3 months later

Sebun

Three months later, and I haven't dreamed a thing. Nothing like the phone and parchement, at least. The dragons and humans have settled on a peace treaty, signed in Coggsworth, which I learned to be like the capital of the Steam Districts, and therefore neutral territory fit to sign any treaty in. The weird feeling that I was to be in a war has gone away, and I have settled into life in Coggsworth. I work for myself, from Jessica's house, as a fur dyer and patterner. I'm good at my job. One of the best in Coggsworth, although there aren't many others. One day, a wolf came in, asking for an ice blue spiral pattern on his arm and tail. “Which arm," I asked. 

“You will know," he said. I looked and, well, he only had one. He had two arms, but his left arm was mechanical. Obviously, this wolf was from the technology half of the world. I asked him to pay up front, as I knew all too well the usual types in the city, and he did. He signed me a check for twenty marks, as was my fee. He signed it as 'Cyrus Reer."  I did the job, and I thought nothing of it. Until I saw him on the news.

***

Cyrus

I walked up to the podium, with my tongue out and panting, the wolf equivalent of sweating like an einherjar, an honored dead, on Ragnarok. The boxy video camera on a quadruped stand blinking a harsh red light at me to signal recording. I forced my tongue into my mouth and took a deep breath. “Predators, prey, ladies and gentlemen- and a little bit of all four, my name is Cyrus Fensson. Known to most as Cyrus Reer. I am the grandson of the most feared crime boss in the Mythos District, Unchainable. I live in the Northern, or Narja, district and I have endured many hardships. By now, you might have noticed my mythril arm. I cite that as proof. Now, for the reason I am broadcasting, live, to you right now, is um-“ I checked the sheet of flimsi on the podium-“To call a meeting with the members of the Council of Species, along with any regular members of the community that want to take my grandfather down. His rule over the north must be ended! We mu"- I saw a masked squirrel pull out a gun behind the cameraman out of the corner of his eye. I didn't register it until-

Sebun

I was listening to the wolf's speech in Jessica's living room, my workspace during the day, when she's catching up with friends and job hunting. I offered her a job, but we pretty much share the cash anyways, so it wouldn't be worth it except for a justification to charge more, and we didn't want that. For me, ten marks per body part dyed was bordering on overpriced. Ten for a pattern even more so. Anyways, I turned on the Picture Box, the equivalent of television, and checked the news, only to hear the voice of my client from a few days back. “mythril arm. I cite that as proof," he was saying. As he continued the monologue, I started washing the dye out of my hands. Then I heard the gunshot. There was no mistaking it. Sebun whipped his head to the screen as the wolf instinctively held his hand up to his face, and collapsed. The broadcast switched to a regular news program commenting on the speech. “First responders have been dispatched to the location," viewers were assured. A report a few days later proclaimed that the wolf would like, totally live. (The report was delivered by a border collie of fifteen standard years, a medical apprentice.) He needed some (hella) advanced cybernetics, though. His brain wasn't damaged in the attack, but his eye was (like,) practically gouged out. The doctors said that he was (totally) lucky that the bullet didn't go farther than his eye. He was to (like,) have a metal plate cover half his face to help him adjust to his new eye. Cyrus announced that the meeting will be held by his hospital bed.

I vaguely wondered if Unchainable orchestrated the attack. Probably. I wondered if Jessica knew.

Jessica

Oh, I knew. There was a TV at the fencing/material arts dojo where I go to relax. Golden Hare style goes great with a rapier. I was fencing with my friend Ezra at the time. The bear was no slouch when it came to sword play, but he was just no match for me, even without martial arts. I was beating him, as usual, when I heard the gunshot. I thought we were dead, that it was the front hall. But it was just the Picture Box. I flew home on the airship to discover Sebun washing his hands. I pulled him up the rope ladder to the airship, ignoring the shouts of protest. And we took off.

***

 Sebun

Jessica pulled over at the blacksmith, her pale gold eyes glittering. Why we had a blacksmith was beyond me, that was for Tolkien Quarter. Maybe it was just that part of town. The only way I could tell which hemisphere was which was by the huge city on one side. It didn't quite reach above the island, so we couldn't see it from the center of town. I didn't see it from the airship, either, so I guess it really was the Fantasy hemisphere.  Anyways, I stumbled along behind Jessica, muttering Japanese curses at her. I found it amazing that I still remembered my native language after all this time. Maybe cursing at Jessica helped. I have been doing that a lot lately. The blacksmith was run by a ram. A bighorn, to be exact. He was molding horseshoes when we came in. Obviously, the equines in this world still needed shoes. Heaven knew that every other animal did. “Mr. Thorson? We need to ask you a few questions.

***

Third person

“Shot? Unchainable's grandson was… shot?" They were almost done asking questions, and Jessica seemed satisfied. “Yes, Mr Thorson. You knew him, yes? What was he like?" 

“He was a cyborg living in the Mythos Quarter. That alone ensured that he was a loner. I didn't see him much after his accident, but I was told that he wasn't as cheerful as before.," the bighorn sighed. “It was the accident that ripped his arm off, you know. He was intent on learning rune magic, the so-called 'strongest' type. He drank from Mimir's well to learn. The price? His arm. Hephaestus made him a new one, made out of iron and steam and magic. It never was the same." 

“But that's good, right? He was favored by two gods," Sebun pressed.

“Kid, you don't know much about the Mythos Quarter, do you? Drinking from the well doesn't mean Mimir likes you. Hephaestus is making things for everyone, at any given time. Gods are a superstitious lot, anyhow. Being related to Unchainable doesn't do him any favors. Quite the opposite, in fact."

“Okay, Mr. Thorson. One last question," Jessica said, then paused. “Do you think you could make a custom order rapier? Along with a longsword."

Sebun turned to the hare. “Why do we need swords?" he asked.

“Well, we need to go into the Mythos Quarter. North, near the equator. In those mountains lies Cyrus. Something tells me he's important," Jessica said with confidence. 

“Here," the blacksmith said, interrupting what might have become a squabble. He laid out a row of longswords while Jessica gave him the parameters for her blade. Sebun tried blade after blade until- “This is nice," he said, holding his latest trial sword In two hands and tried a downward slash. The blade was midnight blue, trimmed in grass green. It was a nice contrast. The blade didn't quite meet the crossguard, instead curving inwards towards the flat of the sword. There were two grooves running down each side, presumably to lessen resistance when pulling the fine sword out of a wound by letting blood roll down. The hilt and crossguard were unadorned except for a large ruby acting as a counterweight. “Ahh, that is my favorite! I call it Green Darkness, or the Blade of Grass if I'm trying to impress other merchants. Will you buy it?"

“Sure. How much?"

“Three thousand," the ram said. That was enough. Sebun made more than that on a good week. He handed the marks over and held the sword, turning it over while waiting for Jessica. When Jessica finished her request, she exited with Sebun, who almost tripped on the anvil. A week, the ram had said. That's how long it would take to make the rapier. That gave the pair enough time to study the area that they were rushing into. After all, Sebun had thought to himself. If you were going to dive into hell, you might as well dive in prepared. 

***