Chapter 3.1: A Prodigy and A Warrior

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Note from the author: Esilea and Icarus finally come in! Whadya think? The character guide has been updated appropriately. The song this chapter was inspired by, "Living in Pain" by the band SiM, is not available on YouTube. It is the second song in the following link on DailyMotion. You can find it on DailyMotion here: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x38ioi7

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Part 1

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Dry grass and gravel crunch underneath my feet with each step I take. The familiar scent of lemons wafts from my skin, mixing with the salt in the air. I showered just to get stink and dirt all over me again. Of course.

I pull the hood of my cloak closer to my face as the wind picks up. Nights by the ocean are always freezing. Naiomi tells me I'm just "temperature sensitive". What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I dig into one of my pockets and pull out a box of matches, my frigid hands trembling. This time I remembered matches! A small flame sparks into life. I wince, sucking in a quick breath; it's just a small flame, a tiny little thing. Get a grip Namonai, gods. I quickly stuff the matches back into my pocket and hang my head in the dim light, swearing softly. My weapons. I forgot to buy new weapons.

I tilt my head back and let out a long sigh, the steam of my breath curling from under the edges of my mask. This far from the city, you can actually see the stars. Most cosmic wanderers that end up in Legend Land babble about the beauty of our double moons, but me, I like the stars. They're never the same to the untrained eye, but if you look closely enough, they'll guide you, through and through. Breathing deeply, I let out another sigh, then begin walking again, dropping the used match, and lighting another one, not giving myself time to think about it. I pull the second half of the map out of my pocket and look it over.

"Should be close now," I whisper to myself, picking up the pace to get some warmth back into my toes. "Why can't anything be close to the city? Is that too much to ask?" A soft clicking rustles through the dry grass with the wind, the tall stalks swaying. I blow out the match, putting the map away, reach down to my belt. Right. No weapons. The clicking gets louder while I back towards the sound of the rocking ocean waves. Ah, hell.

I duck at the sound of an earsplitting shriek. Within the same movement I've twisted, hearing the collision of metal on stone. Daedalus' workshop is made out of stone. I found it! The clicking grows in frequency and I drop into a low crouch; right, unknown killer enemy. Focus.

I ignite a match while the creature circles me, illuminating my adversary. A large, rusted, metal body gleams for a moment, an orgy of legs splitting out from the round body, innumerable eyes flickering red, pincers clicking. A giant metal spider? Oh, wonderful.

I rush forward while the creature is reared up, stunned by the light. I slam my shoulder into its body. I nearly bounce off, but dig my heels in the ground, toppling it over onto its back. The automaton hisses and shrieks, legs flailing in the air, the tips looking to be sharp as knives. Why can't this be easy?

Before it can right itself, I snatch one of its legs with both hands, dragging it closer to the cliff edge, muttering the whole way.

"This day and its troubles, it just never ends. Robots, again? Are you kidding me?" The spider shrieks from behind me and I look over my shoulder for a brief moment. "Shut up!" I snap, tugging harder on the leg. The rusty metal of its back scrapes up grass and loose rock, mixing with the crashing waves; they all echo in thunderous harmony. The spider starts struggling in earnest, right before I heave it over the cliff and into the vast ocean. The tips of its legs try to find purchase in the cliff side, to no avail. I dust my hands off, running them along the wall until I find the door, pushing against it. Slowly, it creaks open, causing dust to rise up into the air. The door to a guarded facility unlocked? That's never a good sign.

When I close the door and light a match, I'm tempted to turn back and forget I ever found this place. Several ferocious looking automatons have been torn apart. Severed robot saw-hands are scattered about. Gears and scrap metal with scorched edges clutter the hall. Metal crossbow bolts stick out of empty eye sockets, while I kick my way deeper into the workshop.

A soft whoosh is the only warning I get. Instinctively, I drop to my back. Giant blades crisscross where my head had been just a moment before, then grind to a stop mid-swing. I slowly stand, touching one of the decaying blade handles. The whole contraption gives a slight shake. My hand snaps back quickly, and I weave my way through the blades; this whole place is falling apart. Why is it still on the map? It doesn't look like anyone has lived here for years.

My steps echo through the metal halls, and starlight sprinkles the dark hall with flecks of light. I crane my head up while I walk, noticing the pinprick holes in the thick walls and roof. I don't want to know what was powerful enough to knock holes into here.

For one second, I almost let myself relax. The next thing I know, the floor starts to disappear beneath me.

I pump my legs, racing down the hall. I am not getting trapped in some underground beast pit, no sir! The floor jerks to a stop, knocking me off my feet. I slide along the smooth metal, slapping my hands down to stop myself from skidding any further. With a sharp squeak I lurch to a halt, my face poised over a dark gap between two spaces of the floor. It looks like it was designed to open all the way, but fortunately for me, it too is malfunctioning. I quickly backpedal as a slimy purple tentacle shoots out from the gap, wriggling around. Nope! Nopenopenope! I race past, jumping over the small gap, backing out of the reach of the tentacle. No. No tentacles.

Finally, I make it to the opposite end of the workshop. A shattered glass window the length of the wall overlooks the black sea and rocks below, the only light being the twin moons above. Papers are scattered about what once must have been an organized room. Inventions, halfway finished, lay wasting away on large tables. Random tools and equipment dot the floor and gently sway on the walls.

Suddenly, my head is slammed against the metal wall, my world reeling. I throw up my hands, staggering back, to catch the shin of my assailant. I try to wrap my hands around, but they pull back. I'm thrown across the room before I can even feel their hands on me. I land with a painful thud, turning it into a roll backwards. On instinct, I roll to the left, hearing the sharp clack of an arrow on the wall. Archers, again? A boot catches me in the side, kicking me across the floor. I roll out of the way, the glimmer of a broad blade scraping the floor where I was. Nope, not archers. My feet shoot out, intending to trip my attacker, but they jump, landing with their full weight on me. I scramble underneath them while they try to skewer me. The blade grows closer to my face, nearly touching my mask. My hands grip at them frantically while I shake and writhe underneath them. They remain steady, breathing slowly. Oh gods, I'm going to die.


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Inspired by: "Living in Pain" by SiM

A bit more action here in chapter 3, but still dialogue heavy. What do you think of Icarus and Esilea? Have a favorite character yet?  Comment and let me know! Also, anyone who cringed when the tentacle came in, good for you. This story will not go in that direction, don't worry. Somehow, hang on 'til next week for chapter 4!

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Beta Readers/Editors:

Alyssa Clark

Elizabeth Foran

Mandy Barfield

Jordan Thacker

Raiden Jackson

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