ADR:_.|8|._: chapter eight

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"It's the same place!" Virgil said announced. A few commons folk turned their heads towards him, glaring with curiosity. Anxiety got off his front side on the grass, standing out of place beside him. It was as if the Renaissance fair was happening right in front of them, only no games, no fun food, and a lot of smoke.

"So the industrial revolution meets sixteenth century Europe?" Anxiety asked. Virgil looked around at the sky, as beige and full of smoke as he remembered.

"I guess so?" Virgil asked. Anxiety sighed, noticing the house they went in before.

"I wonder if she's there, or if he's there, or if anyone is here." He said. Virgil hummed, starting to walk into the side streets of the town.

"Maybe, maybe not. I can't get a good time frame." Virgil replied. A news boy stood on the corner, a pageboy hat sitting with pride atop his head.

"Extra, Extra! Soldiers in the trench! Soldiers in the trench out east, fighting for the allies they be!" He yelled. Virgil looked over his shoulder at the boy in suspenders, catching a glimpse at the date on the front.

"1943," Virgil whispered. Anxiety looked to him with wide eyes.

"Why are they dressed like the renaissance?" Anxiety asked.

"Well, we aren't going through a real time machine, we're in Thomas' head." He said.

"Why is there a green haze everywhere?" Anxiety asked. Virgil shrugged.

"Probably from the stench floating in the air. it is disgusting around here." He commented. Anxiety nodded. They bumped shoulders with everyone they walked past, a bustling street of people buying and selling, crafting and wielding. The energy of a tight-nit neighborhood but the ignorance and rush of a major city. Factories towered over the town, steam pumping out of them like Steam Boat Willie's tug boat from the twenties. A single tower, taller then all the rest in the building being framed around it in old cobblestone, some fallen, some being gathered, stood proud behind it all, watching over the village.

As people continued to walk past, shoving to get where they wanted to run to, Virgil and Anxiety looked up and around in awe. As they reached the industrial district, they found men and women collectively working happily on their craft. Bakers pushing hot rolls through their windows and onto their counters to customers, blacksmiths pouring substance into their molds with satisfied complexions, woodsmen carving furniture with a charcoal pencil tucked behind their ears. Virgil smiled at the sight, people happy to live their domestic lives.

"We have to get up to that tower." Anxiety whispered. Virgil nodded, observing his surroundings. After passing more and more workers, a view of the tallest tower's base became visible. There were construction workers at the bottom, rolling rocks from one place to another.

"I feel bad for those poor saps..."

"I know, rebuilding the palace after the mighty bomb?"

"Ridiculous, we all know whoever is up there could have done it on their own..."

"How selfish..."

Virgil grabbed Anxiety by the sleeve, hearing him yelp as he lifted him up to have his mouth right next to his ear.

"The palace was bombed. The witch won't use their magic to fix it." He said. Anxiety's eyes shot in every direction at once. He nodded shakily.

"It's okay, we just need a weapon this time." Virgil ordered. Anxiety hummed as Virgil dropped him.

"Meet here in fifteen?" Anxiety asked.Virgil nodded as he started walking in the direction towards the forest, Anxiety in the other.

Towards the forest, there were more women and their creations from cloth and weaving jobs of wool and other increments than steampunk and stone. Men tipped their hats to the young women sewing on the road, making them blush with every word as if they were a ring right there. Virgil sighed, not understanding how in Thomas' mind there could have existed such a thing. But then, as he neared more apartment buildings and alleyways, he saw the true colors show. There were men and men holding hands as they sat against a wall, hiding the intimacy yet displaying it at the same time. He winked at them as he walked past, letting them know that it was safe.

Virgil continued to walk, seeing the things the rest of the town wouldn't. Mainly, people expressing themselves in secret and simultaneously in plain sight. A woman was sewing a rainbow scarf, another blushing at her from across the street. He chuckled to himself when he saw a punch of kids playing tag around him peacefully as he walked, their caregiver calling after them like they were dogs gone loose from the shelter.

He reached the forest with a sigh, looking into the deep wood. He breathed in the crisper air, better than that in the town, with its corrupted ways. He saw a deer in the distance, grazing as it tried to find a field. He smiled to himself, taking in a final deep breath before turning around to walk back to where he came from. The world let him be a part of it on his own, not forcing him to be the main character of a story.

Virgil saw Anxiety standing in the middle of the square, holding onto a large sword with green and purple glimmering on the sword in the sun. He waved at Virgil with it, people looking at him with large eyes.

"Where did you get that?" He asked. Anxiety chuckled, handing it to him.

"The blacksmith over there, he really doesn't like how the construction workers are being forced to fix the castle." Anxiety explained. Virgil looked at him wide eyed, brushing his hands along the barrel of the large sword.

"Let's get this dragon witch."

A Distorted Reflection | Virgil SandersWhere stories live. Discover now