A Tainted Story

2: Delivery

The facade of the Lodestone faced a stone-lined road, the dark wood of the place standing out amongst the rest of the buildings along the street. The seamless feel of the cobblestones and the impressive architecture of the many shops gave the place a profitable, successful atmosphere. It was hard to imagine that the village was surrounded by wilderness for miles.

Hannah waved to a man across the street. He returned the gesture, lifting a bag of bread he had clutched. They watched him leave the bakery, the smell of the place forcing their attention to linger.

     "Remind me later, Hannah, to get some pastries from Simmon's."

    Hannah nodded agreeably, but her view had shifted, her eyes drifting towards a source of commotion further down the street. People moved out of the way for a steaming hulk as it stomped its way down the path. Idly, she watched it stop at the tailor's, then the tavern, before finally parking itself in front of the bakery. The strider turned around with a grinding halt, and Hannah got a good look at the vehicle.

As far as models go, the strider was a pretty standard build. It had metal plating running across the body of the contraption. They formed a sort of oblong carapace in which a driver could be seen, his head poking out the top, although this particular strider had enough room in the cockpit for maybe one or two more people. A pane of glass shielded the driver's face, but the man still wore goggles.

Lower down, the plating gave way, exposing the legs of the strider. Hannah watched as steam hissed from crannies within the strider's mechanical joints. Only her experience as a mechanic allowed her to recognize the source as hydraulics.

The sleek materials sought to give the strider an air of sophistication, but it had traveled far, and the wear was showing. Ultimately, decor could only go so far- the shape of the cockpit gave the entire thing the appearance of a giant, headless duck waddling around.

Both Hannah and her mother looked up at the burnished bronze of the plating as the strider rotated in place, swaying as it moved to stand perpendicular to the shop. A section of the cockpit was folded down on hinges, and a retractable ladder was quickly lowered to the ground, about ten feet below. The man who scrambled down was laden with a sturdy-looking rucksack, from which he procured a bundle of letters upon reaching the ground.

"Hey there, Rube! How's the morning been?"

"Pretty good, Silva. I've got a few letters for you." He handed them over, but gestured to the strider. "Wait a second, though; there's something else for you too."

He climbed back up quickly and returned with a package in his hand. Silva took the small parcel, and looked at the neat writing on the paper. She looked up again.

"This isn't from Valle."

"Well, yes, you're right. But honestly, it wasn't sent to you first. I had to take it to an address in Spirit Town, which was forwarded to you." He shrugged. "Someone's really making me move. But anyway, yeah, I just got back from my monthly out-of-town." Rube groaned, arching his back towards the sky. "I'm telling ya, the roads through the hills are just getting worse and worse."

"Well, we appreciate your efforts," Silva said, smiling at him. "There's no other way to get my chocolate fix fulfilled, or get my hands on those sweet, bright orange balls of heaven."

"...Oranges?" Hannah allowed herself a slight smirk, then turned to Rube. "Any news from outside?" She asked more eagerly than she would have liked to admit.

"Nah," Rube was shaking his head. "Usually, though, no news is good news... but I think there's something going on lately. I only made it to an outpost this time around, did the exchanges there. There was hardly anyone on the trails, though, just a lot of strange rumors. I may not go further than the mountains, but even I can tell that people are being awfully quiet."

"Really?" Hannah leaned forward. "About what, do you think?"

Rube snorted, "I don't have the time in my day to go snooping around." He turned to leave, but looked back at Hannah before climbing back up. "But hey, what's the worry? Valle is doing fine."

...

The linear structure of time seemed to shatter around Fela. Spears of ice shot through her spine, and she felt as if she was hanging in the air, destined to stay in the sky forever. Basil pulled back on a lever, his mind focused on only one thing: survival. If Fela was in a stage of euphoric shock, his mind was stretched taut, instinct taking control. He maneuvered the strider's legs, throwing one in front, and tucking the other limb under the machine. When they finally slammed back onto the ground, the bulk of the machine was under the cockpit itself, the front leg stretched out in front, its foot acting as a counter-balance. Basil had managed to minimize the damage by allowing the legs to absorb the shock of impact, rather than strain and shatter. And, he had done it instinctively. They sat there, the strider positioned in a colossal lunge, and waited for the crack of broken machinery, or the telltale tilt of a potential collapse. The only indication of movement was the subtle shift of pebbles and rocks as they settled back into the ground. Gingerly, Basil unfolded the back leg, testing for its integrity. But other than the doubtless span of dents and scrapes across the strider's frame, the machinery seemed to be doing alright. They sat there in silence, the minutes passing by. Basil nodded to himself suddenly, a weak smile on his face.

"I think we should go back now, Fela."

She shrugged, a nonchalant gesture, but didn't contest the statement. Fela knew how nervous Basil could get, and she couldn't imagine how he was holding it together. An angry Silva could send him trembling for cover, but was nothing compared to a drop off the side of a cliff. Still, she wasn't going to apologize for dragging him into this. She was too proud for that.

Fela was meticulous and efficient with her work at the Lodestone, her routine a picture of careful organization, of expected responsibility.

This sudden break from it all felt so exhilarating then- she'd given in. Finally, after looking for some outlet for the stress that had been building up for a while now, it came to her in the form of a wild joyride.

She would never admit her reasons for wanting to feel the wind rush through her hair, wanting to go diving through the forest with Basil.

But there was a nugget of guilt that was beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. She'd pulled Basil into her need for release, and almost killed them both as a result.

The problem was, he was too nice to hold her accountable for the near-disaster anyway, which didn't help things.

A sudden jerking pulled her out of her musings. Basil had turned the strider, pointing it in the direction of their home. At that moment, they were of one mind: dreading the painfully rough trek back.