The next morning, Archer stood at the edge of the Abyss.
His flying contraption was strapped to his back, the wind ruffled his red hair, and the Abyss yawned before him, empty, dark, and whispering secrets of a place never before explored by man. Never explored, mostly because to do so would mean death by the Keepers; it was strictly forbidden to go near the pit unless it was for offerings. And yet... Archer's curiosity called him forth, to envision, to explore, and it would not rest until he had SOME sort of clue as to what lay in the Abyss.
Namely, his parents.
Looking down, he felt his body sway slightly, as if he could tip over at any moment, plunging headfirst into what was known as the gate to the Underworld. He shuddered, knowing that this was NOT such a thing, but simply at large crater formed by natural disaster... or a god's wrath. Either way, he was going to glide above it for, while exploring INSIDE the Abyss was forbidden to avoid angering the god of the Abyss, Cratas, no one had said anything about exploring the SURFACE of the Abyss.
Which was exactly what Archer was intending to do, when suddenly, strong arms grabbed him from behind and dragged him away from the edge, holding him in a grip like a vice.
Startled, Archer thrashed wildly against his captor's iron-like grip, but managed to get absolutely nowhere before he was mercilessly thrown to the ground. Peering up, he looked to see the robed figure of a Keeper, his eyes like fire as they glared at Archer.
The man's head was shaved and on his forehead was a rune of some sort. His robes were black, unlike the traditional blood red robes of Keepers, his black attire marked him as a Head Keeper. He was responsible for making the offerings and sacrifices on the Day of Shadows, and he was by far the scariest person Archer had ever laid eyes on.
The Head Keeper leaned close to the boy, his robes smelling of inscense, his breath of something foul. Archer noted that the rune on his forehead gleamed a dark red; blood against pale skin.
"And just what did you think you were doing?" the Keeper hissed, his thin lips pulling back in a snarl to reveal yellowed teeth. His whole face was like a skull, cold, lifeless, pale.
Now, Archer was usually one to look on the bright side of things, but he could not seem to find a bright side here. "I was... looking around?" he tried.
"And why do you have that contraption strapped to your back?"
By Thredas' great wooly beard, not much got past him, did it? Archer was trying to think up an excuse that would even make SENSE when the Keeper hauled him to his feet and dragged him over to the edge of the Abyss. Imediately, Archer heart did the sensible thing by nearly flying out of his chest, and the boy fought to keep from whimpering. Now he wished he'd brought Pip or Cogs with him, rather than sneaking out at dawn, telling no one where he was going. Perhaps he would have had someone coming to his rescue about now, and not be hanging by the collar of his shirt over the Abyss.
Oh well.
Once more, the Keeper leaned in-- something that Archer really wished he would stop doing-- and sneered, "What were you doing beside the Abyss?"
Archer thought about it for a moment, the gears turning in his head with rapid speed; if he told the truth, he'd die, if he lied the Keeper would know and he'd still die. Either way, it was not a very promising outcome.
"I was going to explore." he said quietly after awhile.
The Keeper seemed surprised that he told the truth, yet the surprise quickly turned to a look of pure triumph. "And do you know what the punishment is for exploring the Abyss?"
'Doesn't everyone?' Archer wanted to say, but he knew it would only hasten his trip to the Underworld, so he stayed silent. Instead, he looked at his impending doom with a brave face; never once crying or sniffling. He wasn't particularly happy about this sudden demise, but he would face it with a bit of dignity, at least.
"Would it interest you to know," he said suddenly, just before the Keeper could toss him overboard, "That I'm Thaddeus Bram's son." Technically, he was his almost-son, but he wasn't going to point that out NOW. But the Keeper stopped, his face contorting into an expression of anger, then deep disgust, yet he did not throw Archer into the Abyss-- much to the boy's relief. Rather, he drew out a wickedly sharp dagger and began to cut the straps on Archer's flying machine.
Now, the boy really began to panic as the heavy weight was suddenly gone from his shoulders. "Wait, what are you doing--"
"Laws are laws."
Then the man proceeded to smash the flying machine to pieces with his booted foot. With every screech of metal being crushed and bits and pieces breaking, Archer felt his heart crumble and he cried out, "No! Please, stop!"
All the hours of hard work, all the pieces that were lovingly put together, now being reduced to a pile of twisted metal. The wings, so carefully crafted and planned-- now torn off and thrown to the side like garbage. Archer felt anger, hot as flame, tug at his chest and he lunged for the Keeper, only to be thrown back by a strong blast of magic from the man's fingertips.
The air was knocked out of him for a moment and he lay there, gasping, as the sounds of his invention being destroyed echoed in his ears. Eventually, it was over, and Archer got to his hands and knees and surveyed the heap of broken parts that had once been as though they were alive and breathing.
"Be glad it wasn't you." the Keeper hissed. Then he was gone, dissapearing as if he had never been there in the first place.
Runing his fingers over the dented metal and shattered parts of the machine, Archer felt as though a tiny part of his soul had been crushed along with his flying invention. All of its beauty and grace reduced to nothing within a matter of moments. Pulling at on of the wings, he dragged it closer to the rest of the machine. "It's alright." he said shakily, his body aching from being thrown and his heart aching all the more. "I can repair it, it's not that bad..."
But it was. And he knew it.
Archer was not sure how long he stayed with his broken machine. He was only vaguely aware of Thaddeus coming to find him, wrapping a blanket around him against the autumn chill. His almost-father did not ask questions, nor did he prod Archer for answers. He simply sat with him, not speaking, staring at the remains of the invention as the sun glittered off the bent metal.
Finally, Archer could stand it no more and said quietly, "I don't think I can fix this. Its gone. Our one chance, our chance to get out of the Midnight District, gone because I was an idiot."
"All true." Thaddeus replied brightly. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
"You mean revenge-wise?"
"Not nessisarily. I just meant are you going to sit here moping all day, or are you going to do something with yourself?"
Archer blinked, "Thaddeus, you can see the machine right in front of you; it's not something I can fix."
"Can you try?"
"Well, yes--"
Thaddeus then clapped him on the shoulder and looked deep into Archer's eyes, "Then, my dear lad, I suggest you try."
........................................
For the next few days, Pip noted that Archer remained locked in his room, coming out only for food and to take back his shirts that she had stolen from him. This sort of behavior was not unusual for her cousin, but it bothered Pip ever so slightly. She felt, at times, as though his inventions, languages, and books were better company than her... and while he DID have a point there, it was still rather annoying. She did not know exactly what had happened to him or his flying machine; only that he had come home one morning a few days ago with a determined look on his face-- always a scary thing. Then he had begun working and left Cogs to watch over Pip, as if she were some sort of child!
Either way, the two of them sat outside Archer's door listening to the creaking and squeaking of metal being straightened and the occasional sound of swearing as Archer no doubt accidentaly pinched a finger between a piece of machinery.
"How long do you think this will take?" Cogs asked suddenly.
Piper shrugged. One never really knew with Archer; he could be working for DAYS, never once seeing the light of day and always with a look of thought on his face. It was, again, just the sort of thing you had to wait out.
Possibly forever.
Looking over at Cogs, Pip wondered what it would be like to kiss him, just for the fun of it. By now, she knew he had liked her for some time and she never missed an oportunity to tease him about it. Cruel? Perhaps. But it was wonderful fun. Pip was sure his face would go all red and he'd stutter out some sort of reply and he'd look so cute...
As one might be able to tell, Pip did not have much experience with boys. In fact, she enjoyed the feeling of giving them a fat lip or a black eye more than she wanted to kiss one. Not like those girls who were always staring at Cogs and Archer and giggling, whispering secrets behind their hands as the boys innocently wished them a good morning.
No, Pip had only ever been in love once in her life, a fact that she'd told only Archer, after threatening him to throw him to the Abyss if he ever told anyone. The boy's name had been Thomas and Pip could still remeber the time he had beaten her in a footrace-- the first time ANYONE had beaten her in a footrace.
It was at that moment when she decided she loved him.
It was completely spur-of-the-moment, and Pip kept it secret from everyone. Thinking upon it now, she recalled the evenings when she and Thomas would lay out gazing at the sunsets, staying out until stars began to appear in the sky one by one and the moon rose like a silver disk on the horizon. Then Thomas would look at her, his amber eyes appearing to glow against his soft, fair skin, and he would smile. He told she was beautiful-- something no boy had ever said to her-- and Pip remembered the feeling of elation, as though her heart were soaring. She had kissed him then, under the stars with the moon as a witness, and he had kissed back; pressing them closer together and running his hands through her tangle of hair. After that, they had spent many nights together in such a way; nights of stolen kisses and warm embraces, all secret. All wonderful. Thomas told her he loved her and, for the first time in her life, Pip had said the words back.
Then, the very next day, he had plumeted off the edge of the Abyss, knocked over by a careless Keeper.
Pip never loved anyone after that. At least, not in the way she had loved Thomas. For days, she had stayed in her room, never shedding a tear till Archer came in and asked her what was wrong. Then it was as if all her emotion, pent up until that moment, came rushing out in a torrent of tears and she had held on to Archer as she cried, telling him everything.
Now, as Piper looked at Cogs, she wondered if she would ever like him back, or if she simply enjoyed teasing him too much.
Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by a clang of something metal being dropped, followed by an onslaught of swearing.
Cogs gave her a look, "I think we should go."
Pip nodded; perhaps, at least for now, that would be best.
...................................