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Engines of Obsession: Volume I Epilogue
🕑 Added 2025-10-03 04:37:53 +0000 UTCVolume I Epilogue
Byron folded his hands together and looked at Turner as the door closed, leaving him alone with only Turner and Nikandros in the room.
Turner glanced at the butler, then cleared his throat apologetically.
“I’m very sorry, sir, but I really think this should be something that just the two of us talk about. It won’t take long.”
Nikandros frowned, but Byron made a gesture, waving him off.
“Really, don’t take offense, Nikandros. I don’t think Mr. Turner intends anything nefarious, considering his current position. I’ll hear what he has to say.”
Nikandros grimaced, but nodded his head and stepped out through the side door.
Turner let out a breath and took a seat again, keeping his voice slow.
“Lord Byron… can you describe to me what it is that I did to become the Hero of Durocor?”
Byron raised one eyebrow, then shrugged.
“Well, I was not there. But as I understand it, you bravely faced down the rampaging creature, and when the guardsmen failed to hit the weak point you pointed out, you took your revolver, lined up a shot, and fired.
"The resulting explosion knocked you senseless and required the guardsmen to drag you out of the way of the collapsing construct. It was a very lucky shot… or very precise. They’re still arguing exactly how good of a shot you are.
"But the fact remains… you stopped it, when no one else did. Or could.”
Turner nodded along with the narration. Then he lifted a finger.
“There’s just one problem,” he said to Byron. “After I recovered my wits… I retrieved my revolver. All six chambers were still loaded.”
He reached into his jacket and produced the letter that had landed on him in the form of a bird earlier. He passed it over to Byron, explaining:
“And I received this, shortly before I went to face down the construct.”
Turner already knew what the letter said. It was a very simple message. All it stated was:
“I give you the reward of a hero. —AB”
Byron frowned as he read this, then passed it back to Turner.
“Do you think she arranged her own creation to explode the moment you did something like that?”
Turner sat back and sighed. “Not just that. I think she performed some kind of witchcraft to make everyone think I took the shot… when I never even got to. We know she has some kind of magical ability, or something that can alter perceptions. She must’ve used that to make everyone think I’m the one who destroyed it.”
Byron drummed the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully, staring at Turner. Then he asked, “I fail to see what the problem is here.”
That made Turner look up in surprise, then frown.
“Well… everyone is praising me over something I didn’t do. I don’t have any amazing ability to take down something like that. This entire new surge in interest – in adventuring and exploring – I can’t say I’m upset at it, but it’s all based on a lie.”
Byron sighed heavily. “I have two things to bring up to you, Turner. One… you may not think of yourself as a hero. But the fact remains: you pursued this when no other person could or would, in spite of the danger.”
The man gestured out the window. “And when the construct was rampaging, you made a choice – a deal, even – and you refused to take your revenge just so you could make an attempt to keep the city safe.”
He lowered a finger to point at Turner's chest. “Nobody else knows this… but it’s something you did.”
“And although you were paid, I suppose, the reward didn’t seem to be the main reason. At least not to me. Am I wrong?”
Reluctantly, Turner shook his head.
Byron nodded, then resumed, placing the points of his index fingers together as he rested them against his lips in thought.
“Not only that, but despite the danger, you did in fact rush to help the guardsmen. You did attempt to help take down that monstrosity… not only seeing it was dangerous, but knowing from prior experience exactly how unstoppable they were. You yourself said it should’ve taken artillery to take down something like that.”
Turner nodded silently, still unsure where Byron was going with this.
“You see, Mr. Turner… when it comes down to it, you did perform some very heroic acts… from a certain point of view. They aren’t the act that everyone credits you with… but they are there. And you did do them. You may not see yourself as a hero… but many people would.”
Byron lowered his hands and let out another sigh.
“And then, of course, there’s the second thing. In the time it took you to recover, the story had already spread. Everyone’s held you up as a hero—because after the horror they saw, that’s what they needed.”
He spread his hands upward. “You became a symbol. Because you were there, at the right place, at the right time.”
“Turner… you aren’t a bad person. You’re distant. Sometimes blunt. And you tend not to engage with the public. But in this situation, they just see that as mysterious. You may not like the public eye that’s been brought upon you—but it is what the public needs.
“And the fact that it’s based upon a lie…” He trailed off, then sighed again.
“When you know the truth, but the world needs the legend...
You tell the legend.”
