The Storm in my Heart: Part 1 of 2?

by Unknown

Back to Creative Arts.

Unknown2012-03-19 23:16:36
Before I went into my latest retirement from Lusternia, I wrote Part 1 of a story I was really excited about developing. Sadly, I became too busy and lost the motivation to finish the rest of the story. I just wanted to share it here, get some feedback and see if there may be any interest in seeing how Part 2 unfolds. Well, Part 2 isn't so much a 'sequel' as it is another point of view of the events of Part 1. You'll see what I mean. I know how Part 2 will go in my head, but it's always more enjoyable to put things down onto paper when you know someone else may enjoy reading it too!

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The Storm in my Heart

To this date, I still don't know why he was crying when I woke up that morning, looking up at his gentle face in the soft light of the sun. I was stirred awake by the sound of voices drifting in and out of my head. Opening my eyes, I saw him standing there by my bed. I smiled. "Good morning," I said. That's when he began to weep. I was confused. "Why are you crying?" I asked, but he only shook his head and held me tightly. I didn't question him any further.

My name is Yulia Lars, and I am a designer within the Ministry of Cultural Affairs for the City of Hallifax. Not many of my kind choose to go into this profession, opting instead to study the structures and properties of the spires and bridges I've helped to build. But from a young age I've always had a passion for the arts, to draw castles from faraway places and towers that spiralled high into the sky. So it was with great pride when I accepted the prestigious position of Chief Superintendent Architect of Connective Urban Structures for the Second Expansion of Hallifax, which was really just a fancy way of saying "bridge and stairway designer." Since Hallifax was suspended in the sky, the bridge and stairway system would be a critical component of the city's urban planning. However, as a graduate with High Distinctions from the Imperial College of Art and Design, I was very confident in my abilities.

Of course, designing blueprints and drawing pretty bridges is all very nice, but all of that would be useless if the structures fell apart in the real world. My strength laid in design and aesthetics - I was, quite truthfully, a horrid engineer. The Ministry was divided into several departments, and it was in the Department of Urban Design where I worked, but there was also a Department of Urban Planning, a Department of Structural Maintenance, and so forth. Therefore, the Ministry paired me with someone who could ensure that my bridges and stairways did not lead to the demise of hundreds of innocent people.

It was a warm afternoon when I was sitting in my favourite cafe with a cup of oolong tea in one hand and a book on floral fractal patterns in the other. Skybloom Gardens in Precinct 13, Ward 3 I believe it was... anyway, the cafe no longer exists as they've built an office tower or some other government structure over it now. It was very quiet and there was only one other person in the shop. I was deeply engrossed in my book, reading through a chapter on geometric patterns in crystal magnolias, when he came over and spoke to me.
"You're Yulia from the Department of Urban Design, right?"
I looked up from my reading and titled my head curiously at this stranger. "Yes, I am. And may I ask who you are?"
The man chuckled softly and held out his hand. "I'm sorry, I wasn't sure if you'd recognize me. I'm Tristan from the urban planning department. We're neighbours. In the ministry, I mean."
I vaguely recalled a male trill who worked in the office next to ours and who I'd occasionally pass on my way in and out. We may have exchanged a cursory glance or two, but never any words. I shook his hand and tilted my head slightly the other way, examining him from another angle.
"Ah, I recognize you now. You're that odd trill who decided to join the engineering research group."
Tristan grinned. "That makes two odd ones then, doesn't it?"
I blushed a light shade of magenta, and then took a sip of my tea. "Is there anything I can assist you with?"
"No, I'm all right. I just thought I'd introduce myself to you, since it looks like we'll be working together from now on."
I turned a cool shade of sapphire upon hearing this. "Working together?"
"You're in charge of designing the city's new bridges and stairways, right? Those are complicated structures, especially for a city like this. I have to make sure you don't end up sending hundreds of people plummeting to their deaths while they're crossing your bridges."
A flood of understanding suddenly came to me, and I nodded approvingly.
"Ah, so you are my new partner. It is a pleasure to formally meet you, Mr..."
"Please, Tristan is fine."
"Very well, Tristan," I said, closing my book and standing up to face him at eye-level. "I look forward to working with you in the near future to ensure the successful expansion of our city's connective structures. Now if you will please excuse me, my break is over and I must return to my office."
We shook hands politely once more. As I exited the cafe, crystal chimes ringing in the air, I could feel that he was still watching me as I turned the corner and disappeared from view.

The initial phase for the construction of the city was completed roughly two years ago, starting with the Matrix and the power generators to keep the city afloat. The construction of the outer wards soon followed, beginning in Ward 4 and working outwards in a vertical manner, like adding layers to an octagon. There were to be eight wards in total, the highest being one and the lowest being eight. At present, the outer wards are being completed and the city's infrastructure is being put into place. I am in the midst of finalizing some preliminary drafts for the much anticipated Spire of Lawgivers, of which I am very privileged to be working on. But back when I was still partners with Tristan, we created the bridges and stairways that connected Hallifax to the rest of the Basin of Life. The only means of getting to and from the city at that time was the elevator in Ward 8, and it would often reach maximum capacity, creating huge crowds of merchants and delegates waiting to get a lift. Thus our work was very important, but, I admit, also quite enjoyable.

Not long after our first meeting, we embarked on our first major project: the Ascent of Servitude, a spiralling staircase connecting the city to the Emerald Road far below. Designated for plebeian traffic, it would become a critical route for the transport of labourers and servants. The work was very straightforward. I designed blueprints, and Tristan evaluated them to ensure that they met Hallifaxan standards of quality, safety, and practicality. The Ascent project was a good opportunity for Tristan and I to acquaint ourselves with one another. We asked about our families, our educational backgrounds, our interests, books we've read, and our ambitions. Tristan was a good conversationalist, which wasn't surprising because he was also very popular with women, and some men. He carried himself with a mischievous demeanour, but one that was tapered by kindness. And I must confess, he had the looks to match too. He really was the odd one out of the other trill in the Ministry, now that I think about it.

Over time, Tristan and I developed a good working relationship. Naturally, one may be wondering whether it ever progressed beyond that. I am sorry to disappoint, but it certainly did not. In those days, and even now, Hallifax had a very strict caste system that determined who you interacted with and how you could interact with them. When I met Tristan, although we were both considered upper caste members, he was one caste below me. My family would never have allowed it; our reputation and standing within the city was too impeccable. Furthermore, my parents wished for me to wed a nice, scholarly gentleman; one who made great breakthroughs and published annual scientific articles. And one who was lucidian. Tradition and the continuation of our astute lineage were tantamount in our family. There were many reasons why the relationship between Tristan and I could not develop further. Simply put, although we were similar, we were still too different to be anything more than friends.

Three months after construction of the Ascent of Servitude commenced, it was time for Tristan and I to collaborate on the bridge that would ultimately connect Ward 6 with the eastern mountains. This project was much more challenging. I remember drafting up several blueprints for the design of the bridge. Some of them were bowed and graceful, like the necks of swans. Others spiralled gently like twirling ribbons. And some were simply flat but had magnificent arches and railings. Tristan looked at a few of the designs and nodded silently, as if communicating to me that they were good, but could be better. At others his eyes would widen excitedly, but after close inspection he would point out critical flaws in the designs that rendered them impractical. And for one, he cringed and asked me whether I was harbouring any murderous intentions. But finally there was a design that he took slowly in his hands, examined extensively up and down, nodding a few times, and then placed back on the table.
"I think we can work with this one."
I got up from my desk and walked over to look at the design with him. "It's not my favourite, but it works. The translucent glass creates the sensation of walking on air, while also creating a prism effect when struck by light at just the right angle. I took some of the advice you gave me."
"But there's still plenty of room to add 'Yulia's touch' to this one. See, like over here -" he pointed at an empty section of the bridge. "That would be a nice spot for some picturesque sculptures, or perhaps one of those twirling archways that you enjoy, don't you think?"
I looked down at the draft with a discerning eye. "I suppose. It could lend some majesty to the bridge."
"Good. Here, let's work on this some more to get it just right."
We ended up spending a good part of the day perfecting the design, going through sheets of paper and scrutinizing each section with a careful eye. Between the sketches we would chat about life and dreams and the meaning of existence, but I would always bring us back to task. At one point Tristan left to take a short break, and then returned with sandwiches for the both of us. I thought it was quite unnecessary. Finally, we produced a blueprint covered in notes and almost illegible scribbles, and it was time to visit the site.

The two of us made our way to Ward 6 and stood at the spot where the bridge would begin. The area was saturated with damp clouds, hiding the Avechna's Teeth that loomed to the east. Tristan walked over to the edge of the platform and peered over the railing.
"It's a long way down from here."
I pulled my shawl closer to my body and went to stand next to him, squinting into the clouds. "But you wouldn't have to worry about that, you have wings."
Tristan looked at me and grinned playfully. "Wings are no use if the winds will just blow you around. The mountains are notorious for that."
I studied the platform carefully and then ran through some quick simulations in my head, adding some notes to the blueprint. "This design really is the best fit for a bridge at this elevation and climate. The clouds would pose a major obstacle to any other deviations and render those structures useless."
"It's the perfect bridge."
A flock of birds passed overhead, unseen, and I pursed my lips in thought. I then remembered something that Tristan had said that we neglected to include in the design.
"You mentioned that the bridge could support some decorative sculptures of some sort. What did you have in mind?"
Tristan rubbed his chin thoughtfully, fanning his wings as he did. Finally he said, very matter-of-factly: "How about sculptures of us?"
I turned a muted shade of beryl and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "You don't mean to be serious, do you?"
Tristan laughed lightly. "We've put all this time and effort into designing the perfect bridge. Why not give ourselves a little pat on the back and have some fun?"
"That's a silly idea, Tristan."
Tristan shrugged his shoulders and turned towards the direction of the would-be bridge.
"Besides, it's probably best if the sculptures were of trill. It'd make more sense," I said, after a pause.
"What do you mean?"
"The bridge is going to be built in the sky, among the clouds, and the walkway is transparent. It's like flying. And we all know lucidians can't fly."
"But that's the beauty of what you're doing, isn't it? You can make it possible. Your imagination is what makes your designs so special."
"Yes, but I always ground my imagination in reality first. There's no use in getting one's hopes up for impossible fantasies."
I turned away from Tristan and studied the empty space where the bridge would be erected. Tristan placed a hand on my shoulder for a brief moment, and then took it off.
"That doesn't sound like you at all, Yulia," said Tristan, who was now standing close to me. "Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing is wrong." I took a step aside. "I've just been under a bit of stress to get this project finished. We can discuss the sculptures another time, but they are not an essential component of the bridge. In any case, I'm tired from working all day, so I think I will go home to rest."

Tristan and I parted ways that day without saying much else to each other. I took my work very seriously as a respected architect and member of the upper castes. Although I appreciated Tristan's insight and ideas, sometimes I felt like he did not take me seriously enough. As if the idea of an artist lucidian with an engineer trill was a complete joke. Well, I worked alone in my office the next day to finalize the drafts for the bridge, making sure to get every last detail right. I did not think to include the sculptures save for one of a lone trill Sentinel, for aesthetic's sake, destined to eternally guard the eastern entrance to our city.

Sometime later when I saw Tristan again, he was with another coworker, a new employee in the ministry. She was quite pretty, and her bronze feathers were always immaculately preened. On a few occasions I passed by the two of them on my way out, nodding politely in their direction but never once stopping to chat. What Tristan did in his personal time was not any of my business.

After the bridge was completed, I was transferred to another project and began working on the rest of the spires in the city. Tristan and I did not see each other very often, especially as we were both so busy with work. However, there was one other occasion, during a ministry-sponsored reception to celebrate the completion of the first phase of the Second Expansion.

It was early evening and the sky was cast in vivid streaks of lavender and orange. I enjoyed a few drinks with my colleagues and engaged in light conversation as we watched the sunset from atop the breathtaking Transcendental Aviary. Tristan was in attendance, but at the far side of the balcony and always occupied with at least two other people. A few members of the Ministry came up to me and congratulated me on my work. I couldn't have stayed for more than an hour before retiring to my chambers. But before I did, I visited the bridge one more time because the clouds were nowhere in sight and it was very clear, an unusual occurrence. At last, I could admire my work in its entirety.

The next morning was when I awoke to find Tristan standing by my bed. How odd, now that I think think about it. In fact I could hear other voices too, so he wasn't the only one present. I must have drifted off to sleep again, because after he held me I don't remember anything else, and when I was wide awake afterwards I was alone. What could be the reason? I've never questioned Tristan about it, and he's never shown any indication that anything strange happened between us. Ah! It must have been a dream. That is the only feasible explanation. Yes, it all makes sense now. A very odd and convincing dream indeed.

However... I do find myself thinking about those days with Tristan fairly often, even now. I don't understand it. It is like waking from a dream where you clearly remember the beginning and the end, but try as you might, you cannot recall the rest. It seems strange that Tristan and I stopped talking after our work on the Bridge of Wings.

Sometimes, when I look towards the sky on a rainy day like today, I see storm clouds approaching. But it is not the clouds out there that bother me...

End of Part I of II