Information

Anne Fray
Legacy Name: Anne Fray

The Bloodred Neela
Owner: Desolation

Age: 14 years, 2 months, 6 days

Born: February 23rd, 2010

Adopted: 14 years, 2 months, 6 days ago

Adopted: February 23rd, 2010

Pet Spotlight Winner
April 6th, 2010

Statistics

• Level: 6
   
• Strength: 15
   
• Defense: 15
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 13
   
• HP: 13/13
   
• Intelligence: 3
   
• Books Read: 3
• Food Eaten: 10
• Job: Unemployed

"The choices in life are never easy"


After several days of blistering heat, the northern city of Aldsilver began to take on the characteristics of a dumping ground. The smell of rotting vegetables seeped from alleys, gutters turned vile and viscous. Stray dogs wandered around and threatened pedestrians with their rotten teeth. A familiar odor covered the city: that of burning metal. It looked as if nothing had ever grown there, as if nothing could ever grow there – a metal wasteland. Witnessing this, one begins to understand the mentality of hot countries.

Anne soaked her body in a cold bath and contemplated over Mackey’s proposition. She had never been fond of the man and neither had he of her, but they understood each others importance and skills.

A shiver ran trough her spine as she meditated over the subject - she knew the importance of the project and what it would do to her career as an engineer, but aiding the military with dangerous warfare was the last thing she wanted to do, yet she needed the money, oh yes ... the dirty money. Nothing comes free of charge, especially not money. Some give up their health, their time, their dreams; most valuable of all, their peace of mind. “Am I any different,” she asked herself.



Better say nothing to death



The supervisor sits opposite Anne as he drinks his coffee. Never has he looked so lost in thoughts. Anne feels an uncontrollable urge like she has to say something: “There was some dispute earlier?”

Immediately she regrets having referred to it. She has stepped out of line. The supervisor leans towards her and his heavy brows almost meet in the middle.

“There was no dispute,” he says scornfully. A pause. He leans closer. Anne cannot quite make out what he says. Almost as a threat it sounds like: “You better deal with your own problems at the moment.” Anne swallows and like a little puppy that has made a mess of things, she pulls her tail between her legs.

Supervisor retreats his death like shadow and leaves. In her mind she damns her own slippery tongue. It wasn’t a good idea to upset the supervisor because she knows this won’t be the last time, she’ll upset him today.

Mackey enters the dining hall, he has a grim face. Like many other scientists, he doesn’t think much of hygiene. One would think that he had just received an electric shock by looking at his ruffled hair. His lab coat bears a coffee stain that has been there for the past month. Accompanied by a vile scent of chemicals, which he doesn’t seem to notice himself, he marches towards Anne. His steps are vicious and fast.

“How dare you decline, you impudent know-it-all?” he offends her, loudly enough to arouse the attention of all the people in the hall, “you’re in no position to be picky at this hour, you … you worth-for-nothing wench.” People are intrigued and start whispering while Anne remains calm. She knows that Mackey isn’t good with rejection, “I’m sorry William. I just don’t have it in me.”



"Accidents" occur



A week passed. These vacuous streets, labyrinth of asphalt and exhaust fumes, rusted buildings and street signs, lead her home. The key reluctantly denies to turn properly. The sun has heated the door knob and it burns Anne’s hand. She silently curses.

Anne, whose body is ready to drop out of existence on her couch, is twenty-four years old. Her flaming red hair is tied up in a messy ponytail and her gray-bluish eyes are filled with dreariness. She is tired and beaten. Not a single thought runs trough her mind, as she quickly falls asleep.

***

A loud banging on the door wakens her. Her limbs are hurting from the uncomfortable position she had fallen asleep in. She glances out the window - the sun hasn’t rose yet.

„Miss Fray, please open up!” screams the rough voice behind the door.

She hasn’t heard this voice before (Anne, who has a rather bad memory for names and faces, can always distinguish people by their voices). She lingers to the door and opens it. A small man with curly mustaches stares at her. His face displays anxiety. He lifts his hat, “Miss Fray, I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, but a terrible accident has occurred. I was told to fetch you at once.”

Anne can’t help but to ask, “What has happened, sir?”

“Please, we must leave at once. I’ll explain everything on the way.”

Anne felt uneasy but stepped out, forgetting to lock the door, and followed the gentleman. He led her to a black motorized vehicle, which looked out of place in these forgotten streets. She had ridden in something like this once before, when she was invited to dine with Madam Willows, a woman who liked to take care of her guests.

“Again, I’m truly sorry,” the man apologized again, his voice had now calmed down a little, “but Mister Mackey has requested you to his deathbed.”

“Deathbed!?” shrieked Anne, “What on earth?”


"Would you kill to save a life"


They arrived at the hospital when the dawn released the first rays of the sun. Anne had learned that the gentleman’s name was Marcus G. Mason and that he was a good friend of Mr. Mackey.

Mackey had worked on an explosive device, which he had hoped, he can control from a distance. But by some occurrence he had made a mistake and the explosive went off on its own, blasting him against the metal wall. He had serious internal injuries and death was eminent.

Anne heard her heart rapidly thumping, though she did not care much for the man, she was still compassionate. She feared to see him, not knowing what he looked like or what he had to say to her.

Soon they reached a ward, an ominous presence surrounded it. A nurse came out of the room and Mr. Mason stopped her, “How is he?”

“Much worse, I dread.”

Mason closed his eyes and sighed.

She entered the ward alone, for Mason did not dare. A ghastly sight lay before her eyes. The smell of burnt flesh covered the room which made Anne nauseate.

Withered words broke the silence, “Come closer!”

Like a machine she obeyed.

Everything that followed that sentence struck Anne’s mind. She had spent an entire half hour alone with him. She barely remembered the conversation, only one question filled her mind, “Would you kill to save a life?”


Doubts and Expectations


For reasons unknown even to Anne she felt obligated to fulfill Mackey’s last wishes. She looked out of the window of the zeppelin and wondered why William included her in his rather suspicious plans, when Mr. Mason put his hand on her shoulder and asked, “Why did he ask you to fly to Capital City?” Anne murmured in reply, “I wish I knew!” She had lied.

The ride lasted for five hours. Upon landing she feared for the unknown in front of her. The Capital was totally different from Aldsilver. The buildings were twice as high and they weren’t covered in rust but by a brilliant shine. Unlike the wasteland back home, here resided large and strong green trees. Trains, cars, zeppelins and machines corrupted the ones hearing with ear shrieking noises. The air, though not nearly as smelly, was filled with smoke and steam.

Mr. Mason led her trough crowded streets to City Hall, whereupon she realized how puny everything else seemed in comparison. This exited every single bone and cell in her body. She was in awe.

They were greeted by the councilor by the main entrance: “Ah, you must Miss Fray,” he shook Anne’s hand, “Welcome to Dyre! I hope you had a pleasant ride?”

The councilor, a man his mid-fifties, looked like a gentle person. He had a white beard that he often caressed, due to an incurable habit. He was well dressed and in great shape for his age. His eyes were like a child’s – big and filled with curiosity. His voice strong and clear not a single syllable was lost.

“They are expecting you!”


Whatever's up ahead?


Contented, she walked out of the meeting, a little gleaming smile appeared on her face, which unfortunately was quickly dulled by the last image of Mr. Mackey. She couldn’t have performed any more perfectly. She had fooled all of those rich snobs …pardon, politicians.

Like William had asked her, she convinced them that the project was unimaginable and, by-and-by his words, required magic to complete.

“How did it go?” asked Mason.

By now Anne had gotten to know this little man far better and her first impression had deluded her. He was neither shy nor plain. His words were sophisticated and always well-thought. His funky moustache gave him sharp facial features, which would be most likely unnoticed, if he had no moustache. He was well-mannered and far too often apologized for things he was not responsible for. Anne couldn’t think any reasons how he and William could have been friends.

“It went well, really well. Thank you for supporting me on this, sir.”

“Nonsense, how could I not!” he blushed, “where to now?”

“William wanted me to find a Sir Valente De Luca.”

Mason abashed. Anne swore to god that his moustache shivered at the sound of the name.

“Valente De Luca,” he spelled.

“You know of him?”

“Indeed I do. He’s a man of great power. It will be difficult to get a meeting with him.”

“In that case, I have great confidence in you, that you’ll manage very well,” She tried to boost his confidence. First it didn’t seem to affect him, but after regaining his composure, he agreed to try his best.

To be continued

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