SKY - A Protogen Story

Primogenitor.

Inside the home there was more color to be seen. The wooden coffee table with the marks still present, the walls being a white color with a smog black colored strip near the floor. There was a brick fireplace on the left wall near the sofa. The right wall lead into the kitchen, with a brown dining table, with only four chairs present. No door lead to the kitchen, but a small hallway, being about a yard long.

"If I am ever a bother to you, don't be afraid to ask. I'll be out of your hair, quickly" Spyro commented, observing the wooden chairs in the dining room.

"You are no bother." Sky replied. "Come, sit down."

She pulled out one of the chairs on the right side, and he couldn't help but sit down. The chair faced towards the large window that presented the outside world, and in the distance, he could see several clouds of smog and ash, turning the sky above it black and gray. That was the area where industry ruled: where the big businesses went out to play. From where he sat, anyone could see the massive buildings that cleaved up to the heavens. Train tracks that rolled above city streets, creating a massive cloud of smog everywhere the engine went. Bridges that suspended above rivers of black sludge and waste. Massive pipes that shot out of factories and up to the clouds.

Any newcomer who dare enter the proximity of the city would be killed in mere hours or days due to the smog, unless protected by some sort of face covering. He never worked in the metropolis before, but many have. Everyday, men would enter the city through the bridge that ran above the black swamp, surrounding the city. Their visors would protect them from the noxious gasses all around the city, and still work a 8 hour shift. He turned his head and looked back in the house.

"Have you ever been there?" Spyro asked.

"Been where?" Sky asked in return, speaking from the kitchen.

"Fumus Point. The ash waste. Have you ever been?" Spyro repeated once more

Sky's hadn't said a word as she walked back from the kitchen, holding a plate of potato chips. She placed them in the middle of the table as she sat on the opposite side of Spyro, grabbing one and eating it, looking at me. He couldn't help but do the same as he grabbed one as well. Hence, ending the silence.

"Yes, I have, as a matter of fact. I was born there, years ago. I forgot all that happened there, but I remember that some day, for some odd, unexpected reason, I was banished. They forced me out of the city, and I fled here." She replied, crossing her arms as I kept mine out.

"Banished?" Spyro repeated. "How odd, indeed. How did you feel?"

"I surely felt something, but I cannot remember. All I could say is that it was new. Very new" Sky had moved her arms into the same position as mine.

"It seems as if you cannot return. They did banish you after all." Spyro replied

"Maybe they've forgotten of me and I can enter whenever I wish to. I've never tried. Have you?" She asked, keeping an attentive expression.

"No, not once. I look at it from afar, but I hear that the Freedom Parades will come close to it this year. You should go and watch. You'll be close to the town."

She thought about these words. He was right, she would be getting close to the town. Closer than ever. It would only be a few miles away. A hefty decision at that.

"Perhaps I will. I don't expect you to come, as you did say you didn't want to" Sky replied

He didn't reply, only scoffed as he looked out the window once again, keeping a small but visible smirk on his face.

. . .

The Freedom Parades were truly a sight to behold. Possibly thousands of souls crowded across the city sidewalks, blocked by barricades. One could see the hundreds of trucks and wagons,
rolling through the city streets. It couldn't help but leave the people amazed and astounded by the mementos of war revealed on the wagons, with soldiers standing on the platform, weapons of the past revealed, and soldiers walking down with their rifles held in a passive stance, all symmetrical to one another. Sky could notice the various paintings hung on the sides of of the trucks, showing the conflict of the war. Nobody ever wanted to enlist in fear of death, but once the enlisting had begun, people's hopes shattered. The parade had followed down the street for hours, almost up until noon. They concluded upon their arrival at the town hall, just a few miles away from the the smog-filled town. The town hall was constructed in a gothic style, with it's spires streaking upward, high and epic. She gazed upon this monumental construct, looking at the flat floor near the top arch, with four rolled up banner near the concrete railing. No one was present, but if there was, could be witnessed by the entire parade. Sky didn't draw much attention to the rolled up banners or the mile high spires, but only getting closer and closer to the massive wooden doors serving as the entrance. Thin metal bars held the door to the hinges, with no knob but a knock. This door was more than a door, but a symbol. She was out to find this symbol.