Mr. Cornello adrift before you, and so they could be anywhere! My deepest apologies, but I’m afraid that that is all I know of your compatriot.”
William roared in frustration and turned his back on the Dandy Man, gripping the blade of his sword through the protective leather covering tightly. He wanted to use it so desperately, but he knew that it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Not while he was employed by Mr. Wink…
“Why? Why did Mr. Wink have to get involved with me now?” William demanded to know, turning back around and glaring at the dark eyes of the messenger. “He’s always done his own thing separate from the rest of us! Why did he pick now to stick his nose into my business!?”
“That, I’m afraid, I also cannot inform you of. I am merely a messenger and a host, and am not privy to all of Mr. Wink’s machinations. Even if I was, it would be quite impossible for me to understand them. Ultimately, his reasons are his own. However, as I said, he did seem to believe that you were on a course which would result in yet another instance of Cathedral Terra, and so set you on another. One which he, presumably, believes will not,” the tall messenger explained. “Hence my fortuitous and punctual arrival. I am here to set you on a path which will -”
“And why should I give a damn!? What’s stopping me from running off into the desert and dying so I can get a new eidolon and try to fix whatever mess he’s dragged me into!?” William snarled.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. Choice is yours, Twilight, to command as you see fit, even for yourself. However, I must say that I would not recommend it. I have a feeling that, if you did, you would force Mr. Wink’s hand to send you back to this moment in whatever new body you emerged with, effectively delaying what he has deemed to be inevitable; something which you could do indefinitely, for sure, but, we are all of us on limited time, and, I believe you’ll agree, said time is better spent on things less trivial than petty delays.”
“I fucking hate how smug you are,” William growled. The Dandy Man simply grinned cheerfully. “What am I even doing here? If Mr. Wink saw I was destined to fail, what makes him think that being here and now will help me succeed?”
“Ah, yes, the crux of the matter,” the messenger said, whipping his cane around and bringing the tip of it against the poster that William had been examining before with a deafening crack. “You were just pondering this poster, yes?”
“It’s new,” William said bluntly, walking over to get another look at the poster while the Dandy Man tapped on it with his cane.
“Very astute. Yes, it is new, as is much about this era.”
“The civil war,” William stated.
“Inconsequential to you, for the moment, at least. It’s yet to be determined if it will have a larger role to play or not, as far as I can tell,” the tall dark man said, dragging his cane down over the poster and tapping it on the glass. “There are things here in Mirage which Mr. Wink feels would be of interest to you, and he has asked me to tell you as such. Without your presence these past three millennia, roughly speaking, things have been allowed to progress organically, until such a time the Eidolon of Twilight’s touch was deemed necessary, and it has much to do with these technicians.”
“Get to the point,” William demanded as another bass-like strum of the stringed instrument made its disturbing, distorted call.
“Gladly,” the messenger said, looking at his pocket watch again and stuffing it back into his jacket. “Mirage is holding many secrets under the guise of good will for all ningen and bloodlings, what few of them there are, who dwell here. Secrets which, I suspect, have much larger ramifications for the fate of this world than just some silly brother’s squabble over who wears a crown and why. You are hereby tasked with discovering said secrets and seeing if they lead you anywhere in particular.”
“If I do this, will Mr. Wink return me and Cornello back to where we were?” William asked, keeping his eyes fixated on the posted because he could no longer stand to look at the Dandy Man.
“I can’t say, as I was not made privy to any such details. It’s not as if Mr. Cornello is being held hostage. I am sure that they are safe and sound.”
William gave no answer. He didn’t believe for a second that Cornello wasn’t being held hostage.
“Until next time then. I must be off! Appointments to keep, I must always be punctual you know!” The Dandy Man turned and walked back into the darkness of the alley, tapping the glass ground beneath him twice with his cane and for a brief moment speeding the world up as he vanished and then the world was returned to normal. The sweet, harmonious sounds of the instrument being played filled the air along with the voices of people, the whooshing of passing natators. Life allowed to exist without intervention once again.
William closed his eyes and pressed his head against the poster somehow suggesting that it, or the technicians, or perhaps something else entirely, were for the ‘good of us all’ and the thought of it turned his stomach in knots with anger! He raised his fist up and pounded his knuckles against the sandstone in frustration! What was Mr. Wink’s game!? Where was Cornello!? As he pulled his head back away from the poster and looked at the soulless, painted eyes of the machina technician, he asked an entirely different question:
What was wrong with this city that it required an eidolon’s intervention?