William stepped back inside of Joscur’s house and was immediately met with excitement from Vamenco, who was still being wrangled by Bolara, and confusion from the latter. The little boy rushed back over to William and was excited to see him back so soon, to potentially play or hear stories!

“That was a short walk… you cannot have gone anywhere,” Bolara observed how William had only been gone for perhaps a minute or two at the most.

“Yeah, I know, I just… decided that I’d better wait until Joscur gets back before wandering around,” William lied. His right knuckles were bright red where the rest of his skin was pink. He made sure that Vamenco didn’t touch that hand.

“I see… that was wise of you. I will get that drink for you now,” Bolara said, walking over to the kitchen area and to the yakhchāl on the west wall, opening up the personally conical shaped refrigerator that nearly every home in Mirage had. Inside was a large block of ice which was kept insulated from the heat of the outside and never melted because of this, allowing for the placement of shelves around the ice which held things, such as the fresh water terracotta jug which Bolara removed to pour William a drink.

All the while, Vamenco excited bounced on the balls of his feet in front of the black haired stranger, eager to remove that title from him as quickly as possible! “Are you going to tell me stories about the Wastes now?” the young boy asked, grinning a toothy grin.

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course,” William said, losing himself in thought for a second before walking, with Vamenco eagerly leading the way, to the sitting area. Taking a seat on the pillows, he sat his sheathed blade down beside him and got comfortable, not noticing the day before how cool the floor was in this pit compared to the floor only two steps above it. Being deeper in the ground meant that it was cooler than its surroundings it would seem. The ginger haired boy sat right beside him and looked up at his sunburned face expectantly.

“Right… what would you like to know?” William asked softly.

***

Marisia sat in the shade of the stall she worked at with Kara by her side. Today they were helping to sell imported fruit from passers by. A young boy stood in front of the stall calling out to others, encouraging them to try the exotic sweets from the mainland! He was around Marisia’s age she was pretty sure, perhaps a little younger, but he was loud! He knew full well had to project his voice so that it cut through the throngs of people. Somewhere down the way she could just make out the pleasant notes of a kora someone was playing.

Marisia was lost in thought, contemplating the new comer into her home and thinking about what she’d learned about him the night before. Not so much, really, but enough to hold her interest. It wasn’t often at all that people were found alive in the Wastes so close to Mirage. She could seldom recall the occasions on one hand in which her father, or someone else in the city guard, had been tasked with retrieving a body from the harsh sands that surrounded their little oasis, let alone someone that was alive who wasn’t a reaver that needed to be driven away! And the way which her father was reluctant to let her ask questions about him; why was that? What was he trying to keep her from knowing? Did he know something she didn’t about William? The more she thought her way around in circles on the matter, the less she heard the world around her, the more Kara had to speak up to get her attention!

“Hm? Sorry?” Marisia asked in her native Mirage-Tongue.

“Pay attention, Marisia, and take the man’s money!” Kara said, prompting the blind girl to sheepishly hold out her hands into the sunlight where gems were deposited onto her palms. She used her thumbs to spread them out and count the number of them.

“How much?” she asked Kara, pulling her hands back and showing her the flat-carved stones in her hands.

“More than enough, hold on one moment while I get his change,” Kara said, scooping the gems from Marisia’s hands and leaving her to hold them up for a few moments while she stacked the appropriate gems in the abacus beside her and pulled out the change. She passed back the man’s money once it was placed in her palms and he took it from her. “Soft winds to you,” he said, his voice low and husky.

“Soft winds!” Kara and Marisia said simultaneously, Kara more enthusiastically than her friend who folded her hands in her lap and let out a near silent sigh through her nose. Marisia listened to her friend scooting a bit closer to her and felt her leaning closer as she said, “You know I think he liked you! He was cute!”

“He sounded like all the rest to me,” Marisia said dismissively, her friend scoffing and giving her a playful shove on the shoulder. “What? He could be an old man for all I know! I can only go by the sound of their voice, Kara!” she tried to explain through a smile.

“Well he was not an old man, he was very handsome, and wealthy, by the looks of it,” Kara remarked, listing off the only observations she had about the customer and running off with wild fantasies that Marisia simply couldn’t indulge in. What was ‘handsome’ to a blind girl was very different from her friend, though she knew she meant no harm. It became very apparent that the talk of the customer was just a way for her to break the ice anyways.

“What is the matter with you today, hm? You have been so spaced out! Far off in the sky with the whales somewhere!” Kara exclaimed.

“I am bored, Kara! You know that work is boring to me when all I do is sit here and pass goods from you to the customer and vice versa!” Marisia said, moving her hands back and forth to illustrate her point. “There is too much noise here and I can barely make out anything past the stall! This is barely even work!”

“How many times must I tell you that you are lucky to be able to work at all?” Kara said, realizing that she’d stepped on this landmine again and was already exhausted of it. “I understand that you wish to do more, but being blind, there is not much which you can effectively do! The best you can hope for is to be an attractive face here in the markets to bring customers in.”

Marisia turned her face to Kara with pouting lips. “That is very inspiring, Kara, I am so grateful to have you as a friend!” she said, shoving her hard and earning a laugh from Kara.

“You know what I mean! Look, I know that you are capable of doing more and that this is not the right environment for you, but what is, hm? Do you want to be affixed to a loom all day making clothing while someone watches you and makes sure that you are not accidentally using the wrong color of thread?”

“No, I just… want to be doing more! I am not needed here, you could just as easily hand over the fruit and take the gems!” Marisia pointed out. She could practically hear Kara’s eyes rolling in her head.

“Yes, I could, but then we would not be able to be with each other nearly as much. You have the best, easiest job in all of Mirage! You should appreciate it more,” Kara said, thinking about how often the stall they worked changed. She and Marisia regularly worked different stalls with different people, assisting them in sales. Ostensibly, they had the same occupation, but both of them recognized that it was more in line of Kara watching after Marisia and making sure that she didn’t mess something up on accident because of her disability. The council did their best to make sure that even the disabled like Marisia were given a duty within the city so as to be useful to their community, but it was difficult, all the same, for her to not feel demeaned.

“I do not think that work is what has made you so quiet today, though,” Kara continued. The young boy who was helping them was currently hailing someone else and giving his best sales pitch about the fruit and Kara was watching to make sure that they didn’t have to temporarily drop their conversation in favor of attending to a customer.

“Do you not?” Marisia inquired, a bit worried about where she was going with this.

“No! I think that you are pondering the guest in your home!”

Of course that was exactly where Kara was going. Marisia pursed her lips and turned away from her friend, mentally chastising herself for not hiding her emotions better. Kara could somehow always read her so easily at it was annoying at times, such as this one right now!

“Aha! I knew it! Tell me more about him,” Kara insisted. The potential customer was walking along, evidently not interested in a treat.

“I do not know what else to tell you! He was quiet and polite and he had never had manoushe before or toum, and Vamenco seemed to like him, and baba did not want me questioning him! I have told you all of this already!”

“Yes, but what does he sound like?” Kara asked, leaning over and resting her head on Marisia’s shoulder, who scoffed and leaned her head against hers.

“I do not know. Quiet. He uses words I am not familiar with, probably because he is from the mainland. He sounded…” It was difficult for Marisia to properly articulate how people sounded to her. Hearing was her primary sense and so she had spent her entire life attuning herself to her ears in relation to the world around her. If she listened to someone enough, she could get a decent idea of what type of person they were based on what they said, how they said it, the weight and cadence of their voice. She knew what playful sounded like, she knew what serious sounded like. Sad, angry, stern, embarrassed, loving – all of this and far, far more she knew the sound of in people’s voices, yet for some reason she couldn’t place anything in William’s. It was as if he were purposefully hiding how he really sounded around her, putting on some bland, quiet disguise that changed his vocal patterns. She could tell that he wasn’t entirely being himself, and she assumed that was because of his ordeal and the new place he found himself in and the new people he was in the company of, but she still didn’t have an idea of who he was.

Which is why she smiled against the top of Kara’s head and finished her sentence after a momentary pause, “Handsome!” The two of them broke out in laughter that saw them jostling each other on the spot. Neither one of them liked to keep tension up for long between them of any sort. Their friendship was light and airy.

“You know what?” Kara began, lifting her head up from under her friend’s. “It is about time we took a break. Why don’t we head to your place, have some lunch, and come back with full bellies and really try to sell this fruit, hm?”

“Yes, this sounds good,” she agreed, the two of them rising up and interlinking their arms together so that Kara could lead Marisia along. They informed the boy that they would be back within the hour and that the stall was his and then were off, walking down the rainbow roads amid smaller crowds who did the same, veering off from the market and making their way to where Marisia lived. As they walked they spoke to pass the time, not really talking about anything in particular but at once everything; a joke about the weather which was almost always the same, griping about how much they were earning working stalls and how they should open their own, discussions on what they would sell, a joke about Scarlet Boulevard that ended in uproarious laughter between the two girls! A ridiculous notion, they were both in agreement! Together they were two young women right on the doorstep of the rest of their lives and before either of them knew it, they were opening the door to Marisia’s abode.

Kara had been in the middle of saying something when she stopped in the middle of her sentence, halting her steps as well which gave Marisia paused. She had been listening to her friend but she now heard the sound of William speaking, Bolara’s voice as he spoke up, “Oh, you are back. Pleasant moons!” He spoke Imperial.

“Pleasant moons,” Kara said. William had stopped talking and Vamenco cried out joyously for his sister, climbing over pillows and steps to run up to her! She let go of Kara’s arm to kneel down and hug her brother as he came rushing at her with gusto! “This… is your guest?” she asked. “William?”

“Hello,” William greeted.

Kara knelt down next to Marisia, held her hand up, and whispered in her ear, “He is handsome! How could you know that?” in Mirage-Tongue.

Marisia shushed her harshly and stood up, sending Vamenco back over to William’s side. Kara stifled a giggle, cleared her throat, and spoke. “Bolara, will you help me in the kitchen? We had come just to have lunch and are due back in the market.”

“Yes, of course,” the young man said, following Kara back to the kitchen, leaving the siblings and their guest alone for the time being.

“Tell me again about the reauslers!” Vamenco said, practically throwing himself down on the pillows next to William. He sounded excited, not scared, which was unusual for her brother.

“I thought you were terrified on reauslers?” she asked, walking over and stepping down into the sitting pit to join the two of them. “They eat naughty boys who go wandering off where they should not be!” she fibbed, reaching over and tickling her brother once she felt him, making him chortle in the cool living area.

“They did not eat William!” he countered through the laughter. “He faced them off with his sword and scared them away with the help of baba! He spoke to them and they talked back!”

“Did they now?” Marisia asked, lifting her head up and turning her ear to where she knew William to be. She’d been told they were smart, but she somehow found it difficult to believe that they could speak…

“They did,” William confirmed in the tone of a feather. “The green ones, anyway. The blue ones acted more bestial. Just hisses and barks from them.”

“William was telling me all about how he survived out there! How he was almost buried in sand twice and how he fell from the sky!” Vamenco said to his sister excitedly, sitting up and placing his hands on her shoulder and giving her a shake, trying to transplant his excitement into her through physical touch. She smiled and placed a hand on top of his. She was pretty confident that William had just been making things up, then, if he told her brother about talking reasulers and falling from the sky. Not that she minded, of course. Fictions were healthy for a young boy’s imagination.

“It sounds very exciting!” she encouraged with a smile. “I should like to hear all about it while Kara and I have lunch, if you do not mind retelling it, William…?” She turned her head to face him.

“I don’t mind,” he assured her, beginning to retell his story to a new audience.

***

The duties of a city guard are often monotonous and dull, that’s what he’d said to William before leaving that morning. It hadn’t been a lie, necessarily, more of a false opinion; Joscur was hardly ever bored at his job. Why would he be? What could be more exciting than to make certain that the streets of Mirage were safe from dangers inside and out? He wore the leathers of the city guard with a sense of pride. While everyone else had the privilege of wearing loose fitting, flowing, colorful clothes, he, and his fellow guards, shared the formfitting brown leathers that made them stand apart from everyone else, head to toe! In a desert such as this, it took discipline to wear such stifling clothing day in and day out; he was proud of his discipline.

Of course, beneath the protective curtain that surrounded the city, it was never really as hot as it should have been, even less so in shade, and he planned his route around when and where the shade would be unless he was specifically needed somewhere it wasn’t. City guards did not have a set area to patrol, but rather, were omnipresent throughout Mirage. Spread out thin, but never far apart from each other, Joscur almost treated it as a game to spot his fellow guards and give them a nod of acknowledgment. There were roughly five hundred men and women dressed in leathers like his all around the city, each one of them wandering, seemingly aimlessly, but vigilant.

Mirage’s multicolored streets had no names officially, no signs which to point you in any given direction. The city was constructed like a wheel with Natator Tower the center hub and the roads splitting off and converging to the tower the spokes, eight major roads in total, with several smaller roads connecting each of them together like spider webs. Much like the streets, each wedge of the city had no official names but the citizens referred to them by their direction and a number, either one or two, when communicating about what happened, was happening, or where to meet up. This naming convention was common knowledge and widely used. Joscur and his family lived in South Two.

After leaving William at Natator Tower, Joscur had gone about his duties as normal while trying not to dwell too much on the enigma that was William or the possibilities of the council’s decision. He’d already spent much of the previous day and night considering all of that already – a young man who fell from the sky and deposited in the Wastes. The council might throw him back out to die, or give him over to the reavers, those marauders who regularly poached and stole from wellermen whenever they could, who had historically refused to integrate with Mirage in favor of their wild ways. He couldn’t imagine that, if that was to be William’s fate, that he’d survive for very long in their care. He understood the reaver way of life to be a harsh one, fighting for scraps in the desert and plundering what they could of imperial goods. As far as he was concerned, it was no way to live at all.

Passing through the shade of tall buildings, still fairly early in the morning, most people weren’t out and about just yet this close to the tower. Mirage woke up from the outside in, with those working the markets which encircled the entire city getting up the earliest to set up their stalls or open their shops, tending to their duties that made the local economy circulate. Those who lived here, near the center of the city, were still getting up and would report to where they needed to be to work in the markets, as city construction and repair, machina mechanics, city guard like himself, wellermen, blacksmiths and more. Each and every day, people moved from the center of the city in all directions, inevitably headed for the edge like a tide pool, only to recede back to their homes come evening. This wave was predictable and peaceful for the most part, and Joscur liked it that way. As he passed the few people who were out and about like he was or hanging out of their windows, he made it a point to greet them with a smile.

As he patrolled he kept an eye open for any sort of disturbances. They were few and far between but vigilance was part of the job, so he did his part but moving along and only stopping to briefly chat with his fellow citizens. Normally, he would have started from his home and moved along in a counterclockwise circle through Mirage. Joscur never took the same path if he could help it. He made it a point to try and explore every street this city had to offer and familiarize himself with as much of it as he could, avoiding only those streets which still remained sand or were under construction, randomly zig-zagging and today was no different, only the starting point had changed. He was headed for East One currently following the main road from Natator Tower. He’d turn off of it soon enough and go where his feet lead him.

Joscur had no weapon on him today nor did he normally have one. There was no need. Mirage was mostly a peaceful city whose spats could be solved by a guard either intervening into a situation before it became physically violent or, if it had already become, direct physical intervention from the trained guards would put a stop to any brawling. Weaponry were kept in several stations throughout the city which guards like him could access in order to pull out what tools were necessary when they were called for. Joscur thought of this as he walked when he thought back on William with his naked blade. It was good that he was so cooperative. He really did need a sheath, though.

‘Perhaps I will have one made for him after I receive word of his fate,’Joscur thought to himself as he turned off of the main road down a side one heading north. ‘Assuming he is allowed to stay, it would be thoughtful to help him acclimate to Mirage and its customs. I can spare the gems!’

Thoughts of a purchase for later were interrupted by the buzzing of an ornithopter above his head. Joscur squinted into the sky which was quickly filling with natators and he spotted the flying machina as it flew past him. The teardrop shaped machina with insectile wings flitting past just beside the paths which the natators drifted on by, growing smaller by the moment as it left Joscur behind. He smiled at the sight of the ornithopter, feeling secure in its presence. They were the city guard’s eyes in the sky, helping to keep track of any disturbances within the city and making their responses more efficient. Like the natators, they roosted in Natator Tower and were attended to by technicians who repaired them and retroactively analyzed the footage they acquired during their flights. Watching them buzz by always filled Joscur with a sense of ease and a pang of regret. If they had ornithopters in Mirage four years ago, Syla might still be alive…

He turned back eastward down a different side street, thinking about the good that the ornithopters had brought to the city. Unlike the city guards, those machina were tireless and could see things from angles that they couldn’t. Very few of the guards patrolled the skies on natators, especially during the day, so having them around to sight acts of civil disturbance were a major help to their jobs! People had really grown used to their presence within the city now since their introduction. He used to see people cowering in fear from the ornithopters’ ever present gaze. Now they were numb, accustomed to their flights and recognizing that if they did nothing wrong, there was nothing to fear. Random crimes had gone down within the city as well since their introduction. Joscur deeply appreciated the ornithopters.

In time, Joscur made it to East One and began to head south. It was another peaceful day in Mirage it seemed, with everyone going about their business, him greeting them and being greeted in return. He’d only had to stop once in order to check on a small group of four boys who were playing and getting frustrated at one another. A quick word about fairness, a warning about rough housing, and they were on their way and he on his. He took some time to rest his legs in the shade of someone’s home while listening to someone practice the kora. The young woman wasn’t very good at it just yet, but her grandmother, he assumed, was sitting with her and helping her. If she kept up at it, he knew she’d be playing well before long.

As he rested his legs he watched one of the animunculi come marching down the street. It was the same sort that had been sent out with him and his team of other guards to get William the day before, big and bulky and lumbering. Joscur knew that there were supposed to be different types of animunculi that looked different, but these were the only ones he’d ever seen. They, too, patrolled Mirage though not in the same way that he and the ornithopters did. Their job was to maintain the barrier which surrounded Mirage. There were twenty of the giant metal men who wandered about the city and maintained the structural integrity of the barrier, tending to the machinery which kept it up and running. From what he understood it was a constant effort to keep the Wastes out! Periodically, sand would build up outside against the near invisible protective shell and would need to be cleared to help preserve the integrity of the city wall. Joscur didn’t quite understand it all, but he understood enough to know that they were just as essential for keeping the city functional as it was as the ornithopters. He showed his respect to the animunculi by nodding his head as it passed. It did not nod back. They never did.

Something else which the animunculi were responsible for were the clepsydras that were scattered around the city. Joscur watched as the walking metal giant strode past one just a bit north of where he now stood in the shade, the device placed in the intersection of a road. There were several such devices scattered around Mirage and they acted as both time pieces and wells, drawing up fresh water from deep beneath the ground to tell time and hydrate the city. Each was also equipped with a gnomon and there were markings in the glass streets which would let even those viewing them from on high know what time it was.

Seeing the clepsydra, Joscur was reminded about his near daily appointment with Daniellex. The godfather to his children tended to begin his days earlier than the guard and so took a lunch earlier than Joscur, which was usually a perfect little distraction for him during the mid early portion of his day. He made a detour to go check what time it was, pushing his way out of the shade and going only so far as to see the time before turning back around and heading south. By the time he arrived at his friend’s place, it should be his lunch break, where the two of them usually met up and spent the better part of an hour or so in each other’s company.

He knew the way by heart from practically any position in the city from his years of patrol and so made a swift beat to Daniellex’s place which took about forty five minutes or so. He, unlike Joscur, lived in one of the many apartment blocks which dotted the city. Individuals without families tended to live in these complexes, and Daniellex had been kind enough to relocate to South Two after Vamenco had been born so that he could spend more time together with Joscur and his family. He remembered fondly how the bushy bearded man had insisted. It was one of his favored memories from that dark time…

Arriving at his destination, Joscur would push the door inside and almost immediately encounter Old Baum, who always seemed to spend his days sitting in a chair and staring out of the window just next to the door, always seeming as if he was about ready to depart but not quite ready yet. His bushy white mustache couldn’t hide the smile on his face he always gave Joscur when he showed up nearly daily.

“Pleasant moons, Joscur. You are late today!” Old Baum said, holding his hand out. Joscur took it in his and smiled back.

“Pleasant moons, Baum. I had an errand to run this morning that kept me, and some children were on the verge of a scuffle in the streets!”

“Oh, those kids,” Old Baum scoffed, waving his hand dismissively, as though rejecting the very notion of childhood tomfoolery! Joscur enjoyed Baum’s company, but he was there for Daniellex and could only spare a limited amount of time and still remain a responsible guardsman.

“Soft winds to you, Baum,” Joscur said, releasing his hand and turning to head up the enclosed stairs that lead upwards to the third floor where Daniellex’s quarters lay. Old Baum turned in his seat and held his wrinkled hand out to Joscur as he walked past.

“He has left already, you should know!” he said, understanding Joscur’s purpose here. The guard stopped on the second stair and turned around to the old man, stepping back down with a puzzled look on his face.

“Oh? Did he say where he was going? Perhaps to my home?” he asked. Old Baum shook his head.

“No such luck. Nary a passing glance as he rushed out the door.”

Joscur’s concern grew. This wasn’t the first time that Daniellex had skipped their lunch appointment together, and it was either for a very serious reason, or a very silly one that he did so. The question now was which was it? Without another word he began to climb the stairs, heading upwards and around two flights as he got to the third floor where he headed straight for his friend’s room, but stopped some distance down the hall, sighed, shook his head, and turned back around to head downstairs. There was a long red ribbon hanging out of the door.

Joscur knew where Daniellex was.

Scarlet Boulevard was located in North One and was quite a walk away from South Two, over an hour and a half! Joscur imagined that Daniellex had gotten a natator to take him there instead of walking himself, which made this whole ordeal all the more annoying! This wasn’t the first time that he’d attempted to draw Joscur in to the pleasures that were available to those willing to pay gems, it probably wouldn’t be the last. As he walked he almost considered taking the long way around and making him spend more gems in order to stay there longer! It might have served him right for being so crass, but no. he ultimately decided to save himself time and simply take the major road directly to the east that lead straight to Natator Tower, head past it, and up into North One. He could do his job on the way there at least and make sure that all was in order.

Finding Daniellex wasn’t very difficult. It was more tedious than anything, Joscur having to, at once, keep both an eye and an ear out for his friend, and reject the advances of those who worked here who tried their luck at having a guard spend some gems on them. As an unofficial rule, city guards did not tend to frequent this part of North One so as not to slack on their duties, yet they were at once constantly checking in on the place to make sure all was well and in order, business going by without a hitch. Unsurprisingly, Scarlet Boulevard was one of the more active parts of the city when it came to disturbances and crime, so a constant presence of the guard was all but a requirement. None the less, he, and the men and women who took turns patrolling the entrances to the boulevard, tended to only stick to the outskirts unless they heard or were reported any trouble happening within. The ornithopters were a great help in this matter and had brought down fraternization greatly as a result.

He heard his friend’s bellowing laughter coming from up ahead and smiled, despite his annoyance, gently pushing past a worker on the boulevard to walk ahead to see Daniellex, lounging on an outside set of cushions with three women in red around him, one in each arm and one stood behind him. Seeing his friend, Daniellex’s eyes lit up! He sat upright and pulled his arms out from behind the women he’d hired for the moment. “Girls, girls, look! See? Did I not tell you he would come? The finest ningen you’re likely to see this side of the Empire!” he jovially boasted.

“I thought we were supposed to be meeting for lunch,” Joscur said, clasping one hand over the other wrist in front of his stomach and giving Daniellex an incredulous look.

“My work came to an end early today! I have no obligations left to keep me from here!” he said, turning to either side of him and placing a hand on either of the women’s thighs and rubbing on them. They smiled politely back at him and he pointed at Joscur. “I knew that you would follow me here. Come, sit! We can sup lunch here!”

“Dani, my friend, come now,” Joscur said, holding that same incredulous look. This was a discussion they’d had before.

“Joscur, please, my friend, I am begging you – you need to lighten up sometime!” Daniellex said, leaning forward and extending an arm out for Joscur to take. He did not.

“I appreciate the gesture, but truly, I would prefer if you did not pull me into this antics of yours.”

“But why not? You do not know what you are missing!” Daniellex tempted, turning to the woman on his right and moving his hand up to her cheek. Knowing the game, she nestled her cheek into his palm as he chuckled. “Her I bought the services of for you. Her name is Ouna, is she not a lovely girl? Ouna, darling, is my friend Joscur not a handsome man?”

“Oh, I would say so,” she replied, turning and giving Joscur a gentle smile, her teeth standing out brilliantly against her dark skin. He did not smile back.

“Do not squander this generosity, my friend! Come, sit with us! There is food and drink inside, and when we are ready, you and lovely Ouna can share a room, while I take another with these two!”

“Dani, please.”

The smile fell from Daniellex’s face. He reached over and gently took the hand of the woman on his left, lifting it up and giving it a kiss. “Girls, wait for me inside, will you? And perhaps bring some fresh water for us to drink?”

“As you wish,” the woman in red replied, the three of them standing and heading back in. Ouna gave a last look to Joscur before disappearing into the shade of the building.

“You know they cost a garnet each,” Daniellex said, trying to impress on his friend his generosity with this gesture.

“Likely for what you want to do with them,” Joscur countered.

“That is besides the point!” Daniellex said, waving his hand dismissively and sighing. He grabbed one of the smaller square pillows and tossed it over by Joscur’s feet. “Sit.”

“I am on duty, Dani.”

“And you are doing a fine job of protecting these working girls, now sit!” Daniellex spoke up harshly. Joscur took a seat on the cushion while Daniellex leaned forward and clapped his hands together in his lap. “Listen, my friend, you are not making this easier on yourself by refusing to take another woman to bed. It has been five years now; you are allowed to try and find happiness again!”

“And I will not find it in the arms of a woman I have paid for,” Joscur said gently, earning him a scoff from Daniellex.

“How do you know if you will not try, hm? You’re like a boy, refusing to try unicorn milk!” Daniellex scolded, waving his hand dismissively at Joscur before rubbing at his bearded chin.

“Look, I understand you mean well, but this simply is not for me, my friend,” Joscur said just as Ouna came back out with two cups in one hand and a jog of water in the other. She passed the refreshment to Daniellex who thanked her briefly and sent her on her way. He looked back after her as she went.

“I think you would be surprised…”

“I am not going to find happiness between the legs of a scarlet woman, Dani.”

“Highly doubtful!” Daniellex scoffed, looking back at his friend and pointing at him. “I still remember that stupid smile on your face the first day after you managed to get between Syla’s legs! It never left your lips once for over a week! You were downright dumb at the time, and you tell me you cannot find it again? Have you ever tried?”

“Come on, Dani – we both know the smile was for more than that,” Joscur said, taking a cup from his friend and looking down at his reflection in the water. “I am not ready to even try, yet. You know this, and you keep trying to push me into a ridiculous arrangement like this, wasting our time and your gems.”

“Only because I want to see you smile again, like you used to,” Daniellex replied somberly, taking a drink of the cool water. He sighed. “Five years since Syla passed… I know it has been hard, and that you are devoted to your family, but Joscur, my friend, my brother – you need to stop grieving eventually, for the sake of your children. You bury yourself in work and distract yourself as much as you can with duty.”

“Being a part of the city guard is important work,” Joscur said, not looking up from his cup.

“So is construction! Mirage would collapse in on itself if it was not for me and my hammer!” Daniellex boasted, leaning over towards Joscur. “But, I still make time for these little pleasures, so that I do not go mad! I fear you are letting grief drive you so, slowly, and you do not realize it yet…”

Joscur did not reply.

“Look, Jos, just… try, would you? It is easy. You never forget how to do it once you learn, you know.”

Joscur did not reply.

Daniellex sighed heavily. They both took drinks for their cups, Joscur after Daniellex.

“Okay. Well. I am not going to waste garnets. I am going inside,” the bearded man said, getting up from where he sat with the jug and cup in his hands.

“Dani.” Joscur stopped him with his name. “Thank you for trying. Just… not today. Will you come for dinner tonight?”

“Of course. I love spending time with my god children!”

“Wash up before you do, please,” Joscur requested, standing up and passing him the cup. Daniellex chuckled, poured what was left of the water onto the street, and went inside to get his three garnet’s worth of flesh.

Joscur left Scarlet Boulevard to continue his patrol.

***

By the time that Joscur had made it through North Two, West One and Two, and South One, he was ready for a break and some food. He made his way home for lunch, expecting the house to be empty or at the very least only Vamenco and his caretaker for the day present but was surprised to hear many voices coming from the open windows of his domicile. As he walked up to the front door, he recognized his daughter’s voice and grew confused. Wasn’t she supposed to be at work with Kara? He opened the door and walked in on Marisia, Vamenco, Bolara, who was often on duty to watch his son, and, most surprisingly of all, William, sitting in the pit around one another. All of them looked over at Joscur as he entered.

“Baba!” Vamenco cried excitedly, scrambling up and rushing his father who laughed and stood firm as his son ran into his legs and hugged his waist.

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“Vamenco, my boy,” he grinned, running his hands over his son’s bright hair. “You have so many people over today!”

“We were telling scary stories!” Vamenco excitedly declared, hooking his fingers into the leather thongs of his father’s gauntlets and pulling him over towards the sitting pit.

“Scary stories?” the father asked. “That does not seem like very good conversation over lunch…”

“Vamenco is to blame,” Marisia piped up with a cheeky grin. “He simply had to know what William had gone through, and William was explaining his experiences.”

“Oh?” The smile fell from Joscur’s face.

“With the reauslers you saved me from,” William spoke up, giving Joscur a knowing look. Joscur trusted that William understood he would not say too much from the look in his gray eyes.

“I was just telling Vamenco about the Tooth Collector!” Marisia chimed in, pulling his lips back to expose her teeth and holding his hands up like menacing claws! It was a favorite bed time story of hers who did not scare as easily as she once did. A boogeyman-esque figure, the sort that no one was certain where the stories had come from, it was a story about a lone figure wandering the Wastes with a cart filled and covered by teeth from the mouths of victims it had plundered. Supposedly, you heard its creaking wheels before you ever saw the Tooth Collector itself, and by then it was too late! Your teeth were forfeit!

Vamenco looked up at his father. “It is not true, is it? The Tooth Collector?”

“That old story?” Joscur asked, looking at his daughter. She’d been told that story growing up by her mother who used it to scare their daughter into behaving. Somehow, he just didn’t have the energy to play along. “It is just a tale, Vamenco. Nothing to be afraid of.”

“Baba? Is everything alright?” Marisia asked, hearing something in her father’s voice.

“Yes, all is well. I am hungry and thirsty, though. Marisia, why are you here and not at the market with Kara?”

“Kara agreed to cover my duties for me, what little they are, after we had our lunch.”

“Marisia,” Joscur scolded lightly. He spoke in his native tongue; “We must each do our part to beat back the Wastes, or else become a part of them.” A maxim spoken among the Mirage citizenry meant to inflame a sense of purpose.

Marisia had heard it plenty before and was tired of the maxim. “Yes, baba,” she said, turning away from her father. They’d had the same conversation that Kara and she had had before. She felt that he didn’t understand either.

“Bolara, could you find me something to eat? Manoushe and toum if any are left, I need to rest for a bit,” Joscur requested.

“Come on, Vamenco, help me find your father something to eat,” the young care taker said, getting up and reaching a hand out for Vamenco to take, who did and followed excitedly to help get his father’s lunch ready. Joscur took a seat down in the pit and let out a sigh, glad to be off of his feet for a while.

“So, how did your meeting with the Seven go?” Joscur asked William once he was sat down. Marisia turned back to sit at attention. She’d been avoiding this topic since she got back.

“They decided to let me stay in Mirage. I’ll be given somewhere to stay tomorrow, and they’re putting me to work as a wellerman,” William answered.

“A wellerman?” Joscur asked, perplexed by the council’s choice in vocation.

“Tomorrow? So soon?” Marisia asked, surprised to hear that he was leaving them already.

“Apparently,” William replied to both of them.

“Does that mean you are being allowed to stay permanently?” Joscur inquired.

“Only until they can get a hold of someone I know in the mainland.”

“Would you still come to visit us when you are in Mirage?” Marisia asked, earning her a look from her father.

“I suppose I could,” William said, his voice reflecting the gentle smile on his face.

“I think Vamenco would like that,” she said, herself smiling.

“Would he?” Joscur asked, his eyes shifting over to William. “My son has taken a liking to you?”

“He likes the stories I tell,” William replied.

“They’re very entertaining, baba,” Marisia said, reaching out and touching her father’s hand. He held his daughter’s fingers in his own and looked back and forth between the two young people sitting with him.

Bolara returned shortly thereafter with the manoushe and toum, giving Joscur a chance to eat while he rested. Conversation shifted again to scary stories about the Wastes, and it was Bolara’s turn to share about the time he swore he saw a geist just beyond the city shield. Vamenco seemed at once excited and horrified at the prospect of the specters out in the Wastes. Joscur believed in what Bolara said, having seen them himself. During these talks, William shifted and picked his sword up, laying it across his lap and surprising Joscur since it was now covered.

“Ah, you have a sheath now,” he said, delighted. “Seems you have saved me some gems. Who paid for it?”

“No one,” William informed him. “It was an order given by the council, so I think the smith made it out of obligation. He was kind enough to make it to my specifications, though.”

“Minimalist?” Joscur asked, noting how plain and ramshackle the leather covering looked.

“Fast,” William corrected.

“All the better, then. You should have no more issues with carrying it so long as it remains in its sheath while you are within the city,” the father reminded him, dipping more bread into the delicious condiment. He followed his statement up with an impulsive question. “Perhaps you can enlighten us as to why you refuse to part with it, now?”

William’s face fell at the question, his grip tightening on his weapon. “It’s a family heirloom. The most valuable thing that I own, the only thing I have left of my family.”

They were quiet at this revelation, but the five year old was the first to break it. “Do you no longer have a baba and suta?”

“Vamenco!” Joscur snapped at his son, who turned to look at his father with concern in his eyes.

“But baba! If he does not have a suta like we do he may be sad!” Vamenco protested in his native tongue.

“It is rude to ask about such things,” Marisia said likewise.

The little boy tried to argue the matter further but was shushed by his father, who also spoke in his first language to his children. “That is enough. He does not have to talk about such things if he does not want to,” he began to explain, but was interrupted by William speaking up over him.

“Yes, that’s right. I am bereft of mother and father… I don’t have anyone left from before,” he said dryly, pulling his knees up to his chest and thinking about what the Dandy Man had told him…

“We could be your new family?” Vamenco innocently suggested. Joscur didn’t have it in him to scold his son again, instead silently marveling at the young boy’s empathy. Marisia was right; he had taken a quick liking to this stranger from the Wastes.

His daughter was slightly more pragmatic. “Vamo, we have only known him for two days! Do not be so quick to adopt someone you do not know,” she told her brother who, by now, was beginning to feel as if he’d done something wrong but didn’t quite know what.

“I appreciate the thought, Vamenco. How about I just try to visit from time to time? Would that be alright?” William suggested, seeing how sad the little boy was looking, speaking to him but directing the question to the boy’s father with his eyes.

“Visits would be good,” Joscur agreed in between a bite of food. He did not say that he would check in periodically with the council and his fellow city guard to make sure that William was no one to be worried about. He might have made a favorable impression on his son, but the father was not about to let harm come to his children if he could help it, and if there was any chance that William was not worth trusting…

“How about more stories?” Marisia suggested in an attempt to shift the mood back to something more cheerful. So it went that the five of them sat together and exchanged stories until Joscur had to return to his patrol. Eventually, Bolara headed home for the day, leaving only three of them together to sit and talk and get to know each other. Come supper, Joscur and Daniellex both came around and shared a meal together with the children and their guest. Having spent much of the day getting to know each other, the mood was decidedly more relaxed than it had been the night before. As the day prior, Vamenco fell asleep first, then Daniellex left to head home, and before long, the other three headed to their rooms to rest as well.

For his part, William sat by the window in the hall and looked out at the street below, watching as ornithopters flew by and considering the poster on the wall, the Dandy Man’s words, what Mr. Wink could be planning, and thought of Cornello.

Joscur fell asleep thinking of his children, his late wife, and assuring himself that, if need be, he had the strength to protect his children against even a kindly stranger. Sleep did not come so easy to the father that night, be sleep did eventually come.

Marisia found herself lying in bed with her eyes open, a smile on her lips, thoughts consumed by the oddity that was William. He was so good with her younger brother, sounded so soft and kind, and told such wild, imaginative stories! Her sympathies were with him for not having a suta or baba anymore, thinking of how horrible it would be if her own father were no longer with her and her brother! She knew more about their guest than she did yesterday, and tomorrow he would sleep elsewhere within Mirage, but tonight he was her, and there was still so much about him that she did not know. Her curiosity alight even as she began to drift off to sleep, she dreamed of soft sounds that William made, her brother’s laughter, and her mother.

***

The next morning, Joscur woke William up from the guest room just before dawn and informed him it was time to go. With but the new clothes on his back and the newly covered blade, William left the house before Marisia or Vamenco had woken up and was met with a small escort of three individuals who had a natator of similar size of the one he’d ridden the day before.

“Wellermen are respected for the duties they perform for Mirage,” Joscur informed William, drawing the pale stranger’s attention to him. “I have been told the labor is hard and varied, but they keep our city alive with everything that they do. You will find that your fellow wellermen take pride in what they do, and you should as well for as long as you are here in Mirage.”

William did not answer, but he did smile.

“Well, soft winds to you, William. You are free to come and visit any time, so long as Marisia, myself, or Daniellex is here at least. She usually ends her shift at the markets in the mid afternoons, so that would be a good time to come around without warning,” the father explained.

“Soft winds,” William replied with a nod of his head and boarded the natator to depart.

Their first stop was in West One, where William’s apartment was. It was near the docks and the space was relatively small, on the third floor and outfitted with only some basic amenities. The apartment was bare and he would be free to decorate it as he saw fit when he had the time and the gems. An open room that was at once living room and kitchen, a small hall way at the back which lead to a window looking out at the city beyond, a room to the left that could serve either as his bedroom or storage if he chose to sleep in the opening room. Simple accommodations.

His living quarters shown to him, William was then taken to the docks, where he was handed off to the ningen that would be his captain. Her name was Teutna and she, like him, had pale skin, although hers was tanned over and covered in freckles anywhere it was exposed. Her hair was boisterous and sun-bleached brown, her eyes a warm cocoa. She wore practical desert-faring clothing that was coarse and dirty from her excursions in the Wastes, loose fitting and airy. She was the only other person in Mirage that he had seen with skin as light as his. She was several inches shorter than he was and far more stout and rugged as well. William was relinquished to her by his guides and they left to head back into Mirage.

“Rally-ho, kinsman. Have you been told what it is you’ll be doing?” she asked him. She spoke with a thick accent that William was unable to place.

“Only vaguely,” he confessed.

“Well the job’s simple,” she said, turning around and heading towards her ship. “You do what I say when I tell you to do it. If you get confused, you ask one of the mates. Understood?”

“Understood,” William confirmed, following her.

The Andros, as he would soon learn the ship was called, as an athletic looking boat. Thin and flat, crafted mostly of wood with an aggressive beak and sharp bowmeant for cutting through the desert sands and carving the way for them. On each side of the ship were three long, thin metallic arms which could be raised or lowered and served as both anchors and rudders, the ends capped with collapse-able sails to aid in catching the wind when opened. At the front of the deck was a pair of harpoon cannons meant for both the defense of the ship and the capturing of sand whales. The cannons were canopied by a collapse-able and adjustable tent of thick crimson canvas, providing both shade and protection from the sands. A second, far larger canopy of similar make covered the rear half of the Andros as well, shading the large machina engine which powered the adjustable propellers which hung off either side of the ship towards the rear, capping off a pair of torpedo shaped balloons which stretched two thirds of the length of the hull and gave the sandsailor limited flight capabilities in a pinch. Said balloons could be inflated or deflated at will by flipping switches on the engine to light a fire beneath them and fill them with hot air. At the foremost point of the rear canopy sat the wheel, and just in front of that rested the large steps which lead down into the hull of the Andros where cargo was kept, the crew slept, or shelter could be taken in the event of an unfortunate haboob. This lower deck was protected by a pair of folding doors which opened up on either side.

Climbing aboard the Andros was a literal climb, the port side of the ship equipped with a thick-roped net that was tossed over the side with two anchors which gained purchase into the sand below and kept the net steady for climbing up and down. “ALL HANDS ABOARD THE ANDROS! LET’S GET ‘IM OUTTA MIRAGE AND INTO THE WASTES!” Teutna called out for all to hear, the only warning she gave that they were about to shove off. “William! Your first duty is to weigh the net anchors and pull it aboard. Others will help you, dislodge the anchors with a good flick of the wrist, aye?” the captain explained, turning around half way as she walked, holding her arms out, and demonstrating what she meant by a ‘good flick’ by waving her arms up and down while holding an invisible rope. “I’ll accept ‘yes, mum’ or ‘aye, captain’ as confirmation you understand my orders, is that clear?”

“Aye, captain,” William replied. She smiled and hopped onto the net, quickly climbing her way up with the dexterity that comes with hundreds of repetitions and pulled herself over the side before disappearing overhead. William set to work dislodging the anchors from the sand. With the help of two others, after coming aboard, he pulled the rope net up and rolled it up and shortly thereafter the Andros was off, the engines firing up, propellers whirling and Teutna steering the sandsailor away from Mirage and out of the protective barrier into the blazing heat of the Wastes, carving head of them great waves of loose flying silt as it charged forth through the dunes!

Over the course of the next month, the Andros was William’s primary home. It was only every few days that the Andros made port at the western side of Mirage, same as other sandsailors. During that time, he became acquainted with the other members of the crew that he shared with, all fifteen ningen, and got to know them and they he. They were quick to inform him of his duties and the proper protocols aboard the Andros. He learned terminology and the proper order of things about a sandsailor. He made sure to do whatever Teutna told him to do when she told him to do it. He learned what it was that a wellerman was supposed to do.

A wellerman’s duties were many. When possible, they were to hunt for sand whales first and foremost. Sand whales, those colossal swimmers of the sands, were at once one of Mirage’s chief exports to the rest of the Empire, every part of the great amphibious beasts used and harvested. At almost all times at least one member of the crew was supposed to keep watch for signs of them carving their way through the sands. They were easily spotted if moving by the gigantic displacement of sands that gave away their wake. Part of what made them so valuable was the metallic minerals which accumulated on their skin, clinging and embedding themselves into the very flesh of the creatures. These hides were harvested and used for many things. The meat, fats, organs and bones were all processed, packaged, and shipped out whenever one was successfully captured and slain. The cannons at the front of the ship were used primarily for this purpose.

During this month, William was only able to take part in the hunting of a sand whale once. The whole thing was very exciting and lasted longer than expected. He was helping another deckhand remove sand from off of the deck (a common occurrence) when suddenly there was a great commotion! Cries of a sand whale being spotted off the starboard caused ningen to drop what they were doing and look out, William included. Even from as far away as they were he could see how the sands moved to make way for the large animal gliding its way underneath it.

“MAN THE CANNONS! ALL HANDS PREPARE TO BE DRAGGED! I WANT THIS SHIP TO BE READY TO FLY IF NEEDED!” Teutna bellowed out. Her voice was always easily the loudest among the crew, there was never any mistaking it. By the time this happened, William understood what it meant to be ‘dragged’ – once the harpoons were lodged within the sand whale, the creature was allowed to haul the ship wherever it pleased with only occasional resistance from the Andros itself so that it tired itself out. Naturally, this was dangerous letting such a large animal dictate where the ship was headed so crew were required to tie themselves down with rope attached to the sides of the ship to prevent anyone from going overboard. Once the order was given, ningen scrambled to find a rope to secure themselves with, William included, and from there they needed only to watch unless told otherwise.

Four of the crew mates manned the cannons – two to aim, two to load the harpoons – and Teutna steered the ship. The way which she manipulated the Andros was simply masterful. William would come to find out that she’d been the captain of one sandsailor or another for the better part of two decades and so had an uncannily good understanding of how they operated. With a stomp of her feet upon two separate pressure plates, the small sails at the ends of the arms folded up, and with the pull of a lever to her right they dropped as one, digging into the sand and causing the entire ship to turn on a dime, careening nearly on it’s side until she reversed the lever and the arms were pulled back upwards, the Andros righting itself and now headed straight for the whale!

It was amazing how fast the sand whale could move through the dunes, but the propeller launched ship was faster. In very little order they were upon it and the rotating cannoneer nest took aim! “FIRE!” the captain roared and the crew obliged, twin thundering booms of cannons rocking the ship backwards with their power as the chain-linked hooked spears were sent sailing through the desert air and crashing down into the sands and the flesh of the beast!

As soon as the twin harpoons had found purchase within its hide the sand in which the animal hid erupted, a billowing plume of sand shooting skyward before an explosion followed as the magnificent creature rose up from beneath the desert film and let out a torturous cry of pain! It was mostly flat and wide, with four paddle-like fins each about five meters in length. It’s skin was perfectly camouflaged with the sand around it, sparkling in the desert sun from the embedded metals! The underside of it’s ventral pleats were a lighter color tan than its upper portion. Rising in protest to its fate, it was easily over fifteen meters long and came crashing back down into the sand, sending it flying up as easily as it might have done water before trying to dig away, pushing back down beneath the dunes and pulling the chains of the harpoons down with it.

“GET ME AIRBORNE! FORWARD TILT!” Teutna ordered, a pair of crewmates rushing forward from where they were at on either side of the engine and turning the wheels that lit the fires to the balloons which inflated rapidly before dropping to the floor and holding onto their ropes with both hands. The captain pushed the wheel forward after stomping on a latch which held the column in place and the propellers began to tilt, lifting the Andros up in the air from the rear of the ship and pulling back against the sand whale below! Every crew member, including William, not holding onto something were quickly sent sliding down the deck and hung by their protective ropes!

The whale gave some fight but quickly realized it would not retreat down with the harpoons pulling on its back, so it began its only other course of retreat; upwards. Sand whales, much like sand sailors, were capable of limited flight by first rising to the surface and then inflating specialized steam bladders within their body to and expelling all of the air in their lungs and these organs out of vents along the sides of their bodies, they are able to leap into the air and soar temporarily!

“BRING US DOWN!” the captain demanded as soon as she saw the whale beginning to breach the surface again, the same two crew members climbing up their ropes and pushing off of the sides of the ship to leap and grab a hold of the engine before reversing the wheels and cutting off the fire to the balloons. As soon as the hiss of the flame was silenced, Teutna yanked on a lever between her legs and forcibly collapsed the twin balloons on either side of the ship, expelling the air and bringing the Andros back down into the sand, the quaking impact causing all hands to either leap into the air to avoid the impact, as experience had taught them to do, or be bounced like a doll, as William did!

As the sand whale inflated the lower part of its body and expelled the air in great gusts that send clouds of desert dust flying in either direction behind it, much of it billowing on the Andros itself, it rose up into the air, fanning its muscular tail and flapping its flippers like wings, trying in vain to free itself from its captors. Alas, with the harpoons firmly lodged within it and the weight of the Andros back on the surface of the dunes acting as an anchor, whipping back and forth with Teutna whipping the wheel as necessary to keep the ship upright, the whale was unable to break away and was forced to collapse back down into the hot sands in another majestic puff of silt and soil. It had but one course of action left to it – swim and try to make it to water, but by this point it was too late. Try as it might, the engine of the Andros was strong and between allowing the whale to pull it where it may and reversing the rotation of the propellers to pull backwards on the whale and slow it down, over the course of a couple of hours, they managed to exhaust the animal and bring it to a halt.

What followed was a mercy killing of the animal, the crew disembarking off of the Andros with harpoons in hand to deliver a death blow through the eye of the beast. The hides were especially thick and difficult to pierce without the air of a cannon, earning them the nicknames ‘animunculi whales’ because of the metallic cause of this natural armor, and so the only way to swiftly and easily put the creature out of its misery was through the soft tissue of its eye and to the brain beyond. Its end was as merciful of one as any hunter could give such a creature. William still felt sad at seeing it pass on. With the creature successfully hunted the crew of the Andros disembarked and headed back to Mirage, dragging the carcass behind them as they went with the ship being piloted in reverse, the steering column able to rotate for this very purpose. While reversed, the helmsman required the air of two crew members, one on each side, to guide them as the engine made any sort of viewing near impossible.

This hunt was but one duty of a wellerman. ‘Animunculi whales’ were at once rare, both scarcely found and tricky to spot because of their near perfect camouflage, and their hunting limited by imperial law. A single whale provided a bounty of materials that could last for months if managed properly, so while quite profitable for Mirage to do so, only a couple dozen or so were hunted and captured each year, making each one an exciting event that sustained ningen life in the Wastes and propelled economies. Sand whales were in of themselves an entire industry because of their value.

They were far from the only industry, however. The majority of a wellerman’s job was to transport cargo to and from Mirage to one of several ports along the eastern coast of the continent, where the Wastes met the Eundian Sea. The closer that one came to this sea, the more greenery you saw. By the grace of the ocean and its weather flora was able to thrive here for a few key miles before giving way to the ocean of sand. Trees, bushes, ferns, grasses, and cacti, some bearing water-rich fruits, could all be found there along with settlements which served as ports and imperial outposts. Expeditions into the Wastes itself were difficult enough even with the proper equipment, so the Empire’s direct presence was only felt here along this eastern coast where it could be more easily defended and enforced, leaving the Wastes and its inhabitants to their own. One such port which the Andros frequented was a small village known as Dragon’s Perch, roughly three day’s journey from Mirage.

From there, the Andros and his crew were able to pick up and drop off crates, packages, receive and give any mail going to or from Mirage, shipments of food and wine, clothing and materials such as wood and steel not easily found or crafted within the desert, and, importantly, raw gemstones which were only ever delivered to Dragon’s Perch.

Part of what made Mirage such an industrial trade city were the existence of gemstone mines within the Wastes. In centuries passed, by chance and the raw determination to make it so, the inhabitants of Mirage had managed to dig out great pits within the Wastes, revealing the bounty of raw gemstones deep below the surface which were mined up and shipped to the mainland in order to be manufactured and faceted into the gems which were used as currency by one and all within the Empire, the very same sort which William had seen Joscur using. In these great pits, which the Andros occasionally pulled up beside in order to receive shipments of the raw stones and deliver empty crates and barrels for their trafficking, were troves of clear quarts, citrine, amethyst, diamonds, and the rare, occasional vein of garnet, aquamarine or topaz, as well as other precious gems which were not used for currency but instead other industries, were retrieved from the ground. The rarer, and thus more valuable, currency gemstones, sapphire, emerald, and ruby, could not be found here, and even the garnet, aquamarine and topaz veins were hard to come by. The majority of the stones mined here were of the lower quality and rarity. Over the course of the month, William, aboard the Andros, would visit three of these yawning pits into the underground, all of which were within a day’s travel by sand sailor from Mirage itself.

When the Andros and his crew were not delivering goods from Mirage to Dragon’s Perch or vice versa, visiting the gemstone mines which helped the empire at large to function, or hunting sand whales, something else that a wellerman was charged to do was to trawl the sands. This was the second most common duty which they undertook, and it was fairly simple. The Andros would be equipped with a magnetic mesh net with thousands of tiny holes like a sieve that was tossed out from the back of the ship from which it was attached and from there the Andros would simply sail, gathering sand as it went. The Wastes’ sands were filled with tiny particles of metal, some of it ferrous and some of it not, which could be harvested and repurposed. The silica sand particles were filtered out through the sieve while the metallic hunks were gathered, and when there was enough of them, the Andros would return to Mirage where animunculi would take the net away, harvest the metal particles gathered, and sort them meticulously by type. These metallic powders would then be shipped off to the mainland, smelted down into Mirage itself, or be sent south to Golem’s Isle, where the bulk of the animunculi population of the world dwelt, to be used as they see fit.

The metal particles within the sand were but one of the reasons why the Wastes were so dangerous, making such thick, adjustable canvas necessary for the sand sailors, why protective clothing was so important. The sand was loose and ever shifting, carried by the wind and fickle at the best of times, hostile at the worst. If a sandstorm or a haboob was seen on the horizon approaching the crew were to shut the Andros down, anchor it in place, make sure the engine was covered, the balloons deflated (if not so already), and everyone was to crowd below deck to wait out the storm. The whipping sands slung slivers of metal like shrapnel, slicing through tender flesh such as a ningen’s with frightening easy and causing havoc on an unprotected body! William, and the others, had a small stash of protective gear and masks, like Joscur and the other guards who had initially rescued him from the Wastes wore, in the off chance that they needed to go outside during such an event. Hunkering down during the Andros’ first encounter with these harsh, dry storms, William realized how lucky he had been on his first day that he had been cowering behind a dune already and that the sand had merely blown over him as a result, burying him but sparing him from any major lacerations.

On top of these extremely hazardous storms, hydration was paramount. At all times there were at least five, dozen gallon, barrels of water stocked below deck. If they had any less, Teutna refused to set sail. The metallic sands of the Wastes grew incredibly hot incredibly easily, and dying of thirst on any trip was a distinct possibility if you were unprepared for a wayward haboob to leave you stranded in place for days on end.

There were also the reauslers to consider. Although rarely a concern, those intelligent predators were sought out along the horizon just as often as sand whales and steered clear of if so much as a hint of them were spotted. Thankfully their colored hides made seeing them fairly easy, and on more than one occasion William gave the call of a pack spotted off in the distance which altered their course. Those reptilian pack hunters were dangerous enough to a crew of wellermen armed with scant else but personal equipment and the tools required for hunting sand whales that it was better to lose time and give them as wide of a birth as possible than risk them attacking a ship. William was regaled with stories of careless crews which had found themselves swarmed and preyed upon by packs of the ravenous hunters who managed to either catch up to their sand sailor or sneak up on them in the dead of night. Some of the crew believed, as he knew, that they could speak, and would sometimes mimic the voices of others to try and draw people overboard before ambushing them!

Yet more fauna to be weary of where pupa, titanic insects which mostly dwelt to the north of the Wastes and seldom came as far south as Mirage and the surrounding area. Never the less, if one was spotted, the best course of action was always to run without giving them the chance to pursue! Pupa were capable of flight and had voracious appetites, consuming whatever they could get their mandibles on! Worse, yet, though, were their larva. A ‘pupa shower’ happened when a pupa queen flew overhead and decided to lay her eggs while airborne, a natural part of their life cycle. What made this so dangerous, though, was the larva’s ability to catch fire if it is disturbed from its sandy bed! This self immolation did kill the infantile bug, but so much as a single one of them beneath a sand sailor could spell doom for the entire ship and crew – and if they were not disturbed, the little babies were just as hungry as the adults, digging out pits in the sands and waiting for prey to either fall in or get close enough that they could leap out and latch onto an unsuspecting passer by!

Then there were reavers. The ningen natives of Mirage and those imperial mainlanders at coastal ports like Dragon’s Perch were not the only people on this continent. Far to the west, as far away from the mainland as you can get before you start to circumvent the globe and travel back around, tribes of merciless, savage desert dwellers lived, eking out meager existences by plundering sand sailors like the Andros. Little was known about them or their ways, how they managed to survive so persistently without the protection of the shield which surrounded Mirage – which was partially necessary because of the reavers! Stories claimed that they somehow coexist with the reauslers, learning from their ways and competing with them for what resources exist in the omnipresent barren wasteland. One thing was certain: Reavers were far more dangerous than the weather, reauslers, or pupa capable of striking at any time and without warning. They encountered no reavers during this month of work and toil. William was glad for this.

Most mysterious of all, though, were the geists. William had been told about them that last evening he had spent at Joscur’s home with his family, but to actually see them was chilling in its own way. Rarely, the flickering silhouette of a geist was visible traveling over the sand, standing ominously, flailing about, or simply phasing in and out of view. No one was quite certain what they were – spirits of the deal, illusions of the desert, some other phenomena – as no one had ever identified a geist by any of its features. What features were visible were distorted and shaky, shimmering as though their entire existence was naught but flashing light, and their actions inscrutable. The ningen aboard the Andros, Teutna included, always regarded them as a bad omen and gave them as much space as was possible to give. They never seemed to move towards them as though to cause harm. They never made sounds. They appeared at random, day or not. No one was certain as to what they truly were…

William knew. The first time he saw one left him sullen for the rest of the day. He’d been allowed to sit below deck, the captain believing that he’d somehow been affected by them. If only she knew.

He tried not to look at them whenever they were spotted again, to save himself the misery.

When the crew of the Andros was not out working in the Wastes, they made port at either a coastal village like Dragon’s Perch or were allowed a day or two of leave in Mirage to rest and recuperate. During this time, with what wages William had managed to earn for himself in gems, the crew would spend time together just as much as they would apart. Some were entirely eager to be separated from the people they’d spent the last few days with and would go their own way immediately. Others would stick together, grab a drink, some food, visit Scarlet Boulevard. Teutna tended to be part of the latter group, and did her best to make William feel included, spending as much time with him as he would allow and never trying to push herself onto him or coerce him into spending more time with the other ningen. She respected his personal space and time just as she did everyone else’s. As ladylike as such a stout, gruff woman could be.

While he was spending time with them, either on the ship or during their time off, William probed them for information as much as he could. He asked all kinds of questions – Where do these goods get sent to? Where are sand whales processed? The metal we gather from the sands? How long had the ornithopters been in the city? How long ago had the shield been erected? How active is the Council of Seven in city life? What were the posters for? Among many, many others. He didn’t rush the questions and didn’t ask them so often as to seem anything more than curious about his surroundings. The black haired stranger was slow, patient, careful with his words. He learned much through his questioning that did little to dissuade the ill sense of ease in the pit of his stomach when he thought of his encounter with the Dandy Man.

When he was not spending time with the men and women he worked with, or resting at his newly appointed abode, he made a point to visit Joscur and his family. Often times he was allowed to spend the night there. Vamenco and Marisia were always so happy to have him visit! Joscur warmed up to him more and more as he came around, sharing stories about his occupation as a wellerman, and Daniellex was there just as often as he was. Between the five of them, the father, godfather, children, and the guest, William spent the time relaxing as much as he could, letting his mind rest as well as his body. He was drawing closer to his answers, but he wasn’t there yet. These little breaks, spending time with a family that so clearly loved one another and extended that love and care to him, were as balm to sunburned skin. By the end of the month, he’d developed his own tan.

“So, you have heard no word from your contact on the mainland?” Marisia asked one evening after Vamenco had gone to bed, Daniellex had followed in the sitting pit, and Joscur stood in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner, leaving William and Marisia to stand at a window beside each other looking out onto the street as the blue tint of evening fell like a sheet over Mirage.

“No, nothing yet,” William confirmed. He knew there never would be.

“I am sorry. Baba has mentioned that a civil war is happening on the mainland, have you heard anything about it?” she asked him.

“The war is still in something of a stalemate. From what I’ve heard, none of the royal siblings have made any moves against one another. People seem to be growing apathetic about the whole thing, from what I can tell from people who fill us in at Dragon’s Perch.”

“Perhaps that is a good thing. Maybe they will realize that it is a stupid thing they are doing, set aside their differences, and work with the new emperor instead of against him,” Marisia considered, turning and leaning against the cool stone wall.

“I don’t think it’ll be so easy,” William replied glumly. He’d heard about how violent the Struggle of Succession had been, how sudden and chaotic, with the eldest and youngest siblings fleeing Damocles. This didn’t seem like the type of petty political squabble that would blow over with time.

“Maybe it will, though. People can surprise you.”

“That’s what worries me,” William admitted, leaning his elbows against the window sill and watching as an ornithopter flew by.

“Marisia, I heard about what happened here in Mirage five years ago. The nightly raids,” he said gently. Marisia tensed up at the mention of those horrible times. “Do you think you could tell me about what happened?” He looked at her for an answer.

“I do not wish to speak of it,” she said, pushing off of the wall and heading back towards the sitting area. He nodded his head and looked back out the window.

He would have to stay here again tonight unless Joscur decided to escort him home. There was a curfew in Mirage that began right around sunset.

***

Two days later, William and the crew of the Andros were back out in the Wastes. It was surprising how quiet the ship could be on nights like these when there was no need for the Andros to roar across the sands and could instead cruise at a leisurely pace. Teutna had retired from steering for the evening and was laying on her back with her arms resting on her belly. William was sat at the tip of the ship and staring out into the desert. The night was clear and the sand looked surprisingly blue. The light from the triplet moons made the dunes glitter like stars.

Many of the Andros’ crew had retired below deck but about half remained on deck, talking into the night. They drank from leather flasks cool water about many things, not the least of which being the ongoing war.

“Who do you think deserves the throne?” one of them asked.

“I reckon none of them do,” said another. “Mirage gets on just fine without an emperor, why can the mainland not?”

“Fool, Mirage DOES have an emperor, the same one as the mainland, and the Empire has a council, same as Mirage,” Teutna spoke up without opening her eyes.

“For all the good it does us. We hardly ever hear or deal with mainlanders like you, mum. We might as well be self sufficient!”

“You’re entirely missing the bigger picture,” the captain said with a smile, rolling her head and opening her eyes to smirk at her crew. “That be why you’re a wellerman, I be captain, and they be royalty! They can see more than you, same as me!”

“That right, mum? So what do you see the Empire being good for Mirage, then?” the same crew member asked. He was young. This ship was the most he’d seen of the world.

“Well, let’s see, where to start?” Teutna said, looking up at the night sky. “This job, for start, wouldn’t exist without the Empire, so you’d be out of one.” This simple observation earned some hearty chuckles, even from the young ningen who sparked the conversation. “Those animunculi fellers who tend to that shield, neither of those would be out here were it not for the Empire. Anything we bring from the mainland, probably those natators, clepsydras… pretty sure all of those things wouldn’t be there without imperial help.”

“Most of that is machina from the animunculi, though,” he objected.

“Yeah? And how’d’ya propose to be gettin’ in touch with them metal lads to set it all up without connections to the Empire?” Teutna countered, looking back over at her crew and moving her arms up behind her head. “Face it lad; Mirage would nae be what you know it as without them imperial boys.”

“So who do you think deserves the throne, captain?”

“I canae kin it. Tis well beyond me,” the captain replied, looking over to William who had been quiet and separated from the conversation the whole time. “What say ye, William? Who do you kin belongs on yon imperial seat?”

“I wouldn’t know anything about it, mum,” he confessed without looking back.

She chuckled dryly. “Aye. There’s a good lad, knowin’ his place. We’re wellermen! Ours is not to consider war and emperor’s ways.”

“Suppose we are called to fight, though,” a woman older than William spoke up. “What if the war goes on for years and years, and more than just being wellermen is required?”

“That’s not something to be concerned about now,” William spoke up, turning around and looking at the woman who had spoken. “Such problems of tomorrow are best left for when they arrive, not if.”

“He’s a smart one, innit he?” Teutna said with a somber smile. All were quiet for a precious few moments as each silently considered the possibility of war in their own way.

Teutna would have none of the silence though. Already tired of the feeling of the air being heavy from talks of something that hadn’t even properly happened yet, she pushed herself up to a sitting position and rested her back against the side of the Andros. “’Nough of this. Who’s got a song for your captain?” she asked, looking around at the other sitting crew mates before turning her eyes on William. “William, you’re from my part of the world close enough. Sing us a song – and none of that ‘I cannae sing’ crap. I don’t care if ye be flat as a sword, I wanna hear that pretty voice sing something from home!”

“I don’t know any songs you’d be familiar with,” William said, looking out on the night sands once more.

“So sing what ye know! Captain’s orders!” he insisted, leaning forward and lightly slapping at his foot. Her insistence earned her some murmured agreements from the rest of the crew of the Andros who, like her, were glad of a distraction.

William sighed and looked back at everyone. Any songs he’d know were from a time that none of them had any way of experiencing. He supposed it didn’t matter what he sang. So, after a brief moment of consideration, he turned back and began to sing a song with a somber tone:

There once was a ship that put to sea

The name of the ship was the Billy o’ Tea

The winds blew up, her bow dipped down

O blow, my bully boys, blow!

Soon may the Wellerman come

To bring us sugar and tea and rum

One day when the tonguin’ is done

We’ll take our leave and go!

She’d not been two weeks from shore

When down on her a right whale bore

The captain called all hands and swore

He'd take that whale in tow!

Soon may the Wellerman come

To bring us sugar and tea and rum

One day, when the tonguin' is done

We'll take our leave and go!

Before the boat had hit the water

The whale's tail came up and caught her

All hands to the side, harpooned and fought her

When she dived down low!

Soon may the Wellerman come

To bring us sugar and tea and rum

One day, when the tonguin' is done

We'll take our leave and go!

No line was cut, no whale was freed

The Captain's mind was not of greed

And he belonged to the whaleman's creed

She took that ship in tow!

Soon may the Wellerman come

To bring us sugar and tea and rum

One day, when the tonguin' is done

We'll take our leave and go!

For forty days, or even more

The line went slack, then tight once more

All boats were lost, there were only four

But still that whale did go!

Soon may the Wellerman come

To bring us sugar and tea and rum

One day, when the tonguin' is done

We'll take our leave and go!

As far as I've heard, the fight's still on

The line's not cut and the whale's not gone

The Wellerman makes his regular call

To encourage the Captain, crew, and all!

Soon may the Wellerman come

To bring us sugar and tea and rum

One day, when the tonguin' is done

We'll take our leave and go!

Soon may the Wellerman come

To bring us sugar and tea and rum

One day, when the tonguin' is done

We'll take our leave and go!

When he was finished singing, the mood had shifted considerably on the Andros. Despite the tone of his song of choice, each one of them perked up as they listened to the lyrics, immediately identifying with the song and its subject matter.

“My, that’s an enchanting song,” Teutna commented, clapping her hands together thrice. “Didn’t know that wellermen like us had a song!”

“It is not exactly right though, is it?” one of the crew noted. “Sand sailors do not typically go on water, after all.”

“This is true, and I have never heard of a sand whale that took forty days to subdue. Can you imagine how large it must have been to put up such a fight?” another mused, his imagination aflame.

“That’d be a beastie what set us up for life!” Teutna agreed with a point of her finger. “Where’d you hear such a tune, William?”

“A long time ago, and a place far from here,” William said quietly, turning back out to look at the sands.

“Will ye sing it again? To teach us?” Teutna requested. Truthfully, she just wanted to hear William speak more. This song had been the most she’d heard him say in a single sitting the whole month he’d been on the Adros with her!

“Yes, mum,” William agreed, perfectly willing to let this be a distraction for himself for a little while.