Lovely Day

Frederick sat on the park bench as the sunlight warmed his face. The sounds of children playing and birds chriping arose all around him. His body loosened as the relaxing enviorment overcame his mind like a gentle wave coming onto the shore. He let his eyelids close softly."Freddy!" The soft, high-pitched voice called out.

"Ah, Rosalyn, is that your voice that graces my ears?" He inquired.

"No need to be so formal, Freddy. Are all Brits like that?" She giggled as she sat next to him on the oak bench.

"There are no Brits here, Rosalyn, just as there are no Americans. Arialas is a place of unity, not seperation." He reminded her.

"Oh yes, how could I forget?" She spoke in a mock English accent, "We are all just happy folk, good show! Good show!" She laughed and leaned onto Frederick.

"You're quite the childish spirit, aren't you Rosalyn?" He chuckled softly, patting her brown curly hair.

"Well with everyone here so super-duper serious, someone has to brighten things up!" She giggled.

"Frederick, is that you?" A soft voice called out. Frederick looked up to see Maxwell walking down the path, a wide grin on his face as usual.

"Ah, Maxwell, a pleasure to see you." Frederick tipped his auburn tophat to the young Maxwell, who was no older than twenty.

"I just got my alchemist's license!" Maxwell presented a laminated card identifying his approval to practice the profession.

"Ah, how lovely. We should celebrate with a trip to the Conlis!" Frederick proposed. Rosalyn's eyes lit up with excitement and Maxwell smiled in agreement.

 

 

"Here we are!" Frederick announced with glee as they arrived to the rocky terrain that sprawled just above the cloud layer. Rosalyn ran to the railing that surrounded the park, much like it did all of Arialas, and leaned her torso across it. She giggled as her hands touched the elegant shapes that formed below by the clouds.

"Look Freddy, look!" She shouted as she giggled and pulled her wet hand up.

Maxwell leaned into Frederick, "It must be nice being twelve in this day and age."

"In Arialas, it's nice being any age. Paradise in the sky." Frederick said and placed a hand on Maxwell's shoulder.

"Yeah, well, still. The imagination of a child is an amazing thing." Maxwell chuckled.

"Indeed it is, Maxwell, indeed it is." Frederick reached in his pocket and pulled out the silver fog watch that he carried on him, "Oh dear, it's nearly five. We better be back off before your parents start to worry about you two." 

Maxwell and Rosalyn groaned but followed Frederick with no protest. They walked up the copper stairs back into the central foundation of Airalas. They emerged into the bustling metropolis. Men and women walked through the streets, going about their daily lives. Shop signs lit up and steam shot into the sky above. Airships pushed through the funnels of steam, their propellers shooting the vapor in every direction. "Now, off home you two. You'll be later for dinner." Frederick said, gently pushing Maxwell and Rosalyn.

"Fine, bye Freddy!" Rosalyn said cheerfully as she ran off into the streets.

Maxwell turned to Frederick, "Frederick, why do you live alone?"

Frederick chuckled softly, "I have yet to find the person I wish to spend my life with is all. Why do you-!"

Frederick was cut off by the pressure of Maxwell's lips against his. Frederick hesistate before gently placing his hands on Maxwell's hips and returning the kiss.

Maxwell pulled his head back, "Sorry... I must be going now!" He ran off into the streets.

Frederick chuckled and readjusted his tophat, "Those two..." He trailed off and smiled, "Oh dear me! I've got to get off to home myself. Prepare for the end of another lovely day in Arialas." He whistled as he walked down the street.

 

 

 

The morning light shot through the window and fell upon Maxwell's eyes. He yawned and sat up straight, his blond hair falling over his eyes. He pulled a strand out of his mouth and sighed, "Why did I do that..." He groaned and fell back onto his bed. The door flew open as Made walked in with a tray in her copper hands. Her eyes lit up a bright blue and a speaker was placed where a human's mouth would of been. "Tea, Mr.Linlock?" She inquired, presenting the tray with a ceramic kettle and cup.

"Yeah, set it on the table. I'll be down in a bit." He yawned again.

"Yes sir!" She turned on her wheels and drove into the kitchen. Maxwell stood up out of his bed, his teal sleepwear wrinkled. He stretched and bushed his bangs out of his eyes. He walked to the wardrobe and selected an outfit for the day. He wore a white button-up undershirt with a dark black vest. A pair of brown trousers fell ontop of black sleek shoes. He placed his brass pocket watch in his vest pocket, clipping it on the other one.

He walked down the wooden steps to the kitchen, where Made had set down a cuppa and a breakfast platter consisting of bacon, eggs, and some toast, "Did you fetch the morning paper?" He inquired as he sat down, placing his napkin on his thigh.

"Yes I did, Sir. It seems Princess Lillith will be parading down The Pipelines. Perhaps you could invite Frederick to see the coronation with you?" Made hinted and chuckled softly.

Maxwell's cheeks turned crimson, "He's surely already attending with someone more suited!"

"Oh you'd be good for him," she set down the newspaper infront of him, "and he'd be good for you."

"I do not need dating advice. I presume there is no mail." He inquired as he sipped his morning tea.

"Actually, there was a letter from a Mr.Charles Pollium." She said as she sat the envelope next to his plate.

"I'm sure he is in need of a repair again. Let's see here.." He opened up the envelope and read the parchment, "It seems his Tive has sprung an oil leak. Would you mind fetching me my work bag?" Made zipped off and returned with the brown duffle bag. Maxwell opened the sack. Inside were clutters of herbs and other ingredients, a few empty viles, an elixir rack lined with sparkling liquids of every color of the spectrum, and brewing instruments.

"I'll be gone until around six. Your free to your own affairs." He grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

 

Maxwell stepped out into the narrow street, apartments lined on both sides. He looked up above as steambikes jetted across the sky. Children ran and skipped down the path to the school, the morning commuters made their way to their daily jobs. Airialas was teeming with activity even in these early hours. Street vendors were selling fresh fruits, quick snacks, drinks, newspapers, and other cheap things one may need on the spot. Maxwell purchased a ripe Granny Smith apple and bit into it. He closed his eyes as the sour fruit danced on his taste buds.

He walked down the street, making a turn here and there, as he made his way to Mr.Pollium's house. When he arrived at the apartment, Maxwell saw the broken machine, "Ah, Maxwell, good to see you boy!" The elderly man stood up as he saw Maxwell approach. Charles's hair was a snow white, his teeth were gone for the most part, and he had a noticeable hunch in his back.

"Good morning, Mr.Pollium. What seems to be the problem with Old Myrle?" Maxwell looked at the inactive Tive unit.

"She started spewin' oil like a the 'ol wells!" Charles walked over to the bot, "I ain't lettin' that girl quit on me though, she just need'a tune up."

"Well, I'm sure I have a Sarcio elixir somewhere." Maxwell dug through his bag and pulled out a vile filled with a brown vile. Maxwell walked over to the machine and gently poured the elixir on the brass chasis. The metal bent and moved as the robot began to repair itself. Soon the Tive unit stood up and turned to Charles.

"Would you like some tea, Mr.Pollium?" It inquired.

Charles smiled wide, "I knew you coul' do it Max! She goo' as new!" 

Maxwell chuckled softy, "You need to stop letting her rust. Just send me a write if she breaks down again." Maxwell closed his bag and walked off.

 

 

Rosalyn sat at her desk, her hair in their usual curls. She shot up as the whistle blew, releasing the class to lunch. Rosaly sat down at an octagonal table and sat her lunch box down. She unpacked a PB&J sandwich, a bottle of water, a pudding cup, and a chocolate chip cookie. She smiled as she plunged her teeth into the sandwich. A familiar voice interrupted her meal.

"Hey Rosie!" Benedict called out as he sat next to her, "Mind if I sit with you?"

Rosalyn looked at the boy, he was orriginaly from a land known as Australia and had golden hair, "Sure!"

He smiled with his porcelain white teeth, "I hear you're planning on taking the enchantress path when we get to Uppers." He sipped a warm soup from his Thermo.

"Yea, I have a natural magick pressence. Watch!" She giggled as her eyes lit up with a midnight blue. The water bottle lifted into the air and moved around the table. She gently let it drop as her eyes returned to their normal green.

"Whoa! I've neven seen such advanced telekinesis at our age." He looked at her with absolute awe.

"Oh it's nothing really." She giggled as her cheeks turned a crimson red.

"No, come on no need to be humble. You have a real gift Rosie." The whistle sounded, notifying the students to return to class, "Hey, do you think you could meet me at the Farview today after class?" 

Rosalyn's eyes widened, "Sure! I'll send my mom a write while I'm in my Arcane Arts class!"

"Alright, see you then." He smiled and walked to his class.

 She giggled gleefully and made her way to her own destination.

 

"Alright class, who can tell me the effects of a shockwave discharge?" Ms.Torila looked around the class and saw the singular hand raised, "Rosalyn?"

"A shockwave discharge releases a wave of energy through matter and can stun or even incapacitate an enemy." She smiled wide.

"Very good Rosalyn. Now, I hope you all prepared your demonstrations." The class groaned, "Oh no need to fuss! Magick can be a fun experience if you allow it to be. Now... let's have... Gerald go first."

The boy sighed and stood up, walking to the front of the classroom. His black suit, uniform for boys, was wrinkled and stained. He looked up and allowed his eyes to swirl with a purple energy, "Conspectu Imaginem." He spoke and the class let out a gasp in awe. Their eyes swirled with rainbows, as their world around them morphed between colors.

"Good job Gerald, B plus. Now... how about... Rosalyn!" Ms.Torila looked directly at the young girl.

Rosalyn shakily stood up and walked to the front of the classroom, she had worked on this for months, no way she would mess up. Rosalyn pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked straight forward, the midnight blue swirling in her eyes. The entire class gasped and clung to their desks, as the furniture began to rise into the air. She spun them around a bit, then gently put the desk back in their original locations.

"Very good Rosalyn! A plus, as usual." Ms.Torila smiled.

 

 

Frederick wandered around the park. The fresh air greeted his nose with a calming sensation. He looked around at the utopia. Children were playing, parents were talking, and there was nothing but joy to be seen. He bit his lip as he let his mind wander into deep thought. He was brought back to consciousness by the jerk of a little girl on his sleeve. He looked down and saw Rosalyn grinning, "Hey Freddy!" She giggled.

"Hello Rosalyn. How was school today?" He inquired with a warm smile.

"I got an A plus on my arcane presentation!" She gleamed with pride.

"That's wonderful. Though I'd expect no less from such a talented young lady."

"Anyways.. I better be off before mother starts to wonder where i am. See 'ya Freddy!" She ran off giggling as Frederick waved. A frown fell upon his face. She was so innocent and naive, as were all the residents of Airalas. 

"What a shame..." He spoke softly, "It'll all fall tomorrow..." He sighed and sat down. The ground shook and the sounds of screams traveled through the air. Frederick closed his eyes as he felt the air rushing through his hair. The city began to crash towards the Earth below. It was the Day of Returning.

 

 

 

 

 

The Day of Returning

 Her eyes glew a bright blue as she tried to maintain the protective field around herself. Rosalyn grit her teeth. She looked around as the buildings crumbled, the city's citizens screaming in fear and agony. What happened? Terrorists? She had heard of such monsterous people in her history lesson, before their world below became a wasteland. The Earth. They weren't rising into the Black, but rather falling! She let out a pleading scream. The surface of Earth was a land of fire and death, or at least that's what the teachers told everyone. This was the accepted fact, the reason Arialas existed.

Maxwell gripped onto the railing for dear life. With a free hand he dug around his work bag, "I have one somewhere..." He grunted as he pulled out a silver liquid. He quickly popped the top and consumed the liquid within. His skin turned to a gleaming metal. Maxwell, who was now a statue of iron, fell across the ground. His pathway interrupted by Rosalyn's barrier.

"Maxwell!" She shouted, seeing the metalic body, "Oh you clever boy!" She turned her head as she saw Frederick suspended in the air by a heli-pack. His gaze met hers and his made his way to her.

"Ah, you two are alive!" He smiled, "Good to see some of the youth will see what they took us from."

Rosalyn looked puzzled, "What? You knew about this?!" She shouted.

"Why of course my dear.." He smirked, "I caused it. Let the Day of Returning commence!" He announced as he flew off into the sky, letting the rubble of the copper city fall to the ground.

 

 

 

Rosalyn jerked awake. The old bed creaked under her movement. Sweat dotted her face. Maxwell rose slowly, awoken by her movement, "Another nightmare?" He inquired.

Rosalyn nodded, "I was dreaming of the Day." She sighed, "I still can't see why he would this..."

Maxwell sighed, "Frederick was a madman. Now get ready, we have to make it to Crane by sunset." He stood up and went to prepare himself for the journey.

Rosalyn sighed and made her way to the bathroom. She looked at her face in the cracked mirror, "It's hard to believe it was only a few weeks ago.." She muttered as she put her long hair into a braid. She ran the cold water into her hands and washed her face.

 

When she walked outside, Maxwell was preparing the Riders. The barren dirt around their dwelling spotted no greenery. Rosalyn set her pack on the back of her Rider and strapped it on tight, "How many people can get hurt in a single town?" She sighed as she got onto the leather seat.

"Doctors are rare 'round these days. I'm just glad I can be of service to some people." Maxwell got on his and lowered his goggles.

"I have some trade to do anyways..." Rosalyn lowered her mask, which expanded in a sound of clicks and covered her entire face, "Race you there." She darted off, shooting loose dirt into the sky. Maxwell chuckled and zoomed after her.

 

They Riders jerked as they transitioned from dirt to sand. The deserted land, nicknamed No Man, was once a towering city known as Las Vegas. Rosalyn had read a few books on the Life Before. Ruthless conflicts over land and beliefs, known as wars, forced the Earth to become unfit for their society. She never fully understood why they would say such things when the Earth, as she saw for herself, was full of fertile soil and fresh water. Rosalyn looked up and saw the sun centered above them, noon. She throttled the engine and shot off, beckoning for Maxwell to follow her.

 

By five they reached the Wall. The Wall surrounded a section of the land that used to be known as California. There was a single gate that towered into the sky. Rosalyn and Maxwell came to a hault as they approached the opening, "We need to hurry and get past, Crane is a good hour's ride away." Maxwell said as he stepped off his bike. Two men in skin-tight tactical attire stood by the scanner.

"Why if it isn't the Ol' Doc'." One chuckled, "You know the fee to use the scanner." 

"And when did you vagabonds acomplish official business?" Maxwell looked at the two, "I'm sure the Crown would love to hear about this."

The two men looked at each other, "You little piece of-" The gaurd was cut off by Rosalyn.

"Are all men this utterly useless?" She smirked and held two curved blades, one in each hand. The weapons were attached by a long silver chain.

"Who the Hell do you-" One of the gaurds was stopped by his partner.

"Aye, that's the girl. The one with the eyes." They looked at each other and nodded in a silent agreement. They stepped aside as Rosalyn waved her ID over the scanner. The large doors opened up, "Coming Maxwell?" She said as she hopped on her bike. The two sped off, leaving the gaurds in a trail of dust.

As they road through, they saw settlements. The various housings had various people. They all shared one quality. Hardship. Children starving, people coughing their blood, structures falling. Crime was sewn within every aspect of the new life established by the survivors. Gangs of vagabonds attacked travellers and raided settlements. The government that was set up was weak at best. The Crown was composed of those who acted swiftly and formualted their wealth. They built off the pain of the citizens.

Rosalyn's thoughts were cut off as they arrived in Crane. The town had earned its name from the large crane that rested in the center. Maxwell stepped off his bike and parked it. Rosalyn followed and lifted her mask, "You head to the clinic, I'll find us a place to stay." Maxwell nodded and grabbed his bag, running off into the town.

 

Rosalyn slammed her fist on the counter, "Five-hundred Caps for a damned night?! This is highway robbery!" She shouted, "Without me being here, you wouldn't have the damn high horse you sit upon!"

The man at the desk groaned, "Ma'am, five-hundred is the price. Take it or leave it."

"I'll show you take it.." She smirked as her eyes filled with a midnight blue. Maxwell ran in, "Rosalyn!" He grabbed her by the arm.

 She groaned as her eyes returned to normal. Maxwell looked at the man at the desk, "We'll take the room, kind sir." Maxwell placed a pouch on the counter and the man nodded.

 

Rosalyn collapsed onto the matress, the springs creaking under her weight. A small oil lamp emitted a faint golden glow around the gloomy room. Thin sheets of metal connected by bolts and small support beams seperated the indivisual hotel rooms. Flies buzzed around, barely breaching the bustling sounds of people hard at work. Maxwell emptied his pockets onto the small end table, "You need a job, Rosie.." He spoke softly.

The two had had multiple arguements on the subject, "What the Hell can I do?! Do you want me to go out and sleep with the pigs in the Crown? Arcane arts aren't exactly welcomed talents!" She groaned and sat up on the bed.

"You could be a scavanger. You know how to hold your own in a fight." He sat down and sighed.

Rosalyn looked at him with a face of misbelief, "You're suggesting I go out there?!"

"I don't like it anymore than you do, but we need the money! And scavangers are given free housing." He looked at her with a soft gaze.

"Whatever, I'm going to bed." She groaned and let her body fall into the bed. She closed her eyes and let sleep overcome her body.

 

 

"Frederick, why?!" Rosalyn slammed her fists on the blue orb that contained her. The burning city fell around her as Frederick smiled at his handy work. She saw the burning bodies, hear the screams of agony, smelt the ignited oil. Frederick was replaced with a creature of red skin and a forked tail. Long and leathery wings stretched out of its back. The creature let out a wicked laugh and charged at Rosalyn.

She quickly sat up, sweat covering her forehead. The covers were tossed off the bed and onto the ground, Maxwell slept peacefully in the bed parellel to hers. She looked at the clock and squinted in the faint light. Four-thirty. She stood up and shivered as her bare feet touched the metalic floor.

Rosalyn walked to the bathroom and brushed out her hair. She grabbed a rubberband and put her hair up into a ponytail. Maxwell leaned against the wall, "You look more mature." He spoke and she turned around with a jerk.

"Damn you, you almost gave me a heart attack!" She rushed across the room, trying to hide her crimson cheeks.

 "That's athetlic wear... you're joing up aren't you?" Maxwell looked at her tight clothing with multiple pockets and velcro straps.

"Yeah... I'm joining up with a group of nomadic merchants... You'll be ok, right?" She looked at her with soft eyes.

"I'll be just fine, you be safe. I'm sure we'll run into each other again anyways." He rested a warm and welcome hand on her shoulder, "You're growing up too fast, and I'm sorry about that.. but you're doing good. Now hurry off, nomads leave early." She smiled and hugged Maxwell, before running off outside.

Maxwell smiled and returned to his bed, letting a peaceful slumber replace his consciousness.

 

 

Rosalyn ran up to the group of men and women in dark clothing, "Sorry I took longer than expected." She was panting from running.

"Ah, if it ain't our own Mover!" One of the men smirked and raised a jar of a shimmering clear liquid, "Welcome!" The men and women whooped and hollered. Rosalyn smiled uneasily.

 

 

 

"Maxwell, we need a sedative ASAP!" One of the nurses shouted. Maxwell rushed and handed her a needle with a green liquid inside. The clinic stunk of blood and sweat. Maxwell wore a red-stained white gown. The latex gloves that covered his hands were just as bloody. The scene was horrific. Bodies of injured and helpless flesh whailing in pain. Diseases spreading like a wildfire. Blood covering every inch of the small tent. Supplies were wearing thin, any sedatives were being saved for life-or-death situations. 

Maxwell slammed his palms onto a table, "I need assistance, now!" He shouted at whoever was around to listen. Screaming patients were rushed in one by one. Bullet wounds, stab wounds, cuts, infections, fever. This is what life was now. Arialas had fallen, utopia destroyed. Poverty and death were the foundations of this new society. A dictatorship that did nothing but sap its citizens even more.

 

Rosalyn let the wind blow through her hair. I technically didn't lie... She thought to herself, these guys are scavangers... Rosalyn turned her gaze to the bandits riding beside her. The Crimson Storm.. they were some of the most notorious ravagers known. The stories that were told in fear of them; canabalism, rape, even mutation. Rosalyn bit down on her lip. She was one of them now. It's survival of the fittest.. she told herself. She throttled her bike harder and zoomed off to the front of the group.

 

 

The grass below his boot crumbled with his steps. The wind blew through his short and shaggy hair. A pair of white gloves covered his hands. In his left, his fingers gripped around the handle of an oak cane. Frederick had a smirk, ear to ear. He looked at the sunset, the grave infront of him casting a small shadow across his feet.

Frederick shoved the head of his shovel into the topsoil. He repeated this action, accumulating a small pile of dirt to the side. Sweat started to lace his forehead. He let out a sigh of relief as the shovel hit a solid metalic object. Frederick reached in and pulled with a heave. A brass casket rose out of the ground.

Frederick opened the container and smiled at the corpse inside, "Yes... this will do fine..."

A Tip of the Hat

 Rosalyn jerked awake at the sounds of hollering. She quickly got up and grabbed her backpack. She had slept in her clothes in case of this very occasion. The scouts had returned with the location of a job. She hopped on her steambike as one of the men slowed next to her, "This 'yer first raid ain't it?" He smirked.

"Yeah, that obvious?" She laughed nervously.

"Just make sure ye' keep up and it'll be all golden!" He laughed and zoomed off. Rosalyn follwed behind.

The gang rode in what roughly made out a V, a trail of dust blowing up behind them. A bell rang from a large tower that barely peaked over the horizon. The men whooped and sped up. Rosalyn grit her teeth and gripped the throttle.

They came up on the small settlement and pulled out their rifles. Rosalyn's eyes lit up. She looked to the man towards the center of the gang and he nodded. She exhaled slowly as she began to lift into the air. She flew into the town as the men shot those who resisted. Rosalyn made her way through the town, floating like an angel above the Hell below. She gripped her fists as he advanced through the streets. She lifted up large crates of supplies and made her way back to the convoy. She made this trip multiple times, stacking the crates on the transports.

 

 

Maxwell awoke and sat up slowly, his hair sticking out in every direction. He let out a wide yawn. The sun shot through the window to his small apartment. Maxwell stood up and walked over to the dresser, selecting his outfit for the day.

Once he was dressed, he grabbed his bag and walked out into the city. He made his way to the pharmacy, the sun burning bright over the clear sky. He pushed open the plank that worked as a makeshift door. John smiled, "Morning Maxwell, sleep well?" The man, about Maxwell's age of late twenties, was wiping down the counter. His silver hair fell elegantly over his face, meeting with his pale skin. His eyes were a sharp green, and Maxwell often found himself getting lost in them.

"About as well as you can sleep on old paper." Maxwell joked as he sat his bag on the counter, unpacking viles of elixirs.

"Sometimes, if you focus exceptionally hard, you can almost feel cotton." John chuckled.

"Oh I'd kill for some cotton!" Maxwell sighed as he sat a vile on display.

"While there is no cotton for comfort, perhaps I could show you the surprisingly delicious food that you can get, if you know the right people?" John smiled, his pearl white teeth showing.

Maxwell found his face turning crimson, "Uh.. Yeah that sounds like fun.." He stammered.

John chuckled and placed a hand on Maxwell's shoulder, "How's eight sound?"

Maxwell nodded, "Good..."

John chuckled and went back to his spot at the counter, leaving Maxwell in a daze.

 

Maxwell spent the day crushing herbs and stirring liquids. The store rarely had many customers, but they made enough to keep it running. Maxwell set the remedies and medicines on display as the sunset made its way into the sky. John grabbed his coat and tossed Maxwell the keys, "Lock up when you leave?" Maxwell nodded.

Maxwell grabbed his coat and blew out the lanterns. He closed the doors as he walked out, locking the door. The night air was as cold as the day air was hot. The temperature fluxuated throughout the cycle, burning in the day and freezing in the night.

He looked at his pocket watch, "Better be off to John's..."

 

 

 

Rosalyn sat on the back of a steambike, watching the dust fly up behind her. The wind blasted against her cheeks, only making the cold night are worse. She looked to her driver, his face was hidden by a bulky gas mask. She observed the other bandits, they all bore some form of mask. She lifted her chilled fingers to her cheek, brushing them against the bare and blushed skin.

She was jerked out of thought by the sounds of whooping and hollering. She turned and saw the camp rising over the horizon. As they pulled into the dirt road, she hopped off the bike and dusted herself off. The men were busy at work packing in the score.

Children ran up to Rosalyn, coming up only to her thigh, "Rosalyn! Do you have any stories for us?" They cried.

Rosalyn chuckled and hugged the group, "Of course I do sillies, but first we have to make sure we got what we went for." The children groaned in a unison of disapointment. Rosalyn smiled, "Now go on, it's cold out here." 

A man walked up behind Rosalyn and rested his hand on her shoulder, "Motherly intuition?" His voice was soft and smooth, a Russian accent greeting her ears.

Rosalyn turned and smiled at Art, "Not all bandits are barbarians." 

Art chuckled, "Nor are they as pretty as you." He gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Rosalyn's cheeks turned a bright shade of crimson and she nervously stammered, "Oh.. n-now you're just being n-nice... I'm tough, no need to t-treat me any different."

Art sighed and laughed, "You are different, though. You have remorse... Don't let that go.."

Rosalyn looked at him confused, she'd never seen him show any sign of vulnerability or consideration, "Sure thing.. I gotta go tell a story to the kids..." She ran off, leaving him in the dark of the night, illuminated by the oil lamps in the streets.

 

Rosalyn sat down in the middle of the circle of children. The metal floor was cold to the touch, but they were used to it from several nights spent listening to Rosalyn's tales.

"Now, here we were, riding throug the barren desert, a vortex of dust blowing behind us," Rosalyn spoke with an awe in her voice, the children's eyes lighting up, "I look up and see this towering beam of light shooting into the sky with buildings rising around it. We ride into the strange city and notice roads made of glistening diamonds that reflected the moonlight."

"As we walked through the streets, a man in a crimson red suit walked out and greeted us, 'Welcome to Helios!' he said, with great excitement and a warm smile, 'The City of Great Fortune!'" Rosalyn's eyes glistened with the same whimiscal imagination as the kids she spoke to, "He told us that anyone could get rich doing whatever they wanted here. I stepped up and asked, 'But we cannot live here, for we have children at home and a town of our own!' The man laughed and smiled, 'We'll load up your carriages with food and gems!' The end."

She looked at the children who were smiling widely and cheering. Rosalyn couldn't help but feel tears burning in the back of her eyes as she thought about the truth of how they got their score. She looked at the children, filled with their innocence and childish oblivion. Her heart ached for that iggnorance she once had, unaware of the darkness of her own world.

 

As she made her way to her flat, Art ran up behind her, "Hey Rosie!" He shouted.

Rosalyn turned, "Art, it's late! You'll get frostbite!" She grabbed his hands, warming them with her gloves.

Art panted, a look of worry on his face, "They're after you, you've gotta run!"

Rosalyn cocked her head, "Who?"

Art hesistated, "...The Crown."

Rosalyn's eyes widened, "What?! How? Why?" She began to panic, her head darting in every direction, her breathes short and heavy.

Art grabbed her shoulder, "Calm down, Rosie!" He stroked her cheek gently as she gradually calmed down, "Pack a bag, I can give you a ride to Galton, decent sized city but under the radar."

Rosalyn looked into his eyes, "Thank you..." Without thinking she pressed her lips to his, their body heat melting together. The world around them stopped, the air silent and still, time frozen. A surge of love, happiness and longing filled Rosalyn's heart as she broke the kiss.

Art stared in a daze before shaking his head, "Go get your things."

She nodded, "Right."

 

 

 

Maxwell jerked awake to the sound of motors. He looked out the window and saw a steambike with a trail of dust following behind. He turned his head, seeing the oddly familiar figure on the back. Her hair flew fluidly through the wind with great elegance. He turned and saw John fast asleep. Maxwell silently got dressed and made his way outside where the bike had stopped.

As he walked out, he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Rosalyn, "Rosie!" He ran up to her.

Rosalyn turned around, her eyes wide, "Max?!" They greeted each other in a warm hug. Maxwell stepped back and Rosalyn looked at him, "I forgot this is where you live!" She smiled widely.

"What are you doing back? I thought you had a great gig going for you?" Maxwell turned his head to Art, "Who's this?"

Rosalyn's cheeks reddened, "Oh, that's Art... a friend from work." Art looked at her, and she replied with pleading eyes.

He nodded, "Rosalyn was hoping to move into the city."

She sighed a breath of relief, "Yea, we're heading to Vasp in a bit, stopping for some coal and water."

Maxwell frowned, "So you're not staying?"

Rosalyn looked at him with an apologetic stare, "Sorry Max.. I can't..."

Maxwell looked at Art and saw the familiar tattoo on the man's arm. He grabbed Rosalyn and pushed her towards the house, "Rosie get back! He's with the Dark Cats."

Rosalyn sighed, "Thanks for trying Art..." She stepped around and showed Maxwell her tattoo, the same as Art's.

 

 

 

Impressum

Texte: Brian Duvall
Lektorat: Logan Gillaspie
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 14.01.2015

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Widmung:
I dedicated this work to my close friends for constant inspiration on characters!