Two Burning Worlds

.chapter one.

Upon the sunny shores of Lyre,

Again and again the spectators aspired, 

to touch the tops of the cloudless skies

filled with birds and brilliant jeweled eyes,

but then one day came a cunning fox

who looked at them and began to scoff, 

why are you looking way up high, he asked, 

why don't you look at each other and sigh?

-- 40 G.D. Legends of the Old World: Lyre 

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They forced us to wear the collars when we turned the age of three. 

Since the Council had a list of everyone who was born, alive, and dead kept hidden safe within their inventory, along with any personal information, it was on the birthday of each three-year-old child that the Guard barged in and demanded the toddler to be given to them, promising the parents that their child would be safely returned. 

I don't remember much, but I remember enough to come to the conclusion that the surgery was  intense, involving multiple procedures and careful reconstructions of one of the most vital, yet overlooked organs of our bodies- the neck. Even though at three, surgeries were dangerous and would have most likely resulted in a death in the Old World, our New World technology resulted in a clean, somewhat quick, procedure, and once finished, the presumably healthy toddler was returned to its parents, a shiny metal collar in place of their tiny little necks. 

But no matter how good of a memory someone had, no one could remember how the procedures were done, or how the surgeons had accomplished the impossible. Because the collars themselves weren't just shiny metal necks, they were dangling puppet strings accessing our entire being with just one touch of a button. A simple tap could lead to a person committing suicide, killing their family members, or destroying entire buildings with their own bare hands. 

The Council was quick to mention that none of this would happen of course, given that we all behave properly and do as we were told, but there were still some who did not like this new form of government and had rebelled against their authorities. And boy, did the Council make a fool out of those people. Every time someone tried to lash out and fight against their iron hand of rule, the Council was quick to retaliate to destroy that person's entire life. 

Those people were never seen again. Those people included my mother. 

*** 

"Z-ed, sweetheart." 

I gently opened my eyes, envisioning my mother's kindly figure smiling down at me in a halo of light. Instead, I woke up to see an old lady glaring down at me with eyes that could kill. 

"Sweetheart." She drew the 'heart' out real slow, her raspy voice grinding in my ears like an Old World cheese grater. "It's ten past five." 

With a groan, I hoisted myself up out of bed and looked around with bleary eyes. The Underground never had any windows, so it was no use checking behind the decorative velvet curtains draped across one end of the room. 

Madame Crane always expected us to respond when she spoke to us, so I gave her a raspy, "yes, yes I'm up," before shoving on my slippers perched at the side of my bed. The old woman shot me another glare before trotting off to abuse other late wakers, her grey apron fluttering about her like the wings of her namesake. 

With a sigh, I stumbled over the forty plus feet towards my thirty foot wardrobe.

 Yes, I had a thirty-foot wardrobe. And yes, my room was over forty feet wide. 

Z-ed, you'd say, you're one lucky guy to be sitting in a nice large room, with a wardrobe that big, and a bed so comfy it's impossible to get up from. 

Yeah no. I'd rather be in a hovel, if only it meant being with my mom. 

I pushed any stray thoughts about my mother out of my head and stood in front of the large doors leading to my wardrobe. A second later, and a beep resounded in my ears, the doors disappearing to reveal a long hallway with clothes for every occasion imaginable lined up in orderly fashion. 

I spared nothing a glance, and picked the first clothing in sight and tottered back out of the closet fully dressed and headed towards the mirror to look at my assemble. 

Having always been told I was handsome by other people when the Guard wasn't looking, I quickly learned at an early age that I was better looking than average. Except for the untidy mop sitting like a rat's nest at the top of my head. Groaning in frustration, I combed my fingers through my unruly black hair, which only made it fall into my eyes even more. Madame Crane would kill me. 

With a sigh, I sprinted towards the desk sitting at one edge of the room and nabbed a pair of holographic scissors, programming them to cut only hair. As the scissors sawed away at the tangled mess, I adjusted my navy hoodie, fixed on my bright green earpiece, and polished my collar with the hoodie's sleeve. Instead of the shiny metal it had been before, it was now a dull bronze, as with everyone's as they aged. It seemed as if the metal aged with the person. 

A sudden pounding at the door alerted me of the time, and without looking in the mirror for the last time, I sped towards the door, shoved it open, and ran past the surprised looking robot who had just raised another metal fist to knock on the door again. 

Sweat was beading on my upper lip as I finally slumped into my seat for class, quickly inserting the virtual classroom code and closing my eyes.

"Z, did you get a new haircut?" An amused voice asked. 

I opened my eyes to find a blonde boy with bright blue eyes staring at me with a smirk on his face. Fe-dex. The fact that he had been named after an Old World shipping company disgruntled him, so we all just referred to him as Dex. 

"Yes, Dex, I did," I shot back at him, casually ruffling my hair to prove my point. To my horror, I found that the scissors had done an extensive cut, to the point where my hair was so short it was half an inch from my scalp. Swallowing my pain, I added, "wanted to try something new, you know?" 

Dex grinned. "Sure is something new alright." 

I slapped him on the back. "Oh shuddup. You're just not brave enough." 

I looked around to see where the classroom was this time. Instead of the waterfall like the previous class had been at, this one was in the middle of a forest, the Old World sights and smells filling my senses and making them go haywire. The smell of pine trees, the sound of birds' melodic chirping paired with the warbling of a distant brook made me wish for a world that had been but would never be. Because even if this had all been crafted to model what the world had been like before the Great War, it would never be the same. 

"Z." Dex's finger poked at my back. "The Teach is staring at you." 

I immediately swung myself around to find the entire classroom seated on the forest floor and looking at me with annoyed, yet resigned eyes. It wasn't the first time I'd been late to class. 

"Z-ed. Sit down." Teacher Duncan's steel grey eyes started at me, and his face was completely expressionless. I gulped. Every time that man looked at me, it felt as if his gaze was penetrating into my very soul. 

"Yes sir." I carefully sat down where I was and leaned back casually, ignoring my classmates stares over my new look. 

"Now that Z-ed has been so kind to join us, let's begin the lesson for today. Please repeat the Universal Coda after me. I am easily controlled, easily contained, and I can make no difference in this world."