The Way of Steam and Pirates

Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for full disclaimer.

Chapter 2: The Way of a Monastic

The movement of time is a tranquil wave progressing into the horizon of the future, and we as humans are little more than seaweed mercilessly drifting over its every trough and crest; its own natural progressions representing our own repetitious successes and failures. History followed the melodic dance with stunning precision.

Years ago humanity believed it had found the answers to their need for energy, for light, for hope through harnessing the power of steam, which was manipulated through turbines of great and powerful pieces of technology. At once the slumbering world seemed to come alive as it never had before, exhaling out its own breath of life though the nostrils of factories and giant ships floating through the skies.

As this technology was harnessed and further developed, soon machines of all sorts and designs became offered and used by every range of people in their daily lives.

My gaze shifted from watching the bustling street that lingered below my window to instead the sky above, where various military and cargo ships seemed to meander lazily through expansive blue canvass; above the trials of everyday life, their very existence loomed like metal clouds casting their own shadows over those of us shackled to the Earth.

The sight of their metal bodies and the vastness of their white sails pulled at my imagination, leaving me wondering what it must be like to soar high above the clouds, and to look down at the rest of the world with hardly a care at all. To them, our problems must have seemed so trivial and mundane.

But just as the image was birthed in my sights I had to push it away again, for such places were not meant for me to embody, let alone even let myself muse on. In life there are those who are destined to hold the place of wonder and the rest of us who were meager enough only to dream from behind the stone walls of our enclosures.

Fate had made it known that my place wasn't meant to be among the clouds in the sky, but instead kept within the monastery walls of the Natural Order; the religious organization where I had been raised my entire life.

But that didn't mean I still didn't want that sort of magnificent life for myself.

When technology slipped its way into the lives of everyday people to the point of seemingly becoming their very lifeblood, the Order was established as a religious society whose discourse included the shunning of all technology as a means to return to the perceived natural order of the world. Their belief held that only though these means would the divines spare humanity of the Rust which continued to decimate so much of the world's population.

And so we lived, a religious society organized within the heart of mankind's technologically developed cities, working to help those in need and yet entirely unable to engage in even the simplest luxuries offered by machinery.

I turned away from the window, looking down as I smoothed out the folds of the soft white material of the simple button up shirt and pants covering my body; the materials specifically chosen to emulate the look of their ideal notion of natural purity. Or so they said. I could never be sure if that was actually how it made me feel, yet still I continued to adorn the material, and likewise made no attempt to change the white hair atop my head.

I knew as I adjusted the material that I couldn't continue to hide out in this room; that I was just delaying the inevitable. 'It's nearly afternoon now. They're going to start wondering where I am.' I told myself, turning my attention to the empty communal bedroom I shared with many of the other practitioners. Everyone had left for breakfast and to begin their daily duties hours ago, yet I remained lingering in the space, letting the lives of other mesmerize me rather than focusing on the life and responsibilities I led.

They said that it takes all sorts of people to make the world spin. But whoever coined that saying must have been someone of high class because every time I compared myself to everyone else I couldn't help feeling like nothing more than the laborer that worked day and night to spin the world while everyone else were the ones feeling the caress of air against their faces.

But I suppose that that injustice wasn't my concern for now, either, though.

Moving over to the door and exiting out at once released me from the quiet solidarity of the empty bedroom, replacing it with the bustling atmosphere of the Order going about their daily tasks. I had only to find my own place within the contained madness.

"Near," I immediately heard called to me from the side; looking over I found the abbot of the Order, Roger, approaching me. "Where have you been all morning? You weren't at breakfast earlier." He stated with just the slightest hint of worry to his tone. Though it was the suspicion in his beady eyes that seemed to convey that truthfully he was worried about the efficacy of his system when even one gear was out of place. Did that make him selfish?

I gave a small shrug, "My apologies, Roger. I wasn't feeling well earlier so I skipped breakfast and it seems I lost track of time in the process."

The expression in his eyes deepened, and I wondered if he honestly thought himself to be conveying any sense of wariness, rather than the worry of his own agenda. Though, at the same time perhaps I was projecting… "Are you feeling alright now?"

I nodded, "I'm fine." I responded, proceeding to take a step away from him in an attempt to end our conversation.

But his sudden words stopped me before I could create any real distance between us. "That's good to hear. Well, since you missed breakfast you missed the assigning of roles for the day."

'Wonderful…' I thought with a heavy internal sigh as I fought back the urge to roll my eyes. I already knew what this meant for me.

"Today you'll be assisting in the medical ward. You should head down there, I'm sure the doctors and attendants will need your help." His smile grew larger with each word that passed across his lips as his arms folded behind his back and he began to turn away from me.

I made no move to respond to him, unsure what would escape me if my lips were allowed to part, so he proceeded to turn and stroll away, leaving my look to slowly turn into a glare upon his back. Of all the places I could be put, of all the tasks he could have given me of course he would give the most menial of them all as punishment for skipping the morning rituals.

I sighed, accepting my determined fate and moving away from the room towards the exit of the living quarters and the building. The Order was known to often provide aid for those afflicted with the Rust, and were even some of the greatest proponents of studying it to find a cure. I found nothing inherently wrong with working in the medical ward, but with such a depressing atmosphere lingering within it, it was often not looked highly upon.

I made my way to the medical ward, a building positioned next to the monastery that had been attached and converted years ago to not only house the afflicted, but in order to devote the higher floors to the study of the disease rather than keeping them entirely separate.

Even just gazing up to the darkened windows of the higher levels fueled a fire in me that wanted to be up there, to be working at the puzzle that afflicted an innumerable amount of people, and killed so many more. For now though, it would have to be enough just to serve them.

I entered into the building, moving from the once consecrated holy interior to the confines that were dark and bleak with the presence of death looming over every inch of the space. The area was more or less unorganized with cots set up around the wide expansive area with bodies laying about in them while others were placed in bordering rooms that branched off from the interior, the people in those being sectioned off for study.

"Near." One of the doctors who attended the space more permanently than I called to me. "Good, you've finally shown up." He stepped out from one of the side rooms, giving me the slightest amount of attention as he pulled down the mask that had been covering his mouth, and up on the goggles that had been over his eyes. "I need you to go take some food over to our newest resident." His tone as cut with obvious annoyance.

"Resident?" Interesting word choice.

The doctor nodded as he crossed the space over to one of the side beds, beginning to check the vitals of the person lying there. "Yes. He was left here last night, but he doesn't have the Rust."

"Then why is he still here?"

He shrugged, "Roger said that it wasn't in the Order's benefit to turn anyone away." He huffed loudly, "A consideration which even extends to pirates, it seems."

'A pirate?' As in… a criminal with a ship who sails through the skies with only the care of when to dock and when to attack? A flair of fear and something akin to excitement sparked through my systems. I nodded, "Well, we must respect what Roger says, I suppose."

Offering a shrug the doctor motioned me away from him and I was happy to oblige, feeling my heart rise up to my throat as I moved across the room to where a makeshift kitchen had been set up, in which a large pot sat atop a fire brewing up a thick, brown soup.

Ladling some into a bowl I then proceeded through the building, eyes trailing over each person I came across until finally I found the 'resident' that'd been allotted to my care. They had placed him in the farthest corner of the room, he sat against the wall with vibrant long blonde hair that was now oily from neglect shielding his face from sight, adorned in predominantly black clothing except for the dirtied material of a coat that I could tell at one time had been a deep, violent shade of red.

I held my breath as though it would slow the quickening of my heartbeat as a singular thought rushed through my head: 'If I'm ever going to get out of the Order… this may be my only opportunity.'

There was something lingering in the air about him that said danger; that said he was an outlaw. I'd never encountered anything of this sort before, and I could already feel myself hanging off the presented opportunity.

Where could I even begin though? I was used to dealing with people afflicted by the Rust who were at the end of their rope and who no longer cared for their own well-being, but this… This was a different matter entirely.

I stepped hesitantly forward toward him, "Hello?" I spoke quietly, bending slightly to see if I could peer beyond his obscuring bangs, "Can you hear me?"

There was a momentary pause of silence that was just long enough to lead me to believe that the venture was lost; that he was completely out and I'd be stuck with nothing to do. But then, "Of course I can hear you. I'm not fucking deaf." His hoarse voice finally spoke up as his head lifted, revealing shocking blue eyes staring back at me.

I swallowed, feeling the pressure suddenly being exuded off him, more than likely feeling threatened within the unfamiliar surroundings. Surprising considering this was probably one of the least threatening places he could have ended up at… "Sorry, it was hard to tell with your apparent catatonia."

He hardly seemed to pay me any mind as his gaze moved past me, surveying the rest of the room to further gauge the area he was in. "Who the hell thought it was funny to drop me here, of all places? The fucking Order? Seriously, you've got to be kidding me."

I bit my tongue, reminding myself that it was the objective of our Order to stay on track rather than be moved by the often foolish words of the ignorant. "I couldn't tell you. But if you don't mind me asking, who are you, exactly?"

Those piercing eyes seemed to rip into my soul as his attention then turned entirely to me and his head lifted up further, "Don't you know it's rude to ask things like that?" I could hear what he meant, that it was rude to ask those questions among his kind of people. Thankfully, though, we weren't among his people, but mine, and here we especially liked knowing the people we were dealing with.

"My apologies. I suppose I don't really need to ask, anyway. It seems evident enough to the people here that you're a pirate. Honestly I'm really just curious about how a pirate ended up here, rather than still being in the skies."

His expression shifted, eyeing me with suspicion before his look fell to the bowl in my hands, "Is that for me?" It seemed to be his attempt at steering the conversation to a different direction.

I nodded, "Tell me who you are and I'll give it to you."

A small smirk peeled its way across his lips, "Now that's a bit better. Use what advantages you have. Everything should come for a price, even if your price is a stupid one. If you want to know so bad, my name is Captain Mello Keehl. I was the captain of a ship named The Diesel."

Having been given the information requested I handed over the bowl, "Was?" I questioned, "So what you mean is that you're not actually a captain anymore. What happened?"

He cringed just slightly as he realized what he'd let slip through his own words. But then he shook his head, bringing the bowl and spoon up to his lips seeming to inhale a bit of the contents before responding. "I answered your question, so now you tell me who you are. That seems only polite."

My look narrowed on him, reaching up to twirl a lock of hair if only to have something to do with my hands, "So what you mean to say is that you bend the rules to fit whatever situation you want to occur. Typical of a pirate. But in any case, my name is Near."

"That your real name?"

"Of course not, it's the religious name that was given to me when I was ordained. Is Mello yours?"

He shook his head, just as I expected. So, we were already establishing the parameters around each other with facades of the false images we presented to the rest of the world, or in the very least to the separate spheres of the world for which we lived in. Strange to find them interconnecting here, of all places. "So what happened?" I pressed onwards, genuinely curious about where it was Mello had come from.

He was quiet as he took in more of the soup, then sighed, "Apparently my crew didn't like how I was running my ship. Five months ago they forcibly removed me from command; by which I mean the assholes literally dropped me out of the sky and stole my ship." I could hear the indignation on his words, but more than that I could hear the subtle signs of shame resounding off of him. Being captain appeared to be the pride of his identity which made me wonder why exactly he was still stuck on the ground with the likes of us after such a long time.

But then something struck me about his story. "You're lying."

He looked up from where he'd been spooning more of the contents of the bowl into his mouth with a fervor that suggested he hadn't actually eaten a proper meal in days. "I'm a pirate, not a liar." He said it as though it was absurd to even relate the two together

I shook my head, "They dropped you out of the sky? Just… straight into the ocean? From that sort of distance, at the speed you would have accumulated, if you actually hit the water your entire body would have been utterly destroyed, to put it lightly."

He looked up, glaring at me, "Are you a fucking monastic or a physicist? Look, I don't know how I survived. I don't remember what happened. I just remember being dropped off my own ship and it falling away from me. For all I know some other ship was right below them and I just fell onto their deck but passed out from shock. Who the hell knows?"

I nodded, willing to accept the mystery of his survival for at least the moment as there were more pressing matters I needed to attend to. "So, Mello, at the end of the day you're not really a captain, then."

"I am a captain." He stated with a fiery glare.

"Without a ship you're not." I could feel that he was about ready to throw the bowl at me. "Regardless, what I'd like to know is why you are still in this state five months after being overthrown? Shouldn't you have taken back your own ship, or in the very least acquired an entirely new ship and crew and started over?"

He shook his head, "It's not that simple."

"Have you tried?"

He pulled the bowl down, giving me yet another glare, "What exactly do you expect me to do, go down to the docks and miraculously rig up another crew, steal someone's ship just to take back The Diesel and my old crew and whatever idiotic contract they had been given in the first place?"

"Well, if you want to keep calling yourself a captain instead of merely holding on to the fumes of the past, then yes that is exactly what I'd expect you to do."

He regarded me momentarily with that lingering bout of suspicion, playing over my words as though they hadn't already been playing through his own mind for five months. What was the difference between then and now which finally gave the idea an ounce of weight or persuasive sway?

Finally the bowl was put down on the ground and he began to push himself up, "Fine. You think it's so easy to do then we'll see about that. Sure, I'll do it. But you're coming with me so you can see that this isn't so easily done, since you think you can just tell people what they should be doing with their lives. Consider yourself my first mate."

His hand was extended out to me, his image appearing over me against a white light. Like a savior against the suddenly open door of my stone cage, offering me freedom. 'Just as planned.' I thought to myself, my heart again picking up in my chest. This was my once in a lifetime chance to see the world, to experience the breeze of the Earth spinning and for once not feel as though I was damned to remained shackled to the Earth, to the way of life I'd lived for so long.

I nodded, taking his hand, "You do realize I'm not a sailor, and much less a pirate let alone even an outlaw, correct?"

A confident smirk crossed his face, the expression immediately infusing my being with a desire to place my trust with him to do with as he will. How reckless I could be… how reckless I was so willing to let myself become. If he was the tempter sent by the divines to test my convictions, then I wanted nothing more than to be damned.

He nodded, "It's fine. Give me time and I'll turn you into a fitting pirate. Welcome aboard, Near."

A/N: I apologize for waiting to upload this second chapter! I had planning on putting it out with Dice on Monday, but I completely forgot. Anyway, this story has become my 'for fun' story, and thus I'm not stick with any schedule for it, instead updating whenever I finish chapters, and since I've been wanting to work on it a lot, expect frequent updates! The next chapter is already in the works! But until then, I would of course love to hear any thoughts and comments you have about this!

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-Forbiddensoul562