So your probably thinking to yourself: Is there going to be a part three? Is the story going to continue after this?
The answer is: Maybe. I didn’t write a third part today (well, physically), which means I may not have the momentum to write a third part. If you are all interested, I might be able to do something about it, but till then, we have an eternity of cliffhanger.
Enjoy!
Flight to Easter Island
I would have rather taken the train. The carriage was going to add nearly a month to my travel, but I couldn’t afford the attention train passengers are given. Our little Berlin problem had blossomed into the New Berlin Empire, and had seized control of the surrounding land. Prince Nigel had fled to Paris, marking the end of the magocracy’s control of Berlin, and there were rumors that General Yreklin had been killed.
Traveling at all was dangerous, but I had to make the move. I was headed toward Casablanca where I would catch a boat to Easter Island. If what Robert said was true in his letter, my suspicions of a link between the passage of Junzt’s Unaussprechlichen Kulten’s description of the Oho-tea architecture, and some unlabeled diagrams in Eibon’s Liber Ivonis were correct. Dangerous as it is, the Oho-tea witchdoctors may be the key to wand-less casting, something that I strived for. I was tired of the crutch the wand had become, I was nothing without it.
I was to transfer to a zeppelin in Lyons, which was still under the power of a magocracy. Within a few days, I would be in Casablanca boarding the St. Maria which would head south, past the horn, and to Easter Island. I will be much more comfortable on the airboat, and only if it was to continue as far as Easter Island, or even the New World. The carriage wasn’t too bad, however. In fact, the seats were quite comfortable, and, despite the rough roads, the ride was smooth and quiet.
The nights were less comfortable. I slept in the carriage, but the seat was much shorter then I was; the result was a dull pain in my back throughout the entirety of the journey. I suppose I couldn’t complain though. It was a far cry better then what would have happened on the train had New Berlin’s soldiers found me.
Before I left I sent several letters, warning my friends in Germanic-Europe to retreat west or south. Sergei Yegorif had gone south to Greece and, before I left, I received a letter of his safe arrival, as well as a drawing of a Greek temple. I was impressed, impressed enough to consider it my new home after my journey, as Berlin was now not safe.
Among the letters I sent was one to Kirin. I mention it only because of its length and importance. I detailed the consequences of not leaving in hopes of persuading her to leave Berlin and spoke of my travel to Casablanca. I wouldn’t dare mention the reason for my journey, save I was traveling to see Roger, an old friend of mine. If I was lucky, Kirin would take the hint and head, at the very least, to Paris.
When I finally reached Lyons, I was eager to escape the wooden carriage that had become my prison. I paid the carriage driver, and headed toward the air-docks. I paused in the city square to look up at the clock that adorned the side of the dock: 7:36. My zeppelin left at 8 o’clock sharp. I hurried into the dock and took the stairs two at a time at first, but I soon out-ran my breath and slowly took the rest one step at a time. I stepped, exhausted, onto the zeppelin. A kind faced man greeted me.
“Good Evening, Sir! Name?”
I smiled. “Fenris. Fenris Mourn.” The man nodded and noted something on his sheet.
“Ticket?”
“Right, Right…” I fumbled through my pockets and produced the small green slip. The man took it and inspected it closely, then nodded again.
“Thank you, Sir, do enjoy the flight.” He gestured me into the cabin, and with a smile, I proceeded inside. I found the first open room and stepped inside. There was room for another passenger, but I hoped no one would take it. I much preferred my privacy.
I set down my bags and hung my hat on the hook by the door. After a spending a moment with the mirror, making sure my hair looked alright, I stepped back out into the hallway and down to the dining room. The dining room was full of bright, young faces, mostly male, who hoped to take a boat across the Atlantic to the New World. Stories of riches and exotic, beautiful women attracted men and boys alike to the New World like moths to a flame. The only empty table was a booth next to the large open window. I approached it suspiciously, since I would have expected a table with such a view would have been taken, but finding nothing wrong, I sat down.
The dining room’s menu was limited, but I was hungry. When the waitress came but a moment later, I was already ready with my order.
“Evening, Hun,” she said with a practiced smile.
“Evening. Could I have the lemon chicken and a glass of water?” She nodded and jotted down my order on a pad.
“What brings you up here, Hun? We don’t see many of your type on here.” I paused at her words and looked up at her again. I had not been expected to be pegged as a mage so quickly, let alone by a waitress.
“Hmm? Oh, um, business.” She didn’t seem completely satisfied with the response, so I quickly changed the topic. “How could you tell?”
“Your eyes. You’re educated, I can tell. Most of the folks we see here aren’t. Gives you right away.” She smiled. I smiled back.
“Well, thank you.” I smiled at her.
“I’ll get your order in.” Her voice was very matter-of-fact, and I nodded before turning toward the window. With a shudder, the zeppelin began to ascend, right on schedule. My window seat gave me a beautiful panoramic view of the French region of Germanic Europe, and I traced with my eyes the extensive rail system the Prince had spent so much installing.
As we began moving away from the city, I turned my eyes down toward the city below. My attention was snatched by a commotion in the street. Grey-clad soldiers were moving into the square in front of the air-dock and, experiencing armed resistant by the red-clad soldiers of the magocracy, were firing rifles. I opened the window slightly, pressing my ear to the opening. The gun shots sounded like insignificant pops. I frowned and looked around the room. The rest of the patrons had begun to notice and were moving to the windows to look down.
The firing continued for several moments before the grey-clad soldiers disappeared inside the air-dock. Although fading pops could still be heard, there was nothing that could be seen in the growing darkness. Suddenly a bright light began to flash atop the air-dock. I scrambled to grab a pencil and paper from my coat, writing down the letters.
-A-F-E-N-R-I-S-A-B-O-A-R-D-?-
I swore quietly under my breath. How did they know I was here? They didn’t know if I had boarded the zeppelin, which was reassuring, but my life now sat in the hands of the Captain. If he reported me on board, they could recall the zeppelin, or worse, blow it out of the sky. The pause seemed to go on for hours, my heart racing. Finally, the response came, reflecting off the dirigible’s envelope.
-N-O-
I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. The answer was unusually short for an official message, but I had the feeling the Captain knew what the soldiers might do if they knew I was aboard. The momentary lapse of anxiety was soon ended by another thought. Had my letter to Kirin been intercepted? Although there was no way New Berlin could send troops to Casablanca fast enough, but the rails would have allowed them to respond even if they intercepted it only a week ago. And what of Kirin? Her address was on the letter! Was she already dead?
I continued to stare out the window as my mind raced, and did not notice when the flames first began to lick the air-dock. Soon, the entire city of Lyons, slowly sinking into the dark horizon, was glowing orange. The frustration of my escape must have made their Lieutenant rash.
When my food came, I paid, but did not eat it. An entire city burnt to ashes, and Kirin… I did not sleep that night, nor for most of the trip. Sitting instead by the window, staring. Not all stories have happy endings, but no one ever expects those stories to be theirs.
Fin! Hope you Enjoyed!
As always, Leave comments below.
Jumble, End Post.
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