Steampunk Tales, Volume 1

by Ren Cummins

  The Machines keep the monsters from our streets, and, it is just as well, for our friend Romany has departed. Briseida will say nothing more than that she is well and felt that she must leave us to protect us, but I sense deception in her words.

  More than the loss I feel of a friend, I am more acutely aware of the loss as it is felt by Kari.

  Kari. Writing her name has an effect, but I know not to describe it.

  I am wasting ink. I would be inclined to tear this page from the tome, but even my failing at this task must be thus recorded.

  And thus begins another day. If only something interesting would happen.

  Year of Exile Two Hundred Seven;

  Carr’s Services and Acquisitions

  Cousins, proprietor

  Oldtown-Against-The-Wall

  Aerthos

  Appendix B:

  Assorted pages from the texts of Aerthos:

  Aerthos, majestic sphere of elemental life and wonders, burst forth from the womb as a babe, blind and singing. She arrived filled with the void and seeking to be filled. The song was given form, and the form was given life. Life spread across the face of the void, and the void was flung from its silent reverie to chase after starlight and desolation.

  One small star shifted from its nest and led the void in pursuit to the end of time; in its wake it left the twin moons, Grindel and Prama, brother and sister to Aerthos, to care for the young babe.

  The babe sang out, and its song sundered the silence as if light and darkness; the sunlight carried the melodies of Joy and Desire; the night mingled with the harmonies of Dreams and Envy. In return, Grindel gave unto the babe the gift of Knowledge, and Prama gifted the blessings of Belief.

  The emotion of Anger attended the birth of Aerthos, and asked, “Unto whom shall I cleave? For both day and night have been given gifts, and what of I?”

  But Aerthos could not answer, for she was yet a babe; the sun was busied in its resplendent finery, while Grindel and Prima quarreled over who gave and received the better gifts. Anger in its sorrow crept down into the swaddling of the newborn, warming the child, forgotten and ignored.

  And so the life upon the face of Aerthos grew and prospered, being fed by her two gifts like trees bearing fruit. Of the trees of Belief came the fruit of the Arts, filled with the sweetest remembrances of her Song, luscious and pure to the taste; but the trees of knowledge bore fruit with no Song, and it was dulled and grey.

  Chapter 1, Tome of Aquos

  In those days Aerthos had grown into a young woman, and still the life grew upon her, but the forgotten Anger whispered a new song into her ears, one of Pride and Denial. This song crept into the great network of roots, feeding up into the fruit of all that grew upon her, and was partaken of by the life which covered her. And they in turn created a new song, which they called War.

  Like the changing of light and shadow, War passed in waves upon Aerthos, and lives were fed again into their mother until she was filled to the point of bursting. And when she cried out in pain for the swelling of life, the Void returned once again from its star-gathering and passed its mouth upon the woman, giving her a breath to exhale.

  The breath passed into the Void, granting silence once again, until the pains were faded away. Then the Void exhaled again, breathing life in again and out in its cycle.

  A new age dawned upon the face of Aerthos, as the trees of Knowledge gave no more fruit; they were cut down and crafted into newer tools, which they lifted up and gave the name Science. With this, they split apart the form of Aerthos, taking as they willed from her skin and sending their smoking breath up to hide away the stars.

  But those who partook of the fruit of the Arts crafted new songs, inspired by the fading glimpse of Envy. With greed of the tools of Science, a final song was crafted, birthing from the memories of Aerthos a stone, a Morrow Stone, captured from light and buried in darkness, kissed by life and abandoned by Fear, intended to bind the fruits of belief to those of knowledge.

  And from this song, the Void turned its ear, loosing its tears as great drops of fire upon the face of Aerthos. And in its rage, the Void sent among the life of Aerthos great gatherers to reap the swollen trees which bore fruit from the envious songs of man.

  Seeing the great Reaper’s fangs swallowing whole their fellows, man knelt before the angry Void and in a single voice cried for its mercy to be upon them. In their jealous and childlike haste, they had bound together what was meant to be divided.

  And the Void heard their cries, drawing back the many teeth from its great mouth, promising no desolation to again befall the form of Aerthos. And so it came to pass that the Void returned to its star-gathering, sending but few tears as needed to recall to mind the promise of life to bear the fruit from its own soil, and by its own sweat, and through its own breath.

  Chapter 2, Book of Aquos

  In those days Aerthos was great with child and did bring to light countless entities of life. Various and sundry were the shapes and sizes of life, many were the forms taken. In the sea and air and across the fields did they roam, but chief among these were man.

  Those beings not of man rebelled; pointing to the towering spires did they cry with a single voice, saying, Mother, are we too not loved by thee?

  And Aerthos did smile upon them, saying, Yea, I love thee. Have I not given thee a birthright, equal to the shares of Man?

  But the creatures of air and soil and sea wept aloud. When we speak, man does not hear us. He tears apart our homes and our flesh, wearing our skins to make us fear him. He is a trickster and a usurper. We fear him.

  And the enmity of Aerthos was enflamed; she did send storms above their heads and shook the stones beneath their feet. She created seasons of snow to cause his skin to burn with cold, and diseases to remove a tenth part. But man was unafraid; he built his towers stronger and took a greater share of his brothers’ birthright. The sickness which did not slay made him stronger yet.

  Aerthos wept, I cannot make him repent. He is willful and selfish. I beg you, flee his sight and let him harm you no more. For if you stay, he will destroy you,

  And it was that the children of Aerthos were scattered or did scatter themselves upon her sphere; and they spoke no more to man, lest he trick them and slay them.

  Man built up his kingdom; he looked upon the emptied fields and cried out in a victorious song: I have defeated my enemies, none exist to threaten me.

  But in the distant corners of the world, the brethren of man did hide away and endeavor to learn the lessons of man; for in their hearts, they knew man could not long be satisfied. One day, they knew, man would seek them out.

  Chapter 1, Book of Terrum

  About the Author: Ren Cummins

  The adventure began around the time a few astronauts were nancing about on the moon. There may have been off-roading, there may have been golf; but all I saw was one giant leap for mankind. I was reading comic books and dreaming of when I'd get to grow up to be Spiderman. The tales of heroes, old and new, infected my otherwise somber way of thinking, and what came out on the other side resolved itself into a love of adventure.

  I wish I could tell you that it was a direct path from then until now, but I've embraced the tangents of my life as fodder for material, from such relatively mundane (and disassociated) occupational interruptions like working as a hotel manager, music studio engineer, Middle Eastern drummer for bellydancers, and a crisis response manager. I've even picked up a few foreign languages, which fed right back into my love of English.

  Rumors persist that I may have invented some sort of time machine. But... that's another story for another time. See what I did there? Heh.

 

 

 
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