QuiteTheSlacker
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Chapter 80: Mechanical Witchery
🕑 Added 2024-10-01 00:27:30 +0000 UTC“All my life, I have been exposed to the dark underbelly hidden beneath this nation’s surface. The Caelum Luxanne remembers is one of community - one filled with light - but that light is and always has been deceitful. It only serves to veil the scum hiding in the shadows.
“She has never witnessed it—the agony of the trodden. Luxmi, that fool of a woman, always did coddle her. She shielded her eyes from all that was filthy, from the dregs dying on the streets and the depravity wrought on those far too undeserving, but I am different. I will show Luxanne the very worst of human nature. I will make her learn to hate, and only then will she grow up and see the world for what it truly is.
“An emotional ruler will never succeed in creating a just society. No, one must be pragmatic, or else they shall suffer a grim fate—torn apart by the evils of man.”
Grand General Xeros, Ruler of Nox Caelum
———
Xeros
For better or worse, Xeros can never escape this ash-covered heap. He is chained to it, bound to it, and even if he is to flee off into distant horizons, his heart will always remain here: stuck in a land that has only ever brought him misery.
It is like a curse. He despises this nation more than any other, and yet he can never let it go. Why does he still stay here when all those he has sworn to protect are gone? Xeros has achieved his vengeance; the magnates leeching onto this nation have long been purged. And yet, a puzzling attachment prevents him from departing this life. Whether in death there be Cosmos’s paradise or oblivion, he cares not so long as this decades-old exhaustion finally comes to an end.
Alas, the man has much left to do.
To unite all under a singular banner… he has suffered much for the sake of Luxmi’s dream. He does not know why that woman’s sought after such grand ideals with so frail a heart. There shall never exist a fool more selfish than her, perishing only to pass on her burdens to the next sorry soul.
Hm. The anniversary of her death soon approaches. Is that why I am so grim as of late? The scowl on my face has softened—my wrinkles sink ever deeper. I truly am growing old.
Perhaps he shall visit her later.
“Grand General, we’ve arrived.” Xeros’s musings are interrupted by his surly disciple, and he looks up to find themselves in front of the city’ edge. There, but a few paces away, a hefty lift waits to be boarded, its system of gears and rustling chains leading all the way to the very top of the ringed layers. “We shall begin departure in just a moment.”
It is a convenient transportation system for a city this large, but Xeros has other plans in mind. Though he oft monitors the nation from the comfort of his spire, there is value in trudging amongst the populace every once in a while; yes, an inspection is in order—what better to gauge the people’s reaction towards his long absence?
“Do load the transport, but I shall traverse on foot from here on out,” he says, descending the deck and briskly walking towards the first gate.
She nervously follows after him; the Grand General needs not even look at the girl to feel her hesitation exuding without restraint. Does she believe him to have a momentary fancy for slaughter? That is quite the overreaction. He is not Libevich; Xeros has worked hard to maintain his image of authority over the years, but he doesn’t maim unless the situation calls for it. Luxanne’s view of him is quite harsh.
“… But sir, what of the smog?” she asks, putting forth her best to conjure an excuse.
To that, the man only chuckles. “Luxanne, this baleful air has long infected my lungs since before even your own birth. There is no escaping it even if I am to leave the city.”
She appears confused, but that is to be expected. Xeros has raised her away from the smog before it could irreversibly affect her body, but for the common person, such conditions are only natural. Even the corrupt insects of before could only wear respirators in the hopes of staving off the muck.
Except for Libevich. Strangely enough, even though that woman has been exposed to the smog far longer than Xeros, she does not seem to be affected by its burden. He does not think much of it, however; common sense shouldn’t be applied to monsters in the first place.
“Please excuse my ignorance, but then why do you visit the lower layers so rarely?” she asks.
“Because I do not like to have it seen before my eyes.” It brings back unpleasant memories for him, but such hesitation must not be allowed to hold oneself back from their duties.
“I see… then allow me to at least accompany you.”
It is evident what the girl is afraid of, but he does not mind. Someday, she too will have to conduct surveys such as these.
“So be it.” He gestures towards the city. “Lead the way.”
Luxanne quickly takes point and orders for a few guards to serve as their escort, but Xeros dismisses them. “No, we shall go alone.”
“But your safety, sir,” she objects with false concern.
“What am I to be afraid of when in your company? I trust you shall perform your task well.”
She pauses, and the Grand General can practically see the gears turning in her brain. The girl is thinking much too deeply; he simply wishes to go on a little stroll.
“… Very well. I shall act according to your order.”
With a final confirmation to the surrounding personnel, the two set off towards the city and their first destination: a place that bears hostility for him unlike any other, where the bottom of society resides.
They shall begin at the Slums.
———
Xeros
“Entering the Slums,” Luxanne announces, and the two step foot into a wasteland of rubbish and discarded scrap.
A grey liquid sloshes beneath his boots. The smell in the air is rancid, burning the nostrils with what can only be described as an assault of smoke and urine, and dirty hovels sprawl endlessly before their sight. The bases are composed of metal slabs and torn fabric, serving as shelters for the miserable dregs in this land, but to call such a thing a home would be a disservice to all those that call themselves craftsmen.
No, they are but crude, haphazardly assembled pieces assembled with not a consideration for utility. The roofs are flat; the walls are poorly insulated; and not a single attempt has been made to level the foundation.
Everything is terribly amateurish, and what irritates the Grand General most is that many of these problems can be fixed quite simply. Straw and mud are in no short supply; layering the enclosure can both serve to protect against the cold and is easily replaceable—no need to worry about the metal rusting. It is not difficult to do.
But he supposes if these people were to actually use their heads, then they would not be here in the first place. How dreadfully familiar this sight is.
“It has been some time since my last visit, yet not much has changed,” he says. It would be a lie to say he is disappointed, for such grievances can only arise if one has expectations to begin with.
Soon the Slum’s inhabitants begin to emerge from their dwellings, and they glare at Xeros with a fury that could pierce through steel. Here he is - the source of all their misery - yet the cowardly fools dare not to make even a single move.
Still, their hate can be troubling if left to fester. A cornered beast will inevitably lash out, but what if such a point is to never arrive? Maintaining the balance between fear and admiration is a ruler’s duty, and fortunately, there is one tactic that never fails in sowing doubt amongst the masses.
Kindness.
“Hm? Now what is this…”
Out of the corner of his vision, Xeros spots a little girl peeking at him. Unlike the dregs about, her eyes shine with a clear innocence: a curiosity unfitting of this sordid domain.
A jewel in a land where only dull stones remain. Yes, she shall do nicely.
He walks over to the child, slowly so as to not alarm her. Luxanne carefully gauges his every move, but she needs not fear; in fact, this girl shall receive what every soul here desires in their heart.
“Hello there, little one,” he says. The child trembles a bit from his presence, but her curiosity wins over caution. “Tell me, what is your name?”
“U-Um,” she stammers, nervously fidgeting with a filthy stuffed bear in her hands.
“Ho ho, relax girl. Take a deep breath. Continue when you are ready.”
She takes a couple gulp-fulls of air, and then faces him directly without fear. “I’m Lilac, but who’re you mister?”
“Well, I am just an old man,” he chuckles. “Lilac… that is a very nice name. Tell me Lilac, do you enjoy being here?”
The child responds not a second later. “Yep! It’s fun. The misters and missus’ play with me when I’m bored, and Sarah always gets me food when I’m hungry.”
“Is Sarah your mother?”
“No. Apparently my mom didn’t want me so Sarah picked me up instead.”
“Oh, you poor child. Why would a mother possibly abandon such a darling girl like you?”
“I dunno. Sarah said I was this big—” she says, cupping her hands into a little ball. “—when she found me. I think it’s because of my leg.”
She lifts her leg as to demonstrate, and it falls onto the ground with a limp. It is a rare thing to be born lame, but not unheard of. The Grand General has seen many like her in his youth, and oftentimes their fate has never been so kind.
That is why he has strictly forbidden it: abandoning one’s child—no matter what abnormality or physical condition they may have.
The pursuit of skill is not dependent on one’s body, but Xeros understands why such situations may occur. Children are a blank slate, belonging to no specific layer, and having one’s kin excel and rise to a higher status allows the parent to benefit from their success—provided they have received enough love for them to care about filial duty afterwards.
Unfortunately, there is a certain stigma - one that predates even his own time - that implies a faulty child to be the byproduct of a faulty parent. The adults are treated with disdain, so if therein lies the possibility of such humiliation, then they would rather remove the risk altogether.
Outdated drivel. It is quite the shame, but Xeros has taken measures to ensure such behavior goes not unpunished. All births in this nation are strictly documented, filed, and routinely monitored to prevent these types of situations. If the parent fails to adequately explain the reason for a child’s disappearance… well, he reckons Lilac’s parents have already long left this world. But she does not need to know that.
“I see… children are ever precious, and for you to befall such a tragedy at so tender an age—it deeply saddens me,” Xeros says, kneeling down and letting his attire dirty. “Say, what would you do if your leg were to be healed?”
“Healed?” she asks curiously, as if the thought has never come to mind. “Um, oh! I know! I want to run. I’ve never done it before, but I see other people do it all the time and I want to do it too.”
“How innocent.” He smiles. “Then let me fulfill that dream of yours.”
Xeros turns around and searches for nearby scrap. It has been an age since he has personally dirtied his hands with craft, but instinct tends to persist no matter how much time passes. His skills have not rusted quite yet, and soon, fragments of metal quickly assemble into a new invention.
Luxanne appears rather perplexed watching him, as are the other Slum dwellers. Here lies the highest authority in the land, busying himself with common labor. A most peculiar sight it must be, but peculiarity is stronger than loathing. He can see their hatred faltering; everything is going as planned.
Eventually, Xeros finishes his creation and holds out a leg-shaped mold for all to see. He presents the device to the little girl and gestures for her to try it on.
“Now, place your leg in this little casing here as if you were putting on a shoe,” he says.
“Okay!” she does as he says, and the device lights up with a faint glow.
“How is it? Is there any pain?”
“Nope! But I do feel a little funny though. It tickles.”
“Ho ho, that must mean it is working. Give it a go. You do not have to try hard; it should be a gentle process.”
Lilac does not seem to be all too convinced; however, she listens anyway and attempts to walk. The machine roars to life no sooner after she raises her leg, and the girl slips backwards out of fright… but her new prosthetic catches her fall, planting firmly onto the ground.
“W-Wha, huh!?” she stammers, marveling at her new range of movement. She stomps and jumps, twirls and laughs. For the common person, such things are only natural.
But for her, it must be as if a whole new world has just revealed itself.
Xeros pats the child’s shoulder and points to the distance. “Now, how about you test out that new leg of yours? Go on. There is nothing left to stop you.”
Lilac tentatively takes a step forward. Then another, and another, and another, until eventually she breaks out into a full sprint and dashes around the scrapyard. She skips, she leaps, she soars, and she yells out in glee as tears flow down her tiny face. The Slum residents look on with awe as the little girl finally experiences the joy of a normal body.
After a while, she uses her current agility to crash straight into Xeros’s arms, sending the two tumbling onto the hearty dirt.
“T-Thank you,” she blubbers, smearing his robe in snot.
“You are very welcome, my dear,” he says, gently comforting her in-between her sobs. “Children should never be forced to endure such hardship. Remember, as long as you remain steadfast in your will and devote your everything towards improving yourself, then nothing is impossible.”
Xeros picks her up with a hearty laugh and sets her on his shoulders. “Come, Lilac. I shall lead you to a place free of hunger and poverty. There, all you need concern yourself with is learning whatever you wish.”
“Really?” she squirms excitedly at the thought, but her voice suddenly turns sad. “Um… what about Sarah and everyone else? I don’t want to leave them.”
“Do not worry. You can visit them whenever you wish in your free time. This is not goodbye for any of you, but rather a new beginning.”
“Yay! You’re really, really nice. Like a snugly grandpa.”
“I am glad you think that way.”
The two share a giggle, and the Slums fill with a merry atmosphere as the dregs line about to congratulate the girl on her new opportunity. Everyone is so very joyous.
Everyone, except Luxanne.
