Bridges

Please feel free to tear it apart with criticism as long as it's constructive

At the turn of the new century thousands upon thousands of citizens from the eastern union fled westward hoping to begin a new life. Among that swarm were some of the brightest eastern engineers of all times: the Machin. Some among the eastern union claimed that these heroic minds attained their knowledge from the gods themselves, most however scoffed at such baseless speculation.
When the colonization of the west began, most of the west’s new inhabitants turned to the six most prominent Machin: Tauro, Fleet, Bane, Felix, Adder, and the most infamous, Eve. Each of the Machin used their influence to pull colonists to separate ends of the new country, and when they reached their destination each built a glorious memorial city which became their new home.
When I laid my eyes on St. Adder after my long travel north, I could not help but feel I was looking upon no more than the tombstone of a long forgotten artist. It’s gloomy cobblestone streets and projected spires all subtly pointed and led the eye towards the gigantic tower which cast its shadow over the city.
It would not be until later than night in the dining halls of the local royalty, that I would hear the mystifying truth behind the town of St. Adder.
“So you’ve seen the river right?” the Mayor would ask me. Upon hearing of my reasons for traveling to St. Adder, he had personally requested to meet with me over dinner. “Quite a spectacle isn’t it?”
I myself was far to interested in separating the chopped carrots from the peas on my plate to properly acknowledge the question, “Ah yes, it is very blue.”
The Mayor looked doubtfully downwards at the plate of ripe red apples beneath him, as if to consult them, “Ahaha,” he retorted after a moment, “Perhaps I have worded that in the wrong way, have you noticed very much about the structure of the city?”
I had understood his question the first time of course; the city of St. Adder was not traditional by any means, for the vast majority of it hovered over the Serpent River, supported by an array of sturdy oak bridges.
The Mayor continued, “It is said that when the Machin Adder reached this plane he stopped and studied the river that he had followed north for the first time in months, as if he has never before seen it. He sat and stayed in the same spot staring un-blinkingly at the river for days… His followers thought he had gone mad. Then on the third day, he stood and returned to his people, and told them that the city was to be built on top of the river!”
It was an interesting tale that differed much depending on who you heard it from. Some would say that Adder followed the river staring intently at it the entire time, keeping his eyes wide open even as he slipped from consciousness, and had the intent of building his city over the water from the beginning. Others say that Adder was mad, and dove completely into insanity the day he laid his eyes upon the plane where St. Adder is now set.
“The only thing certain about the matter is that nothing is certain!” exclaimed the Mayor heartily.
And that was the truth; the reasoning behind the actions of Adder remained a mystery to even his closest of friends. The man had had no confidants.
“That reminds me,” said the Mayor, changing his tone, “I heard you hold in your possession one of Adder’s passes?”
It was a very blunt statement, and I had no choice but to recognize his question, “Yes, I received it from the mailman 20 or so years ago; although at the time I received it I had not intention of following it.”
“May I see it?” The Mayor asked cautiously.
I reached into my cloak and produced a slender black envelope, which I promptly placed upon the palm of the Mayor. He opened the envelope and held it’s contents in front of his spectacles.
“Adder was quite a marvelous man,” the Mayor stated, unable to avert his gaze from the grey paper’s embedded gold lettering, “Yes, he wrote this… I could recognize his pen work at a glance…” He allowed his last statement to trail off, his eyes still intensely fixed on the pass. I am sure that by the time I was forced to remove him from it and take my leave, the Machin’ words had etched themselves permanently into the back of his mind.
As I walked towards the exit however, the Mayor approached me for a final statement, “One moment!”
I turned to face the man who quickly asked, “What was your name? I seem to have forgotten”
“Cavus”
“Right… there’s someone else in this city that holds one of those, if I were you I would seek him out… He runs a printing shop on the other side of town, I’m sure his knowledge will be invaluable to you.” And with that I bore him salutations, and thrust myself into the night, leaving the Mayor to ponder his troubles in solitude.
It was later, after I had secured accommodations for the night, that I found myself wandering the lamp-lit evening streets of St. Adder. At this time of night, no member of the city dare wander its streets, spooked by tales of demons, and with myself up and about, they could almost be correct. My drift through the city eventually led me to the monstrous tower that stood at the center.
The tower, unlike the rest of the city, was not built upon a bridge, but rather erupted strait from the Serpent River, and was supported on all sides by ropes as thick as logs, which tethered the tower to the rest of the town. 8 thin rope bridges led to 8 symmetrically placed doors at the base of the tower, and I took hold of the one nearest to me and crossed into the hulking structure’s spherical inner sanctum. The inside was not lit by any gas lamps or torches, and was kept illuminated only by the moonlight that shot in beams downwards onto the marble slab floor.
In the center of the floor, was a circular pit which reached towards the roaring waters below, and above it hovered a glistening metal sphere, not apparently supported by anything,
“Interesting huh?” a gruff but gentle voice rang out from the previous silence. I was not alone. I turned my head to see the silhouette of a man leaning across the railing of the pit, his head turned upwards towards the sphere. What appeared to be an apple rested in his left hand, and he would occasionally lift it to his face and bite off of it. He opened his mouth again, “It’s a liquid metal you know?”
“I’ve heard,”
“It’s kept there by magnets,” he directed his finger at the silver walls of the spherical room, “It pushes the metal equally in all directions, making it a ball like that” The man’s voice seemed familiar in a distant sort of way, like I had known him for a very long time.
“Right,”
There was a pause. The only sound either of us could hear was the rushing of water from deep in the pit.
“Word has gotten around about you coming here, they say you have Adder’s last pass.” He continued to focus on the sphere, “It is very strange, seeing as you’re the eastern citizen to ever receive one, and well…” He stopped, “you’re rather late to the party now aren’t you?”
“What does it matter to you?”
“I’ve made my living off of being curious.”
The man’s name was Abacus, and in St. Adder, he was regarded as a sorcerer, despite being nothing of the sort. In reality, he made ends meet selling objects of interest at his curio shop… Items that everyone in town was convinced were enchanted. We spent a time there, in the inner sanctum of the tower, sharing few words, but communicating in a quantity larger than some took years to accumulate. At the end of it all I stepped towards the door with the intention of starting my trek back to the Inn, when he turned towards me for the first time that night.
“Be careful friend,” his eyes shone green like a cat’s, “There are demons out this time of night”
There were demons out that night; I could feel it as I walked about the streets of St. Adder. They hid from my sight, but I knew they were bearing down on me, and judging me even when I entered my room and lay on the mattress. They danced and swirled in the back of my mind, and until the point I fell from consciousness and into nightmare, I was begging for the sun to rise…
As it would turn out, I met the Mayor’s acquaintance the very next day. I was in a café on the west side of the city, drinking what was allegedly coffee when he walked through the door. I admit at first glance that I did not think much of him, his eyes were beady, and a mix of sweat and oil crawled down his face and arms. He sat at one of the wooden tables and tried unsuccessfully to flag a waitress several times before being attended to. It wouldn’t be until later when I walked into his printing shop, that I would recognize him for who he was.
Oculus Printing Co. was a curious place, even by St. Adder’s standards it stood 2 stories tall, towering over its neighbors, Mindy’s Meat Shoppe and The Rusty Wheel.
“I gave up on that,” he would say to me across the warped wooden table. The water powered printing presses shot steam into the air, forming a dense mist throughout the interior of the building. “I tried for a month or so, but I couldn’t put myself forward to Adders task for longer than that, especially after seeing the others drive themselves mad.”
2 thin black envelopes sat neatly in the middle of the table.
“All I want is what you know; I don’t intend to ask any more of you than that.”
His beady eyes looked sorrowfully downward to the envelopes, “The tower at the center of the town, it wasn’t made by Adder, it was made by Eve.”
“Eve?”
“Eve the Machin, why she came here I cannot be sure, but the tower in the center of town was undoubtedly constructed by her.”
I thanked him for his time, and exited through the front door, trailing swirls of mist from behind me. His information was useless, I felt as though I had utterly wasted my time. Without any lead or guidance to what my next step should be, I stumbled about the streets of St. Adder taking interest in the items and services offered in the shops that lined the streets. I stopped once during my wander to settle for a lunch, but most of my travels that day were pointless wandering, at least until I walked into a certain curio shop on the East side of town.
Abacus’ shop was faithful to the word curious in just about every sense possible. The high walls of the shop were lined with shelves, which were covered at every nook and cranny with strange and unique items. I was examining an amputated tongue in a Petri dish, when the owner of the Curio descended from the spiral staircase in the back.
“Ah, there’s quite the story behind that item sir.” Abacus’ gruff voice sounded across the room. He looked much younger than I had expected, and was dressed from neck to sole in a lavish velvet robe. His eyes however, were what captivated me the most; his pupils were so large, that one could not see the whites of his eyes. It made him look very much like a beast.
“Does it?” I responded.
“That’s the tongue of Geralt the liar, he never told a truth once in his life. He must have gotten in some trouble, because one day I found him on the streets of St. Adder, cupping it in his hands.”
“That’s… disgusting,”
A smirk formed on his lips, “It has its uses, mainly, it bleeds when it hears a falsity,” He turned towards the tongue, “Your master’s name was Geralt.” Thick red liquid sprung from the tongue and quickly filled the Petri dish. Abacus’ let out a gentle chuckle, “Like I said, the man never told a truth in his life.”
There was moment of silence before Abacus turned his gigantic black pupils onto me, “So how goes the puzzle easterner?”
“It doesn’t”
“So you’ve given up on Adders request so easily have you?” His face betrayed his amusement, “Most take several months before they reach that point.”
“You know what I think? There is no puzzle, Adder was mad and wanted to drag others with him into his madness.”
“Really?” Abacus once again let out a look of amusement, “Is that so?”
“Yes,”
“Geralt disagrees with you.”
I glanced to the side. Blood had spilled over the edges of the Petri dish and onto the wooden floor, where it fell between the cracks and continued to spread. Abacus looked intolerably smug. Internally, I scowled at my own incompetence.
“So, easterner, what did you say your name was again?”
“I didn’t,”
“Hah, well then, I have to close shop now, I don’t suppose you would accompany me to the tower?”
The air carried a slight breeze across St. Adder as we stood outside the Curio. Abacus produced from his pocket a small golden key, promptly pushed it inside the lock on the front door, twisted it, removed the key from the lock, and then re-admitted the object into his deep velvet robe. The twilight painted the city orange as we roamed about, casually exchanging information. Once during our walk to the tower, I remember Abacus stopped a pointed towards the cobblestones on the ground.
“Do you see it?” He asked, looking at me expectantly. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Look closer,” He insisted, “at the stones.” I looked closer. There was a spot in the road where the thin layer of cement and stone had been uprooted from the ground, revealing the oak bridge underneath. Through the cracks of the oaken bridge, the Serpent River roared a mile downwards.
“St. Adder is a real oddity, I mean sure, all six of the memorial cities are, but St. Adder stands out in particular, because the idea of the entire weight of this city being supported by what are essentially wooden bridges,” He paused, “Well… It’s just amazing.”
“It is certainly impressive,” I responded. We resumed walking.
“You know Adder sat for days staring at the Serpent River; know why I think he decided to build this town on the River?” He paused, but not long enough for a response, “He wanted to defy nature. He wanted to defy god.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” I said, trying to cast the discussion aside.
“You know it’s realistically impossible for this town to be supported by those bridges? They can’t support the weight of this city, it’s just impossible.”
“But the bridges do hold the city,”
“Or is it the bridges at all?” He asked, casually plucking an apple from a low hanging tree. I didn’t respond, rather, I waited for his inevitable response.
“It is simply Adder’s will that the city isn’t swept away in the currents of the Snake River. His will to defy nature; His will to defy god; both so ingrained into the city that they force the city upright, and hold the bridges intact.”
We strolled on into the night, towards the center of the city. The world darkened around us, and the orange of the twilight was replaced by the blue of the night. Abacus was once again reduced to a silhouette with glowing green eyes. Soon our trek through the abandoned streets took us across the towers bridge, and once again into its inner sanctum. We both resumed our previous positions from the night before. He stood leaning over the rail, an apple in his left hand, staring upwards at the hovering metallic sphere. It was here that he began to speak again.
“About 80 or so years ago Adder sent out those passes… you’ve got one of them in your possession right now, correct?”
“Yes,”
He didn’t respond with words, he instead held out his hand expectantly. I reached into my pocket and pulled from it the thin black envelope, then placed it in his outstretched hand. He opened the envelope and read its contents.
“Everyone was shocked by what Adder announced through them, the tower, what many believed was the heart of St. Adder, was not designed by Adder, but rather another Machin, though he never mentioned who.”
I remained silent as he continued his statement.
“He sent those passes to challenge the great minds of the world, to try to unlock the tower… to find it’s secrets, and many tried,” He pointed at the sphere, “Most decided it has something to do with that ball, they believed it was a lock of some sort needing of a key. One man stood upon the railing and flung himself headfirst into it, believing he was the key. The liquid metal in the sphere devoured him alive.”
Abacus finished his last line coldly, contempt flooding his voice. I felt something horrible in the air, a chill crept up my spine.
“The story of the passes… it’s all just so very representative…” He let his comment trail off.
“Representative of what?” I couldn’t help but ask. He turned to me, a malevolent grin spread across his face, his eyes shone even greener than before.
“Representative of the only thing you’re good at Adder… manipulating others.” And with that, reality shattered, and Abacus’ eyes pierced me like swords. The world blurred and shook, then finally slipped away.
I awoke where I had been the morning of the previous day, my room at the inn. I leapt from my mattress and hovered to the ground, then gracefully descended the stairs and left the building. The sky and sun were smothered by endless cascading clouds, which moved at the speed of a flowing river above me. The people of the town had taken leave, and were no where in sight. I glided through the town past the Mayor’s house, and the printing shop, until I finally reached my final destination.
The curio was desolate, although it maintained its shelves of oddities, the rest had been stripped bare, even the spiral staircase in the back had been gutted from the back of the building. I stepped to the back of the curio, examining it all, hoping for some remedy to the insanity that engulfed me.
There was a sudden noise from the front of the shop. I turned to see the owner of Oculus Printing Co. Standing at the door, his beady eyes darted from side to side, surveying the scene.
“Hey!” I tried to get his attention. His eye’s quickly centered and focused on me.
“I know you…”
“From the printing shop remember?”
He didn’t respond, he only stood staring at me unblinkingly. Then he slowly opened his mouth, “I know your name”
“Cavus,” I responded. A voice shattered the inside of my head, LIAR, PITIFUL LIAR! The man only smiled, and then faded away. I could only stand there in disbelief, wondering if the man had been there at all. The voice pierced my skull once more, LIAR!
I felt something wet around my ankles, and looked down to find myself ankle deep in blood. My eyes turned to the shelf on the left side of the room, where a certain Petri dish was overflowing with the substance.
FILTHY MACHIN! FILTHY ADDER! I KNOW YOUR TYPE! I’VE LIVED WITH YOUR TYPE! YOU HAVE NOTHING BUT YOUR LIES!
“This is my garden. This is my city.”
YOU HAVE NEITHER. WHILE YOUR WHORE BUILT YOUR GARDEN YOU WEPT AT THE RIVERSIDE. YOU’RE WHOLE LIFE IS A SERIES OF MANIPULATIONS; YOU CAN’T EVEN CALL YOURSELF A MACHIN. PITIFUL CREATURE.
I reached out towards the talkative appendage, hoping to silence it’s accusations against me. I grasped it in my hands, then shoved it quickly into my pocket, then waded outwards back into the streets trailing blood behind me.
The streets were lined with rotted apples that had apparently fallen from the many trees that grew throughout the town. The brown soft fruits were easily crushed under my feet as a moved, for my last time, through the streets of St. Adder. The clouded sky, the sharp shadows cast across the streets, the rotten apples covering every step on the path, they all held an undeniable tone of finality, and I marched ever onward towards the tower to face it.
Abacus stood solemnly in the inner sanctum of tower, staring upwards into the sphere which had taken on a new golden hue.
“Finally back?” His voice had taken on a new hostility. I didn’t understand anything that was happening, but I wouldn’t let him know that. Whatever he was trying to do, I wouldn’t let him best me. He spoke again, “Why did you try to hide who you were Adder? Were you ashamed?”
“What could I possibly be ashamed of? I built this city, it’s mine. I led the helpless colonists of the Eastern Union here and gave them a home. Many owe everything to m-“
“-They owe nothing to you,” He interjected, “You manipulated every single one of them. To you they were nothing more than tools which could be discarded at any time.”
Suddenly, my familiarity with this man flooded back to me, and I recognized that I stood before a man I had not seen in nearly a hundred years. I was in the presence of Felix, one of the six great Machin who divided the new country.
“I always knew you were corrupt Adder, that’s why I told her to stay away from you, that’s why I stood here waiting for you.” He stopped, looking regrettably at the floor, “Why did she listen to you?”
“It was love,”
“Hah!” he laughed scornfully, “Maybe from her! You could never love anything you despicable snake! You used her! Manipulated her into hiding your true self! She built you a city and you cast her aside!”
Blood filled my pockets and drenched my clothes. He stared at me fiercer than ever. I didn’t respond to any of it, I just stood looking directly into Felix’s cold black eyes. Felix bent down and wrenched an apple from the ground, it turned red and ripe in his hands and he cast it over to me. I caught the object and stared at it.
“I solved your puzzle,” he said steadily, “Go make your peace,”
He turned and moved towards the doorway, and then disappeared from my sight. I was left alone covered in my blood. I turned and stared towards the now golden sphere. I don’t know how long I sat there, but it could have been years. I was all alone now, there was no reason to lie or deceive anyone.
I approached the rails and scaled them, then stood upright balancing myself on top of them, the apple clasped in my palms. I took one final moment to collect myself, and then I thrust my hands wrist deep into the metal sphere, the apple still in their grasp. The metal rippled, and then it calmed. It pulled me deeper until my elbows were inside the radius of the great metal sphere.
It rose, pulling me with it and suspending me over the great pit, then slowly descended into it. Together, I and the sphere traveled downwards into the depths of the tower. The sphere didn’t stop at the Serpent River, and we plunged into it’s deep waters, continuing downwards further and further and right before I slipped from consciousness, I realized I had arrived.
The walls of the new room were round like the inner sanctum of the tower, and painted with the same golden hue as the sphere that held me. I was promptly released from the spheres grasp when it returned to its previous liquid form and was pulled hastily along invisible tracks upwards towards the inner sanctum. I was left knee deep in water in this cage of a room, and I looked in horror at its contents.
There in the center of the room lied the broken and battered corpse of Eve, among a collection of writings scattered across the walls, penned in her blood…Blasphemies that I cannot bear to repeat. I kneeled over her, and stared into her, and saw clearly the undying hatred she had for me. I wept, and by morning St. Adder had collapsed, and was consumed by the raging Serpent River.