Clockwork Romance

A Clockwork Tale

Written by Matthew Lee

Inspired by Philip Reeve's Hungry City Chronicles

Chapter 1: The Great Celebration

The sky was a breath-taking orange and gold as the sun made its daily descent to the east. Huge timid clouds hastily strode over PaƩi's magnificent skyline; eager to bring rain. The Spring breeze whispered softly against the pellets of blooming flowers, drifting some into the air. Night was about to begin and with it, a massive celebration like no other. The Frankish's flag was going to fly high tonight; soaring with birds into the velvet night sky amongst beams of shooting light from the city streets. Across the continent from every direction, Francia's glorious colors would be seen. Francia's tricolored flag was composed of Red and Blue, the ancient colors of the city of Paei herself, followed by the "royal" white at the request of the Franco Dynasty centuries ago. Symbolically they represented the society that the city had always nurtured. The white belonged to the Clergymen of the Trinity Church, the Blue to the rich merchant class of the Bourgeoisie, and the royal Red to the Nobility and Aristocrats families that govern the city. Paei's flag flew from every doorway, every window, every store front and street corner. Flapping from the hands of every child and elderly alike in unison. Scores of confetti rose into the sky as fireworks exploded in the air. Tonight was their night. Tonight was Paei's night.

On the other side of the city, where no flags were flapping, or bright beams of light shooting into the sky stood the Chalks Estate, on its last limbs. Trapped in the past, the Chalks' mansion still bore the scars of a war fought long ago, during hard times. Untouched by the rapacity and pretentiousness common among many of Paei's aristocrats, the Chalks Estate composed of nothing more than a humble old mansion; amongst several tall trees and a rusty steel fence encircling it.

There, a young girl sat in front of the mansion's window; dreaming about the adventures yet to come.

Alice Chalks, didn't care about tonight's celebration, no matter how; her attention was ensnared at the mechanical beauty in the grasp of her fingertips. It was a old pocket watch; rusty from years of abuse and use. Playfully she twirled the watch by its chain, admiring the way it's rusty copper shell reflected the sun's rays in the right angle. In a way it was her own golden sun; a sun that brought warmth when her heart was frigid and memories to conformed her when skies were gloomy. To think that the springs, gears, and other mechanical contraptions that brought life to this small inanimate object is now used throughout the world in just about everything brought her a sense of astonishment and wonder. She held a true treasure that only inventors could understand; an encrypted secret that only they can decipher with their mind and their knowledge. Her eyes watched intently as the long hand struck twelve while the short hand remained on six. A small frown inched across her greasily oiled covered face. Soon it would be time again for her to attend another meaningless party hosted by fat rich aristocrats' whose ignorance cost the lives of the people they swore to serve. Thinking of their gluttonous sins made her cynical of the world and cynical about her own privileged upbringing. Disgusted, she pocketed the watch and returned her attention to the dreaded schematics in front of her.

Unlike most adolescent girls, Alice didn't squander her time away by chasing older boys or painting her face in wild colors in a process normal girls call "makeup". It just wasn't the way she was. Alice was and always will be an Inventor. It was in her family blood! It solidified their fame and legacy within Paei and the Franco Nation. It gave them wealth and food while others less fortunate paid the ultimate price. It was the Chalk's Family's survival, their mark upon the world. But one could say Alice was bitten by the Inventing Bug a long time ago. As farthest as Alice could remember from her childhood, science and gadgets always defined her as a person. It drove her insane and motivated her to levels because of the burning passion she had for them and the drive to figure how they work and what they could be used for the betterment of all Franks.

"Okay, I promised myself I would finish this design before Dad came home. If he does." Alice said to herself; biting her inner lip in surrender after catching herself staring blankly at the darkening clouds. Alice, a daughter of the famous Inventor Michel Chalks, had always wanted her father to be proud of her, as the loving eldest son she didn't turn out to be. Michel Chalks always kept a watchful eye on everything Alice has ever done in her life, guiding her to the destiny she was destined to follow. It was the only reason why her father forces his daughter, the eldest of his children, so hard by constantly drilling her on advance mathematics, the different sciences, and literature that even University Professors would have trouble with. It was one of the ways Michel showed that he loves his daughter.

Seconds passed, then minutes. The sky was darker now with barely any sunlight remaining. Alice's pencil laid in her hand, unused. She ran her fingers across her cinnamon colored hair, without realizing she was smearing oil over it. She didn't care however; unlike those aristocrat girls who were yell and scream every time the wind kissed their hair. She stared out the window, watching from a distance the neighborhood lamplighter doing his work. Her green, emerald like eyes watched as he flicked and ignited the beautiful flame. Alice couldn't recall how long she had stared out her window at the vast changing landscape around her; all changing from the dying shades of sunlight and the coming of darkness. All she knew was it brought joy and calmness to her whenever she needs it; whenever she did this. It was very lonely at home even with a slimy brother like the one she has. The Chalks' Estate was quite large and very old; no place for young people to grow up in. In a way it felt more of like a retirement home for senior citizens rather then a real home for a family. But nonetheless Alice grew up in this place and called it home. She was very proud to do so. Alice grew to love the distinctive smell of the kitchen along with the annoying creaking sound the wooden staircase makes when you run on it. She loved everything everyone hated about that Mansion. But sometimes even these dull moments when her mind is blank and unable to provide an answer to a question could really get her Capricorn. This one in particular was more painful then she ever experienced. It was different, and she didn't know why.

More silence, more boredom, more loneliness followed.

"Waiting for a flash of inspiration here Almighty! Amidst all this sweat and boredom!" She declared out loud, throwing her hands in the air in despair.

Silence.

She closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for an answer.

The Almighty didn't reply.

"I'm not surprised!" she said aloud.

She stood up; stretching away all the cob webs of boredom off her body, yawning. She wasn't surprised at all. Alice stood there alone, feeling stupid because she couldn't solved the problem, her problem, the problem presenting to her that not only questioned her intellect but her passion as an inventor. Slowly her blood began to boil before she exploded in bottled up rage!

"THIS IS NOT INVENTING!" she yelled, snapping her pencil in half in blind anger. Her eyes targeted the source of it, like the crosshair of a gas rifle ready to kill. She felt the halves of the broken pencil slip away involuntarily from her fingers has she reached for the meaningless paper stretched across her table.

"NOW GET OFF OF MY DESK!" she snapped, ripping the large sheet of paper off furiously. Alice smiled devilishly as she crumbled the schematic slowly with her hands, enjoying the sound the paper made as she did it. The aspiring inventor threw the half crumbled schematic on the floor like a murderer would to a dead corpse.. She stomped on her victim, playfully mimicking the rhythms and movements of an Espadish Zapateado dancer beat for beat, stomp for stomp. Her work boots ripped and torn the complex schematic into ribbons and pieces in a mess of paper and oil. She didn't stop in till every individual piece was torn and painted with motor oiled footprints. By the time Alice did, there was about a hundred pieces scrambled all over the floor like islands dotting a sea of oil.

Alice paused, thinking about what she had done. No doubt her father, Michel Chalks would be furious at the sight of his creation ripped to pieces by his loving daughter. Her eyes unfolded the mayhem she had inflicted in her madness. It was the same old story. Alice clenched the sides of her pockets angrily.

"AND GUESS WHAT? YOU'LL BE BACK ON MY DESK TOMORROW!" she spat, breathing heavily from her unintentional exercise.. Her voice echoed, bouncing off the thick metal plating walls of her family's workshop. Silence befell soon afterwards. The silence that always came before the storm. The sudden sounds of approaching footsteps startled her back to life.

"Uh oh! Berkley.."

Alice quickly kicked the ripped pieces of her "beloved" schematic under a dark corner of a desk as the footsteps came closer and closer to the door. Alice snapped back into her seat, fixing a few rogue stains of long hair on her head as someone knocked.

"It's open!" she muttered

Alice got up before she could see Berkley's head poking out from the other side of her door. The speedy butler entered in; more like a doctor during an emergency then a Butler. She swallowed hard. A scowling was in order no doubt. And much shame would fall on her and her devilish actions.

It was the same old story.

"I heard this entire yelling Mademoiselle; and I thought someone- Oh no! Not again Mademoiselle Alice! Please tell me you didn't do it again!" Berkley moaned, eyes closed in a desperate hope of avoiding his eventual fate. Alice was mortified as her eyes guided her to what Berkley was holding, a broom and a dust pan.

"Berkley, I suggest you leave the room with your eyes closed. It's ugly. I can clean it up myself." Alice warned, ashamed to be called Mademoiselle.

"Oh but it's my pleasure, Mademoiselle." Berkley moaned, opening his eyes wide at the horror. Silently he swept up the rebel sheets of scrap paper and crushed juice cans his Mademoiselle littered all over the workshop. Alice felt uncomfortable in her dirty blue and oily black overalls in front of her Butler. She felt un-girly, unfitting as a girl, and felt more like a fat Bork rolling in mud and its own feces; calling it play time. She didn't however regret her decision, only embarrassed. Embarrassed for herself, and for Berkley, who had to serve for this Bork of a Girl as a caretaker!

"Where did you hide it Mademoiselle Alice?" Berkley stopped, pondering where she hid schematic this time.

Alice frowned uneasily, not at the schematic but at poor Berkley, the family Butler who always had to clean up after her; without complaint and always in silence. He was like her shadow, since the day she was born. She motioned to the direction of her victim, buried under a heavy wooden desk beside a dark corner. Speaking not a word of anger for his beloved Mademoiselle, Berkley quietly placed the broom and dust pan against the door. He moved emotionless passed Alice to the heavy desk that hid his objective. With his ancient fingers he latched on to one side of the desk and desperately tried to pull the desk out of its position.

"Let me help you Berkley!" Alice rushed over eager to lend a hand to her long time friend. Berkley sat a patient eye on Alice from behind his work.

"Mademoiselle Alice I believe you have done quite enough this evening already." Berkley stated bluntly, increasing his energy on the stubborn desk.

"I'm sorry Berkley, I didn't mean to trouble you every time I do this." Alice said sincerely. Berkley released his hold on the desk, and turned to face her, breathing heavily, sweat rolling down his cheek.

"Then why do you do it Mademoiselle? Why do you destroy what your Father gives you?"

The question stunned Alice silent for a while as Berkley rested his back on the desk, folding his arms. He was trying to cycle air into his weak lungs; hard work like this wasn't meant for an elderly like himself. Alice dug her hands into her pockets pondering for an answer. Berkley's gaze fell to the floor in regret. The Butler didn't want to push the question any further then he had to make the point.

"I guess I..." Alice couldn't give him an answer. She didn't know one that felt right in her heart. Was there any plausible reason for destroying the work of someone you love?

"I'm a monster." was what she wanted to tell him

"I'm sorry Mademoiselle, that question was out of line and uncalled for." Berkley apologized, pulling out a white handkerchief. Sweat droplets were starting to form on his forehead from the humidity trapped inside the workshop.

"I should never question your-" Berkley jolted back as he saw a glance of his Mademoiselle's oiled smeared face. He quickly withdrew another handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Alice, whom received it with open hands. She wiped her face vigorously, smearing the dirt across her skin before she noticed it.

"Dab with it, Mademoiselle." Berkley intruded, showing her the action.

"You were only looking out for me Berkley. I understand. And I love you for it." Alice shot her Butler a weak smile. Berkley shot her back and returned to his grueling task. Alice dabbed the handkerchief, leaving a clean dot everywhere she dabbed.

"Mademoiselle you better get ready. We're sure to be late for tonight." Berkley said, positioning himself for his heavy task.

Alice crumbled the handkerchief, and pocketed in rising anger.

"I got to tell him."

"Forget it Berkley, I'm not going."

The statement echoed. Alice quietly scrolled across the workshop collecting tiny scabs of litter and hoping she would not have to repeat her objection.

"But Mademoiselle the celebration tonight is going to be attended by Paei's greatest. Musicians, Artists, Doctors, Generals you name it! The Duke personally invited you and Monsieur Niccolo to attend!

Alice's position did not change.

"He even had an Military escort accompany you to the celebration!" Berkley pleaded without looking at his Mademoiselle as he pushed with all his might. The fear that he overstepped his jurisdiction once before ran down his spine.

"Berkley I thought you said that you'll never question my actions and decisions again?" Alice challenged in a kittenish tone in a vain attempt to stop the conversion at its present course.

"Mademoiselle, Monsieur Michel insists that you attend. It is out of my control."

Alice felt a slight sting in her heart. If her father insisted that she goes, she goes. There was no use fighting it, it would be fruitless and would only serve as a wedge between their already strained relationship.

But Alice was a fighter.

Plus her curiosity got the better of her; what was so great this time?

"What is the celebration about this time? The Duke's daughter received a new pet again?

"No."

"Her old pet died?"

"No"

"The Duchess has a new statue erected in her likeness?"

"No"

"Then what is it Berkley?!"she finally exploded asking, stomping her foot down in annoyance.

"Mademoiselle Alice, tonight is Princess Annelle's 16th birthday. A celebration is in order for this momentous occasion!" Berkley said in a patient tone, in contrast to Alice burst of emotion.

Alice felt her lips tighten when Berkley put emphasis on the word "momentous". To them, everything was momentous.

"Tell them we politely decline!" Alice snapped in an unusually loud tone even for herself. Her eyes told Berkley she was sorry before she headed for the door.

"Mademoiselle! Be reasonable! Please! The Duke would feel insulted if you didn't attend! Princess Annelle would be depressed that her good friend Mademoiselle Alice Chalks didn't attend! She personally sent an invitation to us for you."

Alice stopped with one foot already out the door. She wanted to confront that outrageous statement and clear things up to her beloved butler.

"Good friend? I don't even know her! All she wants to do is make fun of me at her party for being the Inventor Girl that no boy wants! It happens every time!"

"Mademoiselle, the Duke's specially appointed escort would arrive anytime soon. We can't turn him away! Not with harsh words and insults to the Duke's Daughter! The punishment and shame brought upon-"

"Oh yeah, well you just watch me Berkley!"

Her words trailed off as she stormed out of the room with her loyal butler trailing behind her.

"Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle!" Berkley's voice echoed down the luxurious hallway, falling deaf on Alice's ears.

Berkley trailed after her, his old bones feeling the effects of age.

Niccolo Chalks didn't like how he looked in a frock coat; he thought, staring at his reflection off a mirror taller then he was. The young boy felt older, but not in an admirable way. The hideous outfit reminded the boy of something Berkley would wear doing his chores around the estate. It was tight around his frame, even for his weight. Even worst was the fabric, which irritated his skin like no tomorrow. The biggest nightmare of all was the bow tie he had around his neck. After what seems like hours to fix on his neck (with a little help from Berkley of course), Niccolo felt like he was being hanged everywhere he went. He was sure he couldn't put up with this for the rest of the night, let alone this moment. It felt as if someone with a million Clucken feathers were ticking away at his neck at once as a form of torture.

"You got to go." He mouthed as the bow tie easily unraveled with one pull. He tossed it back into his drawer and slammed it closed with relief. Niccolo popped his collar and gently scratched around his assaulted neck in relaxation. The feeling was very much welcomed by the young boy; whose attention returned to his reflection pasted on the sheet of silvery clear glass.

A splitting image of his father; down to the green eyes and the cowlick on top his brown hair. And like his father, Niccolo never liked wearing anything ceremonial, conservative or tradition to anything. Casual was their way of doing things. It was the Chalk's way of things. Unfortunately choice of clothing is tragically the only thing that Niccolo shared with his father. And even that was changing slowly, after his mother's untimely death. He was too young to remember what took her beautiful life from the world, and was even younger to understand why. His memories were usually smells, voices and gentle pats on the shoulder. Voices that never left his ears. Smells that never left his nose. And if he tried really hard, he could feel her gentle touch still lingering on his shoulder; warm, caring, loving, ghostly, never to leave his side as he goes through the trials of life. That was all he had of his mother. Quietly the boy sat down and closed his eyes. He was desperately trying to hold on to the images he had left of his mother. As the days go on her face became fainter and blurrier. Niccolo saw only a blur now.

His eyes traveled over his surroundings. A dead room, ancient, and cold in demeanor. The wooden walls had this decaying smell that just keeps you awake at night. The boards on the floor creaked every time you walked on them. But the worst was the door, which would get struck every time it shut, by accident or on purpose. It drove Niccolo crazy. That was home. The Chalk's Estate; where only the dead and dying lived.

"No offense Berkley." he thought

Niccolo wished the family would come to its senses, and demolished this blaze hole to the ground and get one of those Aristocrat villas looking over the crystal blue sea; similar to the ones they rent every time they travel with their father. A house that was modern, exciting, lively. A bed that was soft, a kitchen that was spotless. A home that felt like home. Alice would never let that happen of course.

Perhaps, Niccolo thought, perhaps she remembered when the place was warmer, and livelier. Perhaps Alice remembered their mother.

Niccolo smiled, fixing his collar back into place. He turned to his sides, inspecting if anything was wrong. He gazed downward and tapped his shiny black shoes in approval. Frank cliffs scorned sleeves looked excellent on him and very professional when accompanied by a rose clipped to the breast pocket. Niccolo gazed back at the mirror.

"Niccolo." he said, pausing for a moment to fish out a comb to comb his hair. He pocketed his comb when he was done and returned to the stunning young boy in the mirror.

"You look like a imbecile tonight. I hope you're proud of yourself."

The image of his father dressed in the same identical outfit that came into his mind made the young boy shriek in horror. At less, that was what happened when his mother made them dressed in the same outfit for Alice's ninth birthday. Back then Niccolo was only three and was completely oblivious to the world around him. To him the world was simple; breakfast, playtime, lunch, playtime, dinner, bath, sleep. There was no war, no dying, no killing in his young naive world.

Niccolo lost a mother because of it. He was ten now and a lot smarter about it.

The sound of Alice's voice was like the screeching of a chalk board in Niccolo's mind as his sister ran passed his room. Like a crazed banshee, she was yelling the word NO! NO! NO!

Niccolo rolled his eyes in embarrassment as Berkley trailed after her, holding his hip in discomfort and growing pain.

"If she's referring to tonight, I'm going to kill her. I've suffered tonight; you're going to suffer tonight." Niccolo grinned slapping his face when he saw his reflection.

"Berkley it's useless, I refused to humiliate myself for the "good" princess' amusement! I REFUSE!"

Alice found her fruitless escape from suffering, well, fruitless. Her mad dash for freedom had led her to a dead end down the hallway. From the corner of her eyes she saw the long shadow of a butler creeping behind her.

"Monsieur Michel would not be pleased Mademoiselle, and he told me to do whatever it takes to convince you to go!" Berkley moaned in discomfort.

Before the young women could reply, a voice, similar to a caged dog barking, captured her attention.

"Like blazes if you do Alice! I did not dress myself up for amusement!" Niccolo yelled with his head peeking out into the hallway.

She paused, a smirk growing on her face. It was the sudden spark of inspiration that only Sirius and the Almighty can give. Perhaps it wasn't as fruitless as she originally believed.

Alice dashed into his brother's room, recklessly, before her butler could trap her.

"Hey watch the suit!" blasted Niccolo as Alice pushed him out into the hallway.

"Are you alright Monsieur Niccolo?" Berkley asked in the sincerest tone possible. Berkley gave his beloved Monsieur a hand up from the ground.

"I apologized for the state of the floor. I should have washed and scrubbed it last night." Berkley said, dusting away the dust from Niccolo's priceless outfit with a pocket brush.

"It's not your fault Berkley." Niccolo replied smiling, cleaning his pants. His graze fell upon his room and he could ready feel his blood boiling.

"Alice! Your attending even if you like it or not!"

Niccolo motioned his butler to follow. It was useless for his big sister to run; the both of them got her trapped.

"Alice!"

"Mademoiselle!"

The two quietly sneaked in, fearing that Alice would be crazy enough to attack them with something; like a pillow perhaps. The two scanned the room as they entered. There wasn't a sight of Alice anywhere. She disappeared like a phantom in the mist.

"Monsieur?" startled Berkley

"Berkley- OH NO!"

Niccolo was too late. Alice had escaped from her hiding place behind the door and swung it home as she escaped. Alice felt her cheeks stretch into a devilishly smile as furiously pounding and yelling erupted behind the large door. She took deep long breathes before jumping up in triumphant victory. The muffled yelling behind her grew louder with each landing.

"I'M GOING TO TELL THAT ESCORT THAT WE POLITELY DECLINE!" Alice yelled, cupping her mouth at the door so the two can hear her amongst their yelling. The sound softens as the two tried to listen.

"I'M SORRY BERKLEY! I'LL CLEAN UP THE MESS! I'LL LET YOU GUYS OUT WHEN I'M DONE!" Alice moved, before freezing in place

"NICCOLO DON'T HURT YOURSELF! YOU KNOW THE DOOR CAN ONLY BE OPEN FROM THE OUTSIDE!

Alice ran off as the sound of pounding and yelling renewed itself.

Alice felt her hand being pulled apart reaching for the last piece of her beloved schematic. She cursed under her breath as she felt the paper's corner just out of reach of her fingers tips.

The sudden sound of the door bell cause her to slam her head on the bottom of the desk with a loud crack!

Rearing in surprise, Alice quietly moaned in pain as she rubbed the growing lump on top of her head. She checked to see if there was blood when the bell rang again. Alice stood up, a little dazed as she checked herself. The overalls, work boots, and undershirt she had on were smeared black from lying on the floor. Her face and hands were greasy from today's work along with her hair ruined; turned into a Bird's nest. The door bell rang again. Alice felt that familiar feeling that torn her schematic up, and trapped her family.

"I'm going to make him pee in his pants." Alice smiled.

She quickly bounced to her feet and ran out her workshop, almost slipping at the process.

She rushed down the spiral stairs to the first floor and creped ever so slowly to the door. The door bell rang again a third time. Alice felt the impatience from that one.

"He must be furious by now." She thought, as she slowly unlocked the door, and positioned herself to the side of it.

The bell rang again, a fourth time, followed by the sound of a turning doorknob.

"Surely Monsieur there's another way! Perhaps less-" Berkley choked as the sound of the chair crashing against the door rattled over the room.

"Perhaps less violent?" Berkley swallowed hard.

"Not enough time Berkley. She's going to scare him away if we don't stop her!" Niccolo stated, smashing the wooden chair at the door again.

But who can blame him? The sound of the door bell ringing a third time put the young boy on edge. The Butler closed his eyes as the enraged young boy brought the chair down at the stubborn door again and again and again; in till one of the legs broke off from the impact.

"Monsieur be careful!"

Niccolo dropped the broken chair on the ground gently. He felt Berkley's friendly, caring touch on his shoulder.

"Don't be angry Monsieur, Mademoiselle Alice would release us once she's done. Then perhaps maybe we can still catch up to the Escort when he leaving."

Niccolo's eyes were drawn to something over in the corner of his room, old and forgotten. It was covered in a white sheet and perhaps maybe it was this that kept Niccolo from discovering it.

"Mom was covered in a white sheet."

Berkley's eyes opened in horror as Niccolo approached the dusty bookshelf.

"Berkley can you give me a hand with this?" Niccolo pleaded as he lifted the side of the bookshelf with little trouble. A book, ravaged by time and covered in dust fell to the ground from the force of the young book tilting it's home.

"Coming Monsieur!"

"A bookshelf with only one book?" The boy pondered.

Niccolo's eyes drew to the unique seal painted on the cover. It was a long vertical line crossed by two shorter horizontal ones, of which the first vertical line on top was shorter than the proceeding one on the bottom. Niccolo had seen it from somewhere before, maybe in his history book.

"You have to pardon my hip, Monsieur." Berkley said, interrupting Niccolo's train of thought.

"I'm quite old to be doing this, Monsieur." said the old man, lifting the shelf up with a little effort.

Niccolo smiled, fixing his eyes on the door.

"Its sturdy enough to hold." Niccolo said positioning the two directly a few feet away from the door.

"On the count of three, Berkley."

"Perhaps we should wait for Mademoiselle Alice too-"

"THREE!" Niccolo yelled!

The two rushed at the door in full speed, hoping that their new battering ram would work.

Alice held her breath as the door opened.

"Bonjour?" said a male voice, alert in tone.

Alice leap out like a feral animal bold and sudden, bearing her teeth and hands in a fashion similar to a Leo springing for prey. She looked liked a wild animal, covered in the black blood of her victims and brown fur; whose face was painted a color of both. With arms poised to attack, Alice thought she was frightening...

Blue.

Blue was her favorite color; it was also the color of his eyes. Eyes as blue as ocean, piercing into her soul. Blond hair as golden as the rays of sun, warm and well gloomed. Tall and muscular; as if Nature herself had chip and carved him out from her mountains. All the elements were neatly wrapped together in a ceremonial uniform.

Alice thought he was breathtaking.

Her previous blood thirsty gaze gave way to a look of dreaminess in her eyes. It was the sense of wonder that could only be one of nature's inventions. For a moment both of them just stared into each other's eyes, unmoving.

Blue and Green...

Green and Blue...

Perhaps they were both startled, shocked by each other's appearance. This was probably how eternity felt like, to never know when something good would end.

The young man cocked an eyebrow; breaking the two out of their hypnotic trance. He didn't smile as he stepped back to look at the number outside of the door. Alice felt her muscles loosened. He nodded in approval and stepped forward. He was at the Chalk's Estate; looking at what he did not know.

"Berkley the door bell stopped ringing! That means-"

"AGAIN MONSIEUR!" Berkley yelled ramming the shelf into the stubborn door; which this time finally gave away. The door swung off of its hinges dropping to the floor in a loud BAAAM. Niccolo quickly leaped over it; racing to the front door.

"Monsieur be assured I will fix that!" Berkley said, dropping the bookshelf gently as he took deserving air into his old lungs.

"Forget it Berkley! We'll buy a new one!" Niccolo screamed his voice fading as he dashed down the stairs.

The aging butler felt his weak lungs filled up with air and his hip snap back into place when he stood up. He poked his head out into the hallway to make sure that Niccolo was gone; and that he was alone. Quietly he walked over to the dusty book that Niccolo saw drop earlier, whom seemingly forgot now. Gently he blew the dust off of the cover; coughing relentlessly from the flying dust in the air. He gazed at the bluish cover of the old book; perhaps as old as himself. The golden seal gleamed in the light, heavenly in appearance and ghostly in state. Memories of the past flushed into Berkley's mind as he held the book closer to his face. He traced along the edges of the seal with his fingertips. The symbol stood for everything he ever loved and cared for. Long streams of tears fell down the side of of his old wrinkly face as a flush of emotion overcome his weary old body. Showing a vulnerable side he always hid from the public and his masters, Berkley placed his lips on the book and kissed it; like a grandchild would to his grandparents.

Alice was unable to deliver her message; she was too stunned to do so. Instead the only words to come out of her mouth was a placid "ah" of confusion and uncertainty. The arms once poised to attack dropped lifelessly to her side. The young man, whom Alice guessed was a few years older than herself, finally broke the unconformable silence.

"Bonjour? You must be Mademoiselle Chalks."

Alice snapped out of her trance as she heard the approaching footsteps of her angry brother, a few floor above her.

"We must humbly decli-"

The young man motioned her to stop as he offered his hand to her.

"Luther Wellington, Lieutenant of the Commonwealth; at the requested of Duke Alexandre of Paei himself.

Alice's mind froze. It was the kind of dilemma that played against the knowledge of the mind and tugged the strings of the heart. She couldn't upset a person who had held out their hand in friendship. Alice guessed that was how she was in the world. Her mind told her that to reject him; and just slam the door at his face. Slam it with such a ferocity that it would scare him cold. She didn't have to tell him anything; she'll just let her actions to the work. Her heart told her something else.

The young man they called Luther Wellington had his hand suspended in mid air in front of her, open, welcoming. Her eyes moved to his smiling, reassuring face, without a hint in them that they were staring at someone strange or different. Wellington must have believed he was staring at the face of a monster, plagued with disease and battle scars, with black flesh and brown fur; at least that was what Alice thought. Instead, Alice saw the eyes of a potential friend, and a genuine human being, unprejudiced, nonjudgmental. Her heart told her to go for it; her mind told her that there was no going back once she did.

"It is quite a honor, Monsieur Wellington." Alice said, stuttering a few of the words when she gave her hand to him.

He held her hand in a firm grip, shaking it up and down like a gentlemen.

"The Duke warned me you were quite the Inventor Mademoiselle. But I must compliment that your hand is as smooth and as soft as the finest silks across the land."

"Oh no! Theres no need to-" Alice said as the bold young lieutenant took her hand to his lips and gently kissed the oiled smeared area of her knuckles.

"That's kind of disgusting..."

"...Yet kind of cute too!" Alice said to herself, smiling in her head.

Wellington gently let go of her hand as Alice tried desperately to come up with something to say.

But everything was already said and done. She looked like an idiot while this young lieutenant of the Commonwealth was stunning in complexion. Their eyes met again as Alice opened her mouth in a failed attempt to explain herself. Yet however, she saw that he was not looking at her anymore but at some distant object she could not see.

"AH! Monsieur!" cried Niccolo as he grabbed Wellington by the hand and shook it generously, like an admirer would to his Hero..

Alice thought the action was very impolite and ungentlemanly.

"You must be the dashing Monsieur Niccolo Chalks! It's an honor to meet you and your sister." Wellington said smiling, looking at Niccolo and then at Alice.

"Likewise!" Niccolo said in a loud tone, elbowing Alice to the side with the same force she did to him as he guided his guest to the guest room by the sleeves.

"We have much to discuss while my sister-" Niccolo stared back at Alice, whose face was an image of physical pain and building rage.

"-gets ready for the Great Celebration tonight!"

"We still have enough time for Mademoiselle-" Wellington turned, smiling at Alice with his dreamy, ocean blue eyes; which made Alice feel a little funny when she smiled back.

"-to look her finest!"

The two carried off into the guest room with the demeanor of long time war buddies, out of her sight. Alice held her hand up into the lamp outside and admired the print that Wellington left on it.

"This is going to be some night Alice." she said to herself before quietly shutting the door behind her.

The sound of chatting echoed throughout the house when Alice felt a hand upon her shoulder. She turned to meet Berkley's smile.

"I knew you would change your mind Mademoiselle! I'll prepare the hot water immediately."

"Thank you Berkley!"

Berkley bowed politely and journeyed up the stairs to the Mansion's bathroom. Wellington's voice carried into the distance; echoing effortlessly throughout the mansion. He spoke with such confidence that one couldn't help but become ensnared.

Curiously, Alice sneaked closer, hiding behind a wall which separated the guest room from the rest of the mansion. Her eyes peaked at gallant young soldier sitting disciplined on her couch; who spoke to her brother about his experiences on the battlefield.

"Niccolo, have some restraint!" Alice said to herself at the thought of her brother forcing Lieutenant Wellington to share personal experiences. Niccolo was always into warfare and the military; Alice blamed herself for not drilling science books into his life, but rather let him explore the meaningless concept of history. It was always the same for the siblings, in everything they did. Alice always looked towards the future while her brother always fit the urge to drive into the meaningless past.

For some reason Wellington's voice suddenly dropped in volume to only chatter. Perhaps he decided not to disturbed their home perhaps? Or maybe it was because he was sharing some of his most intimate moments with Niccolo. Alice's felt her heart beat faster as she drove closer to find out. She moved as silently as she could, trying to minimize the screaking sound her dirty boots made on the floor. She placed her hands and head on the wall as she moved closer and closer its opening. A part of her head stood out before she could hear what Wellington had to say.

"You see, I too, was present during the Battle of-"

Alice jolted forward when she felt a hand rest upon her shoulder. The sudden action startled Niccolo and Wellington now staring at the direction of the sudden movement. Alice stood there, featureless after being discovered. Her eyes traveled to the hand that touched her, Berkley's.

"Mademoiselle, I don't mean to startle you but your-"

"Startled?" laughed Alice nervously. Niccolo eyed her menacingly, while Wellington merely cocked an eyebow.

"Startled? I was not startled! I was just tensed from Monsieur Wellington's-"

"Luther, Mademoiselle, Luther." Wellington shot her a smile, something that made her even more nervous,

"Well, Luther, I was just SOOOO tensed at your description and experience on the battlefield, especially in the Battle of...-"

Alice cursed in her head when she fell into the trap. She felt her knees give away and her strength slowly leaving her body as her mind stumbled to conjure up an answer.

"-in the Battle of... of-"

"January 8th." Wellington said

"Yes I merely forgot the date that was all!" laughed Alice. Her efforts to hide her intend was a failure, everyone knew it except for her.

"I was just curious about hearing an account of Monsieur Wellington's-"

"LUTHER!" Niccolo yelled, winking at Wellington.

"Monsieur Wellington's-" Alice gazed at her brattish brother hellishly.

"-experiences during that outstanding victory for the Commonwealth!"

"But ah Mademoiselle-"

"Alice, the Commonwealth lost that battle." explained Niccolo, smiling at her disposition.

Alice bit her tongue, trying to hold her anger and anxiety in. She fell her soul sank to the bottom of her existance.

"We not only lost the battle Mademoiselle, but we lost the war!" laughed Wellington, who was soon joined by Niccolo and Berkley.

Alice did not know what to do, so she joined them; abit too late when she did as the laugher was already beginning to die down. In the end, she was the only one still laughing. Still nervous, still embarrassed, as her family and friends watched her, with a smile on craved on to their faces.

Niccolo had a faint picture in his mind of what Wellington was describing; a chaotic image of Cannon fire, explosions and approaching death. His ears were glued to the Wealth's every word.

"One of our commanding officer had forgotten the ladders and fascines need to across the canal and to take the Earthworks. It was so dark and foggy that the only light we could see came from the explosions around us. Our troops couldn't see the Rebels, but the Rebels did. They fired at the direction of the screaming, and the prayers."

"Then what?!" Niccolo asked, blood pumping with excitement.

"Most of us flung ourselves to the mud; the ones who didn't were killed from the gas-musket fire and shrapnel." Wellington paused, muttering a silent prayer to his lost companions. Niccolo followed him.

The two didn't speak when Berkley entered the Guest room, carrying a tray of hot Lemon tea.

"Merci beaucoup!" smiled Wellington, grasping the tea with open hands. Niccolo waved his cup away as Wellington took a generous sip. The soothing warm liquid loosened Wellington's strained throat after minutes of talking. Niccolo watched as the Wealth nervously flicked out his pinky in accordance to mannerism. Niccolo felt an inner laughter in his heart. The daring Lieutenant Luther Wellington, a young veteran of the Commonwealth Loyalist - Rebel War, had not feared death on the Battlefields of New Oceans, but sweat at thought of insulting the strict customs and mannerisms of Paesi - Franco culture itself.

"You don't have to be so polite Luther."He tried to comfort him.

"But Monsieur Niccolo it is my pleasure to-"

"We are not Franks to begin with, Luther." the boy said smiling.

Wellington cocked an eyebrow before gently placing his cup of tea on top of it's saucer. His bluish eyes looked at the confident young man next to him.

"Then were do the famous Chalks hail from Monsieur Niccolo?"

"Niccolo would do just fine Monsieur Wellington." smiled the boy.

The freezing cold water pricked at her skin as she buried her head into it again. A couple of seconds passed before Alice brought her head up, grasping violently for air. The water had clear her mind of the embarrassing predicament she walked herself into. Alice ran a white colored towel through her hair and face as the thought of Niccolo's snickering face pierced into her thoughts. Her "Brother" as people called him, took delight in embarrassing her in every moment in her life. Alice never looked at her Brother as well, her Brother! Biologically they shared the same heritage, but spiritually they were as different as Day and Night.

Alice quickly discarded the blacken towel as she stripped off her overalls, undershirt, boots and undergarment in a whirling tornado of clothes. The cold evening air attacked her bare skin as she made her way to the luxurious Romano-Style Bath in front of her. She dabbed her big toe at the hot water before slowly submerging herself in it. She cursed silently under her breath as the water attacked every part of her body. Normally she wouldn't have this amount of spare time on her hands and would enjoy every rare moment she had the time to take a bath. Alice didn't have enough time to enjoy this one.

She quickly grabbed the bar of soap and rigorously scrubbed her hair, ignoring the messages of pain sent to her brain. The water around her quickly began to darken from the filth that covered her body during the day. Alice shrieked at the sight of it and quickly swam to another spot in the bath. Alice twisted her head slightly at the sound of the bathroom door quietly creaking shut behind her. In her mind she smiled, knowing that Berkley was guarding the entrance outside. Her loyal, understanding butler would rather first see the face of death before letting anyone she his Mademoiselle unclothed. She gently slapped herself after realizing she had left the door wide open before. It was so unfeminine of her to do so.

After more scrubbing Alice could see her hair regain its cinnamon-like brown color, and she turned her attention to her body. Most of the dirt and oil were already off of her as she made one final sweep of her body. Alice quickly washed herself off when she noticed her skin was beginning to turn red from the heat of the water. Alice pitched her nose shut as submerged into the bath before quickly surfacing. Hurriedly she bounced on her feet and out of the bath to a nearby shower. Her feet almost tripped walking on wet tiled floor as she turned the shower head on full blast. Jet streams of freezing cold water exploded on top of the young girl. Alice shivered uncontrollably, as her skin cooled and lightened. She shut the showerhead off and quickly wrapped her body and hair in towels provided to her by Berkley.

Curiously Alice walked towards the door, pitching the back end of the towel that covers her body while balancing the towel on top of her hair.

"Berkley. I'm done." she quietly said; gently knocking on the door to alert her butler.

"One moment Mademoiselle."

Alice could just barely hear Berkley's footsteps as he moved to cover the main stairwell. Alice waited a couple more seconds before opening the door, just in case Niccolo had something under his sleeves. Her head peaked out into the empty hallway before she moved to the direction of her room. The towel balanced on her head dropped to the floor as she ran to her room. Water dipped in a wet long trail as Alice leaped into her room, slamming her door shut with the sound of clashing thunder.

Wellington laughed at the boy's daringness. Niccolo was seven years younger than Lieutenant but almost had the same cockiness and charm he had when he joined the 1st New World Loyalist Regiment or the King's Rangers as they were known within the unit. He was around the same age as Niccolo too when he joined them. Wellington was surprise to see a young version of himself in the young boy; like the brother he lost.

"You have to finish your story first before I tell you!" the young boy exclaimed.

Smiling, Wellington turned his gaze at his streaming cup of tea in front of him. Niccolo noticed him doing so, and watched very intently. The Wealth perhaps saw something in it that Niccolo didn't, something that only the Wealth could understand.

"I called out to our commanding officer amongst all the screaming and explosions many times; each time with no reply. It was only a matter of time before I realize that he was gone... along with all the other commanders."

"So what did you do?"

"I, being the oldest and most experience left in my regiment, took up command." Wellington stopped, unflinching from his gaze at the cup of tea.

"What were your orders?" Niccolo asked

Several moments would go by before Wellington responded.

"We stood there motionless for a while as our courageous Brothers from the other regiments stormed across the canal." Wellington closed his eyes as the memories came surging back into his mind.

His heart was beating so loud it drowned out the exploding artillery around him. The mud had darkened his skin and his uniform as the smell of Tetrafluoroethane assault his nostrils. Battle orders ran rampage all over the battlefield, confusing the young Cadet on what he was supposed to do. Desperately he cradled himself into a little ball as he felt the heat of artillery fire near his position. At the age of fourteen, the boy found himself in a situation where his life hanged on the of a sword.

Mud, heated from the impact of a Cannon ball splashed over him. The heat seared at his skin and uniform as the frighten Cadet choked on his words.

"Lieutenant Colonial!" he yelled hysterically

He heard no reply as another advancing wave of Britonnian Infantry spearheaded the attack on the Rebel Redoubt. Moving through the thick dark mist they couldn't possible see what they were charging at. Their battle cry filled the night as the sound of Gas-Muskets volley erupted. Instantly the first lines of attackers were cut down, only a few meters away from his location. The rest of the wave dropped to the ground as a second volley fired at their direction, killing anyone who wasn't fast enough to take cover. The boy closed his eyes as the sound of blasting artillery filled the night sky again accompanied by the nightmarish cry of the dead in front of him.

"Luther." Niccolo said as he placed a caring arm on the Soldier's shoulder. Wellington opened his eyes to caring face of the young boy next to him, smiling.

"You don't have to say another-"

"Their story has to be told. I have to tell it." Wellington said, nodding his head

"As I laid there cradling myself in fear, many men threw their lives selflessly at the Rebels. At that moment I asked myself, "Are you alive Luther? Would you live as a coward for the rest of your life? Or would you fight? Not for yourself, but for your Brothers in Arms?". I still thank the Almighty for giving me the strength to keep cool; to keep my mind clear from the chaos all around me. Laying there I notice the volley and artillery pattern the Rebels were using. I tried to pass the knowledge as best as I could to my regiment, whom was crazy for what I was about to do."

"Luther stop leaving me in suspense here! What the heck did you do?!"

On one knee, the young Cadet surveyed what remained of his regiment. More then half of them were lost or wounded from the battle. Like scared Sceap, they looked at him, the only surviving commanding officer on the battlefield, unsure of whether to follow him or not too. Quickly the Cadet drove for cover as another volley fired at his direction, followed by Cannon fire seconds later.

He got up quickly shouted with all of his breath.

"BAYONET CHARGE! FOLLOW EVERY SINGLE STEP I BLOODY TAKE AND SPREAD OUT."

He drove to the ground seconds after the pattern barrage erupted again. Feeling his left shoulder, the Cadet discovered that his was just lucky enjoy to avoid a stray musket ball that could had wound him around the neck area.

"GET READY! CHARGE WHEN I CHARGE!"

His words echoed into the rainy night as the sound of Artillery erupted and Musket fire.

"CHARGE!" he yelled jumping to his feet.

"I don't know how many of them followed me into Hell's mouth. I was sure that most of them turned tail and ran in the opposite direction. I couldn't blame as much as I hated them, we were barely adolescent and we were already facing the threat of our lives."

Wellington grabbed his cup and took a quick sip. His throat welcomed the warm liquid happily.

Suddenly the sound footsteps rattled above the two as heavy feet pounded the creaky wooden floor above them.

"That's Alice, don't worry just continue!"

Wellington knew how his tale of courage and loyalty had mesmerized his new friend. He was too young to understand, by the Lieutenant was happy he could entertain him.

"I drove to the ground just as the third barrage was about to begin. I remember looking behind me and surprised that most of my Regiment had followed me, their new leader who was barely higher in rank then them. We waited for the moment to happen. The moment where we would get revenge for the lives lost and taken on January 8th. Our moment came too soon, and we quickly narrowed the gap between us and the Rebel's position. Other regiments who had seen how far we gotten followed our every movement, and so were about the save distance from each other. They had the ladders necessary for climbing the walls. I remember how we had gotten the ladders to the walls and had begun scaling it. Lightning and Thunder increased as the more us scaled over the wall. It was as if the Almighty granted us all of his fury and wrath to us to punish the Rebels. Fighting for the most part was a blur in my mind."

Wellington took another sip, finishing his cup of tea.

"I guess when another person is next to you trying to bloody gut you, your brain doesn't take time to remember every detail. I remembered however how surprised I was at the ease of a bayonet's ability to enter human flesh. For what was hours and hours of gun battles and cannon fire boiled down to a simple duel with knives and bayonets. Those of us who didn't have a sharp weapon used the butt of their Gas-Muskets and bludgeon the enemy to death."

Wellington froze and the image of the coming memory.

"This Rebel was about my age, and he was on top of me with his knife over my throat I held him back with my musket, trying to push him off. The look on his face frightened me even till today."

"How?"

"It was the look I had on, Niccolo. The look of a young boy who thirsted for vengeance from the lost comrades in the war. He was willing to give his life to do so, just like I was prepared to do. I managed to hold him off long enough to unfasten my bayonet."

He felt his strength slowly draining away as the Rebel aggressively pushed his knife closer and closer at his throat. The Cadet resisted, holding his attacker's hands in place with his musket. The Rebel grunted, his eyes filled with blood lust. He pushed harder, inching the knife closer. The Cadet slowly moved his hands to the edge of his musket to unlock his bayonet as Rebel's knife came crashing down!

In one swift motion, the Cadet thrust his hand into the knife, holding it in place. He yelled in pain as the knife when into the flesh of his hand and exited out into the other side. Blood streamed down on his face from his wounded hand as he pinned his attacker's knife in place. The attacker tried his best to pull his bloody weapon out for another shot by the Cadet fought his weapon still, embedded in the palm of his hand.

The Cadet freed his bayonet from his musket and jabbed wildly at the Rebel's ear. Repeatedly, the long steel spike sled in and out of the side of the Rebel's head. He watched as the young Rebel's eyes rolled back, lifeless. Wellington kicked him off and pounced on top of his corpse, stabbing wildly.

"We had managed to take ourselves atop of the parapet and take the redoubt; but without any reinforcements we were forced to retreat. News of Britonnia's surrender came just as the Rebels were about to execute us. My brothers that died during that attack, died meaninglessly. The war was already long over before our gambit was even planned."

"Don't blame yourself, the news back then spread slowly in the war zone."

"We sailed off of the New World hearing the gloating Rebels sing and dance in victory. It was the darkest moment of my life."

A "classic" style little black dress was the only thing that Berkley had left for her in her room. Alice didn't know a whole lot about fashion, or whether this type of dress was appropriate for this occasion. It was the only dress she had! Plus see looked good in it, at least that's what she saw in her reflection anyway. She found her little black dress to be elegant as well as simple. One of the reasons why was because she loved to wear skirts when she was younger. The dressed allowed her to move freely without feeling awkward like some of the heavier dress women wear. It was the perfect dress for dancing also, due to the shorter skirt it made it impossible for partner to step on her dress.

"I hope he will invite me to dance with him." Alice smiled, closing her eyes to imagine the picture.

The little black dress was essential to a women's wardrobe, every girl knew that. It was a rule of fashion for Almighty sake!

Alice broke away from her day dreaming to finish the task at hand. She combed her hair as best as she could with the amount of time she had, straightening it to the best of her abilities. Carefully she twisted her hair into a ponytail and wrapped it in place with a hair band.

"Tonight Alice." she said to herself, as she looked side to side, examining her hair.

"Try to act like a young woman for the sake of your family tonight."

She reached for the bottle of perfume on her desk. Normally she hated the strong smell of the exotics fruits, seeds and oils used to create perfume. She felt unnatural wearing the smells of other objects; well at least objects she never saw or heard of before. Her eyes quickly travel down the list of ingredients used to concoct what she was about to put on her body. She recognized some of them as she went.

"Apples, Cherries, Lavenders, Honey, Oakmoss, Agarwood, and Musk."

Her mind stopped on the word, Musk. What was it? The sound of the word Musk, didn't conjure up any pleasant flowers, plants, or fruits she had ever heard of. Musk sounded like the bacteria and rust that built up around the gears inside GREC that she would scrape out by hand. Alice wasn't going to enjoy Musk...

She got up from her chair and sprayed the perfume away from herself. Slowly Alice walked into the pink mist that materialized in front of her. Personally, she didn't like how most woman applied their perfume by just spraying it on to your bare skin. It came off as if the wearer was over applying it. Alice didn't want to be avoided and laughed at as the walking odor tonight.

Alice for the most part wore the same pair of shoes to every formal occasion; a pair of strapless black court shoes. They took some time to grow comfortable with, but eventually Alice walked so easy with them it was like walking with her bare feet. She put them on and took one last look at the mirror.

"Not bad for a girl." Alice smiled

Her happy expression exploded into a worried look as she raced outside of her room. Down the twisting hallways of the Chalk's Mansion she ran, athletic and graceful in her steps.

"Berkley! Wait!" she said as the butler approached her direction, holding the dirty clothes she carelessly littered in the bathroom.

"I'm glad you here Mademoiselle! We have to talk about your cleanliness and your-"

Alice snatched her oil covered rollovers and withdrew something from it's pocket.

"Thank you Berkley!" she said as she flung her overalls back to her butler.

"Mademoiselle that was uncalled for!"

Alice held the item firmly in place because she didn't want the object damaged in any way as she recklessly raced back to her room.

She walked towards the mirror, tying the small golden chain around her neck. The pocket watch hung around her chest area where the fiber of her dress curved to form a U, the area were a person's heart should be. She caressed the watch as she gazed at the reflection of the mirror. For a minute even she had lost her perception of who she was. The reflection reminded her of how a young version of her-

Berkley knocked on the door, breaking Alice's trance.

"Mademoiselle, are you finished? Monsieur Wellington and Monsieur Niccolo are losing their patience."

Alice smiled, twirling around playfully.

"How do I look Berkley?"

"Exquis Mademoiselle!" Berkley bowed.