Some Mech Story I Dug Up

Hey there! Just unearthing old writings and airing them out to dry. Deciding which ones I want to pursue and which ones are to be hung up and displayed as artifacts. It never hurts to have something to keep track of your ideas, and for me this website is an adequate place for it! So here’s yet another little fragment of a story. I’ll let it marinate in my head awhile before deciding whether or not to pursue it. In the meantime, here we go!

The man brushed off his hands as he glanced over the piece of machinery in front of him. “The Omni Altus Cor had perished without a word. There was no forewarning, there was no precedence. There was no last hurrah.” The age in his eyes shone as he spoke in shuddering sighs. “It just gave out without a word. No one knows what happened. All we know is that it’s gone.”

Veera looked at him apprehensively, then turned her attention back towards the towering mech. The resolve of its metal features seemed to bear into her with an almost human indifference. She suppressed the involuntary cold crawling through her veins. She had known the legends of what had happened to the last Guardian that had been built. Men had tried and tried and failed countless times, making monsters and starting sieges while leaving villages to burn in their wake. Rather than remember, they had chosen to bury those bad dreams. Thus, the Mechcropolis was born, and all who were born from the Isbeners’ hands came to die. 

The Master of Cogs coughed and unsteadily bent over to rest his back on the wall. Veera followed, sitting on the rock beside him. The desert head whipped around them, yet the silence was a permeating cool. The man blearily gazed up at the mech. Veera followed. She understood why the people of Savera thought that this would be their savior. This mech was easily the largest that she had ever laid eyes on. And that thought made her nervous. 

After a moment, the Apprentice of Gears returned with a waterskin and a pouch of glasskin. The man dipped his head in approval before taking a hearty swig of the water. Bringing the water down with a contented sigh, he held it out for Veera. She obliged gladly. As she drank, the man spread the pouch of glasskin. Veera could already spot the white powder residue on the edge of the bag. Pinching some out, the Master of Cogs lifted his tongue and let the powder fall snowlike onto the underside of his it. Veera could see his eyes gain a little life. With the most miniscule of grins, he shifted to face her and held out the pouch. Veera laughed. Perhaps once, fella. But not anymore. Veera nodded her head, and the older man only shrugged in response. 

All the while, the Apprentice of Gears looked nervously between the two of them, presumably standing at attention. The Master of Cogs seemed to have forgotten they were there. After a moment of making uneasy eye contact with Veera, the man seemed to remember. He cleared his throat and barked. “Oh, yeah,” The man gave a half-hearted wave in the direction of the kid. “You can go now.” 

As the Apprentice scampered off awkwardly, Veera snorted. The man seemed to notice and grinned with a glint in his eye. Then, within a breath’s moment, it was gone. “So you came here to see the Guardian?” Veera turned to him