It Begins.
Today was the day.
Lewis shut the door behind him, grunting with the effort it took to use the rusted brass hinges. The door closed with a feeble click, and Lewis was alone. He inhaled a mote of dust and coughed, placing his satchel on a small stand by the door.
Lewis flicked a rusted switch on the wall. Amvoltic current surged through the ceiling light, and Lewis’ apartment was bathed in a dull glow. The front room was sparsely decorated, and piles of books littered the floor. Lewis walked over to a window on the far side of the room, stubbing his toe on a stray tome and cursing.
The clouds hung low over downtown Skyr. Three storeys below Lewis, the city came to life. Street vendors, scattered across Falcon Court, displayed their wares proudly, in the hopes of making a profit. Lewis spotted a clothing vendor from which he had bought a pair of wool mittens only minutes before. Steam-powered carriages zipped through the crowd of people, giving birth to clouds of gas that permeated the narrow spaces between buildings.
The noise from the street was audible even through sealed glass, the shouting and arguing and general chatter of city life. The sound of laughter was noticeably absent, a sound that seemed less familiar by the day.
Above Lewis towered skyscrapers from all sides. Skyr, thought Lewis, seemed to grow higher with every new year that passed. The trend was upwards, and height meant power. The architecture of the apartments on the east side of the city where Lewis lived was a mishmash of what happened to be popular at the time. No single style dominated; rather, remnants of every era were glued together in a way that was uniquely Libennian.
Dozens of bridges were strung between buildings, criss-crossing the air above the street like a spider’s web. The routes spanned the gap and functioned as above-ground pathways, built to alleviate the city’s overcrowding issue. Lewis watched as civilians marched back and forth across the bridges, hundreds of feet above the ground, not giving a second thought to the incredibly complex network that was Skyr.
And high into the sky, higher than even the tallest building in Skyr, the airspace bustled with activity. Lewis craned his neck to see the space above, and even as the skyscrapers reduced his view to a sliver, he could still see dozens of gliders and airships cruising above the city.
The chiming of the grandfather clock in Lewis’ bedroom reminded him of the task at hand. The clock struck twelve, and Lewis knew that his guests would be arriving shortly. Wiping away the sweat on his forehead, he set out to make his apartment as presentable as possible.
As Lewis cleaned, a sense of overwhelming anxiety and helplessness set in. These weren’t unusual feelings, but they were no less unpleasant when they came. The incredible task ahead of Lewis hung over him, heavy and burdening, weighing him down. He was afraid, desperately so, of the struggle that would inevitably come.
Lewis reached his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the object inside. He ran his fingers over the smooth, glossy surface of the pyramid-like object, feeling the notches and grooves etched into the machine. Lewis slowed the pace of his breath. Help was on the way, he thought to himself. Soon, the men and women that would help make his dream a reality would walk through his front door.
And then the journey could begin.
