Sithe crouched next to Verlinae, waves of musket fire and spells flew by them. The smell of blood and expended gunpowder mingled to create a unique stench. "Verlinae! Get the book out of here! Remember the mission!" Sithe shouted as Verlinae mourned over a fallen comrade that lay burning on the cobble stone street. Verlinae wiped away a tear from her eye and blood from her temple as she lunged for cover behind a wagon.
She charged into an abandoned sanitarium just as a beam of light zoomed by her, Sithe followed behind quickly. Once they reached the relative safety of the building they headed for a lower floor. Smoke burned their eyes and steam made their breathing labored. Sithe realized his arm was aching, a sharp piercing pain had breached his flak trench coat. He tried to keep running, but felt a snag.
He turned to see his arm attached to a chain, and that chain attached to the end of a musket, someone had hit him with a harpoon. The wave of pain hit him like a bolt of lightning, blood poured from the wound. The weapon had been made to release dangerous prongs to tear into the muscle, it had been designed to twist on impact as well, this weapon was made to destroy the human body. Sithe saw the man standing shrowded in smoke just outside the door. He took a deep breath and muttered the code words for an incinerating curse, normally this would not be permitted, but they were given specific instructions to get the book to safety.
The man started to dissolve in thick black smoke, then burst into silvery flames, dropping the weapon. Verlinae had already made it down the stairs and was shouting for Sithe to come, he ran as fast as he could but the weapon was barbed, and stayed in his arm. The other end kept snagging on fallen bodies and other litter. With a grunt, he wrenched the arrow head from his arm, with a sickening cracking noise, it tore the bone in his joint. Sithe knew he was going to have to lose the arm.
With a dive, Sithe reached the bottom of the stairs and Verlinae slammed the door shut. They panted heavily, examining the dark room. "Sithe, we lost Sam, Adaris, and Smith!" Verlinae screamed, tears streaming down her face. Her thick cloak was torn and singed in many places. Her brilliant blond hair was matted with blood. "Calm down, calm down," Sithe said soothingly. "We need to get the book somewhere else, we're surrounded, give it here," He said, he started to reach forward with his left hand, but the only response was pain.
Sithe grunted from the agony, "Take care of my arm, I'll send the book off," he said. Verlinae reached into her haversack for bandage and began to stop the blood flow. "I think you'll have to lose the arm," she said. Sithe heaved a sigh and took the book from her. Silver letters glimmered on the red page, they read, "The Infinite Tome of Curses."
Sithe focused his remaining energy into finding a safe place for the book, he realized it'd be best to have it go somewhere the enemy wouldn't look, and the first place that came to mind was St. Sophia's Home for Young Children. The book dissolved into glimmering green smoke, it was on it's way to safety.
****************
A pale hand brushed dark hair curly hair aside from his eyes. Craig needed a haircut desperately. His grey and brown school uniform hung limply over his skinny frame, and his boot toes were bursting at the seems. His days at St. Sophia's hadn't been kind to him. He was one of the less fortunate children who weren't here to learn, but to live. Craig was homeless, parentless, and friendless. He resisted the urge to pound the mirror with his fist. Craig left the washroom and headed for his dormitory, the evening light filtered through a grimy window and cast his shadow upon the dark green wallpaper.
"Hey! Are you Jaden? He's got a package," Mr. Dailon said, his grey mustache quivering with every word, and his potbelly heaved with exhaustion. He taught Combative Arts, and it was in the gymnasium at the bottom floor. The top floor wasn't this man's haunt. He preferred to stick to his stinking open space, where he could shout at small children and tell them how inadequate they are at life. "No, I'm Craig," he said, glaring.
"Do you know where Jaden is then?"
"Nope".
Mr. Dailon's face quivered, spittle slinging from his face. "Look you disrespectful little brat! I'll give you five seconds to rephrase that!" he shouted. Craig waited, counting down to three aloud, then replied "No sir! Is that what you wanted? Just in time too!" he glared with his grey eyes. Craig's eyes were so pale, there seemed only a black ring with a darker black core. Mr. Dailon huffed down the old hall, muttering something about learning respect and a bad day tomorrow. Craig headed in the other direction for his room.
It had been a long, hard day. It started with a cruel prank. A letter had been laid by his bed, and the contents said that his birth parents were on their way to pick him up, After he realized that he wasn't dead or dreaming, he figured it was fake. Afterwards he spent three hours taking an exam over the civil war, the most depressing topic ever. It served to remind him that his world could be turned over at any moment.
The Drothnin Fife was one of many fifes that was quickly developing steam technology, devices ran by water alone. These devices made tasks like paving roads and digging ditches far easier and more efficient, leaving the lower classes jobless. This spawned riots by hardworking men and women who had no formal education, with these machines handling their work, they were laid off. They sided with a man by the name of Silos Crowfang, a revolutionist who promised reform. According to some, Crowfang was a necrochemist, a group accused of seeking immortality, to raise the dead, and said to worship the skulls of their enemies.
The upper classes saw hope in steam technology, they viewed it as a means to save lives. With steam technology, they could power a wagon without horses, they could print pamphlets without the effort, and steam technology was also used to develop artificial limbs. Steam symbolized hope for them, they needed it to survive disease and end famine. The two sides didn't have time to work out an agreement though, Crowfang immediately retaliated, he sent his followers off to burning books on steam, destroying factories, and sending his men after scientists.
These thoughts worried Craig. He was concerned that a draft would be instated, or that Crowfang would win the war. He feared he may never get a chance to leave the hell hole he called home, or that if he did leave, it would be to a place even worse, a war torn reality that he reared. Craig hated to think these fearful thoughts. Craig hated his life.
He made his way to his room and saw the faded brass letters that hung from his door. Craig shared his room with two other kids, Jake and Ryan McHaid, Identical twins, and very annoying ones at that. When Craig entered the room, he saw the two standing over a mahogany chest. Brown wrapping paper lay strewn across the floor. "Look! Open it before Craig gets here!" One of the two said, Craig guessed it was Ryan, his voice was more whiny. "Is that mine or something?" Craig asked.
"Yeah, but we won't give it to you!" Jake said, sticking out his tongue and making an obnoxious noise. Craig was taller than the two of them, but he was not an adept fighter. His best option was a diplomatic approach. "If you give it to me I'll open it and let you both see what is inside," He said, grinning. The two whispered to each other, then said, "Since tomorrow is your birthday, we'll let you have it!" They said.
"Deal!"
The two charged Craig with their fists clenched. Craig almost slapped himself on the head, he finally understood their ploy, by it, the meant a beating. In an uncharacteristically thought out move, Craig stepped back and drew the door open, then shoved forward, using it to beat the two back. "You too doofs! Stop playing around!" Craig shouted, he was getting frustrated. This was generally the way his evenings went, except he had never received a package before. Even stranger, it was the day before his birthday. Surely it was coincidence.
This has potential.
Gender:
Points: 652
Reviews: 178