The Lost Voices (OLD VERSION - New Version to Come)

CHAPTER 7... DRIFTER (PART 2)

FILE 15,308,640 (-1,036,800): Underbelly

8-18-1620 A.R.

Location: Ostium, Terrarin 

The construction beneath Ostium was marvelously ridiculous. Damp tubes lurched through the earth with a living vigor and concrete walkways adhered to the pipelines with an eager comradery. One refused to budge under the chilliest era, while the other screamed at the slightest sign of warmth. If dead leaves could freeze the air, it might've smelt of unborn snow. His dripping blood throbbed against the wind and prickled the bronze with painful art. 

Faraway, thunder whispered into the dirt's marrow as downpours cut tributaries into the sleeping machine from unfinished cellars. Cylindrical boilers emerged from the copper bowels as resting spires waiting to power a city yet to be born. Exotic arches, carved from onyx bricks, anchored themselves into shale rocks with a silent resolution against the unchanging mechanisms. Shadows warped over the ducts as tumbling hair, soaking the steel assemblies in liquid darkness. 

In every waterlogged step and each drenched squint, he found only brass cheeks awash with tears.

Ithrayel shivered, but ignored the urge to rake back the black strands icing his brow as he tentatively sheathed his sword. After several hours, his feet slowed so he could prop himself against a sweaty cask and light a cigarette. He cursed under his breath when he realized he only had one left and lamented the day he became addicted when he couldn't find his lighter. 

Running on empty, but desperate, Ithrayel reignited his magic and channeled a lime flicker through his metal thumb, just big enough to spark the cigarette. As the warm sizzle resonated through his joints, the pain subsided for a short wonderful minute.

He exhaled with a dipped chin, letting the smoke trail over his vision like an ashy curtain. In the haze, Ithrayel thought he could see his sister: Ella. She didn't even reach Ithrayel's chin, but she was so tall. Dimples accented her restlessly perky eyes that must've been dots of azure moonlight. Her frizzy locks spilled into clumsy braids that always managed to whip him in the chest when he wasn't looking. 

Stubborn as the rising sun, volatile as a cat, and sharper than a good quill. 

Ella wasn't naïve, but she was happy.

The first time Ithrayel and his older brother came back from an honest job, Ella was proudly dusting herself off after pickpocketing someone outside a bar. She had no intentions of hiding it and saw no reason in keeping it a secret, but she could've. From then on, before they were full-fledged teenagers, Ella and Ithrayel were always prowling the city. 

Their brother kept up a good job, went to school, and made a real living, while they kept slumming it with Terrarin's undergrowth. That's not to say their brother didn't show up when they needed him. The man bailed Ithrayel out more than once, always kicked Ella when her mouth wouldn't stop running, and was great to have in a bar fight. However, it took years for Ithrayel to connect with him.

It wasn't until their mother started sitting them all down together to play some games or do a puzzle. Sometimes it was cards or something with marbles, but whenever she brought a puzzle, it was those ridiculous, ten-thousand-piece ones. At first, Ithrayel and Ames didn't get it. Why a stupid puzzle? 

Then, after that initial coaxing, they would spend days working together over each individual piece. In some crazy way, that was how they spoke to each other. Just over figuring out how to make these meaningless pieces fit together. Yet, when the whole picture was done, he always felt so accomplished. They were all so much closer for something their mother might've only made into a tradition on a whim.