The Son of the Revolution ep. 2

The two made quite the pair, Donivan and Rethen. The pair shared the blood and grit of a battle recently lost. I could see the ghosts in Donovan's eyes. I have known Donivan for a great many years, and those closest to the man can all attest to his uncanny smirk. A man normaly possessed by such charisma and disarming wit, he wore that trademark grin like a badge of honor. To see him like this, utterly grin-less, beaten, bloody, and with wrists in chains, the scene brought with it a clawing uneasiness. 

"You are a fool Donivan. Great gears!"

I rose from my well cushioned seat, not conent to lecture the man before me from the complacently of my chair. You must understand that back in those days I had an image to uphold. Even though I counted Donivan as one of my closest friends, he was the second most wanted man in the Queens court. Second only to the boy he stood beside.

"What were you thinking coming here? You have damned us both!"

"Hello old friend"

The grin, returning to this beaten man's visage, did nothing to quell my uneasiness. There was a somber moment of silence, for Airpirates such as ourselves such moments often act as omens. At least such is the superstition. This particular ominous moment comes to me with such vivid clarity, the morning rays of Gesh, the salted air, but more than anything, that clawing incessant uneasiness. The moment stretched on, neither Donivan nor I willing to make the next move.

"It's after me."

These were first words I heard the boy say. Profound, really, when one takes a moment to consider how much that day's events would act to reshape the realm. I looked at the boy beside Donivan for the first time...Then, the realization struck, like the thunderous waves crashing against the cliffside below. Rethen had his father's eyes, one does not simply forget eyes such as those. The boy was the spitting image of his father, the face of the revolution, my former partner, Victor Solise. Suddenly the room became smaller. I sank back into my chair, Donivan began in a quiet patient voice so strangely uncharecteristic of him.

"Friend, we have found ourselves in more than a few dark alleys... But I have never needed your help more than I do today. I have nothing, it's all been burned to the ground, curtesy of her royal shunt blood. The boy... he is a hunted man."

"Dammit Archer, what could possibly demand such dramatic measures?!"

"Law"

There are few words Donivan could have spoken to strike fear in me. For there are not many things, both living nor dead that inhabit our globe that could lead me to abandon resolve. The word "Law" was one of these rare things. In the realm we live in today most know the name Law, it brings to mind images. Images of mangled and dismembered human husks. Yes, husks, not corpses. You can't call the things he left behind corpses. In those days most ordinary men had no idea the hulking mechanical monstrosity even existed. But on that balcony, in the early hours of Gesh's sunrise, there stood no ordinary men.

"Donivan, we should continue this conversation in private."

Salutations

My name is Captain Skybeard. I am a man of many travels, a wandering soul. I was once a king, twice a father, and many times a lover. but I will always be a pirate. 

Think of the marvels, what we have witnessed in our short lives. Are we so deserving of such powerful change to the face of our globe? The steam engine, parabolic capacitors, the moving image, powered flight. We are blessed. and yet we squander our gifts. May we divine clockwork from the chaos.

It should seem so strange, contrary to the perpetually circling clockwork cosmos, that I a man of no particular merit, gifted in no particular way; a seemingly talentless whelp, should have come to live the life that I have lived. I have been called a product of my times, for nothing more than paying attention to the times. Many of the stories about me are true, however a fair share are no more than tall tales. I am a renegade after all, the fact is embellishment is in my nature, I thrive on the notion that I might one day be no more than an enigma.

I speak beside myself. However in times of such devastating tragedy someone must... moreover, I must speak my peace! For most of my life neutrality has been my fiercest ally, it has served me well and guided me through the torrents of life in Her Royal Court. But no longer will I hide in the grey amidst the smokey gunfire, no longer will I deprive myself a cause. So I will fight, as I have always fought, with wit, bullets and blades. I will fight this wretched eternal queen of ours. I will fight the tyranny of the monotonous. 

My name is Skybeard and this is my manifesto.

The Son of the revolution ep.1

I choose to begin my tale not at the beginning, but rather with the moment that changed the course of my life. The day I lost the steely gaze of neutrality. The day I met Rethen Solise, son of the revolution.

As I am sure many of you know I played my part during the first revolution's uprising. Infact The SkyBeard exchange wouldn't be half the empire it is if I hadn't. During a goldrush, its the one selling the picks an shovels that catches the big coin purse. Trouble was I wasn't in the goldrushing business. I was in the business of thieves and killers, I was a pirate. 

So naturally I sold guns to both sides. It wasn't easy I'll tell you that much. Victor Solise, now there was a man of such profound ideals it was though he could see straight through you. he reminded me of the father I never had. But he was crazy, crazy enough to attack the Queen. And that meant he needed me, despite my dirty hands.

And the Queen, I had never met a more vile fiend of power. Her perpetual youth like a sick perversion of nature. But I too was young, and far to confident in my abilities. Memories of those first few moments I shared in her presence still haunt me. Like the specter of Law.

Naturally as the conflict came to a close, the renegade Don Victor Solise and his entire force were decimated, and a contract was struck. The Queen is a terrible thing to work for... this is a lesson I have paid handsomely to learn.

For 22 long years I lived like this, a pirate under protection of the Queen. I could do no wrong. I became complacent, content to fall into line with this illusion of freedom. It was during this time I came to call Donivan Archer a friend. Then, more a puppet than a pirate, living through Donivan was all I had. 

I remember the day. We were in Gesh. Its dark cliffsides dropping straight into the ocean. That old porttown. I remember the smell of salt, and the ocean mist against my face. I was sitting on a balcony, when Donivan and Rethen were let in...