Howling Gears

Prologue

I decided just to go with it, so here's the Prologue to the Windup Wolf, a steampunk/werewolf novel mix. Enjoy! It's just the Prologue but enjoy nonetheless.

From the past he can't forget Vincent grinds the hours away in his workshop, fixing instead of destroying. His family has grown so much together over the last years. Clark is toiling away his hours for the Army, doing countless exercises and drills efficiently and easily. Sara, a fiery sprite of a girl, somehow managing to stay cooped up inside the school-boat for hours on end. She should be finishing up very soon now, and walking home through the hustle and bustle of Vicotra. Sweet, sweet Abigail upstairs reading the newest book from her favourite author, Reem of Tusu. They had eeked out a normal life, and were happy.

Clara had lived in the Land all of her life and heard stories of the Seasons. Summer was a time for festivities and holidays. If a party was bright enough, the constellations themselves would come down and join in the festivities. In the Spring, beauty was restored to the world and the harvesters were sent out to gather the petals of the Aeolias and Diffalions. Then, the castles streets would be lined with all the beauty of Spring. The Winter was a time for family when her mother and father would huddle beside the fire in the great hall and laugh into the night. Thier stories still resonate with her today, stories of the Fall, when death was brought and ran rampant. Last Fall the reaper had marked her. Clara had yet to ever see a Season but always feared for the next fall.

Nathan Forestrength hunts and lives in the Shire Woods. His parents abandoned him and was raised by wandering merry-makers. As soon as he grew to be smart enough to hunt, he set off towards Vicotra to make his way in the world. A dashing man, who bled chivalry and spoke thievery. Like the tall tales of Robin Hood, he was a living legend. Cast out from humanity, he survives off the grace of Mother Nature and watches the city stretch into the clouds from afar, a little saddened at his fate. He then laughs, and sings to himself as he watches for the next horseless carriage to steam by.