Green Eyes

By Travis Kopp

Saeryn was orphaned and alone, with little left to fight for in the world: until the incident. After the chemicals had their effect on her eye she could see a world hidden to everyone else, a world peopled by the restless ghosts of a violent city. Under the tutelage of a famous inventor whose life ended years before Saeryn was born she learns to unlock the genius potential of her mind. But will she learn fast enough to prevent a person she loves from committing a terrible atrocity?

Green Eyes is set in the world of Atmah, in the city of Coterie. The city is the metropolis capital of its nation and it is a bustling enterprise. Factories spew smoke in the sky while large automatons called Stalfus wander the streets at the command of their owners. Dozens of ships come through the harbor in Coterie daily, and the flurry of activity at the docks is a sight to behold at any time. Electric light brightens the city at night as bars and taverns fill with locals and travelers alike.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Travis Kopp
• Release date: Jan 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301715619

Travis Kopp

I'm a twenty seven year old english major who has been writing fantasy stories since I've been able to put a sentence together. Atmah has been a special place for me and I can't wait to show everyone what that world has to offer.  I live with my wife in Newark, Ohio and we're expecting our son (my first) Rowan by the middle of January. I have so many people to thank for this book, and I'm quite proud of the result. 

Book preview

Green Eyes

Written By

Travis Kopp

www.traviskopp.com

Cover Illustration By

Verity Glass

www.anadapta-art.com

Copyright 2013 Travis Kopp

Smashwords Edition

Acknowledgements

I owe a great debt to everyone who has worked to make this book a reality. Thank you to everyone who read the book in its infantile stages. Your reviews helped make this world a reality. And special thanks to my team of editors, who made sure this is the best book it can be.

Thank you to Brent, David, PJ, Andrew, Wendy, Stetler and Katie. Without all the late night discussions of a world which existed only in my mind, Atmah would not be the world it is now.

To my muse and motivation,

For always believing in magic

Pronunciation Guide

Roetalin – Row-tal-in

Coterie – Coat-eree

Treisceart – Tries-key-art

Deisceart – Dice-key-art

Ennisduff – In-iss-duff

Seimar – Sigh-mar

Stalfus – Stall-foose

Part One

Green Eyes

Chapter One

The low hum of an arc-lamp and the clinking of broken glass were the only sounds in the little shop. Brightly glowing blue light from the ceiling made the drab wood floors and dusty shelves in the short room seem newer and cleaner than they were. The light washed out detail and cast, in shadow, the flitting shapes of the room’s two occupants.

A tall and awkward eleven year old girl had been cleaning since she awoke that morning by the harsh brightness of the lamp. Her employer was running around, returning overturned chemicals to their shelves and grumbling something about being seen. He lowered the intensity of the light and slammed the shutters closed. She shook, and stared at the open door as the ocean wind moved it on its hinges. Her eyes, an intense emerald green, shone in the glow of the lamp, dimmed though it was, and would look like gemstones to anyone who wandered in. She broke her gaze with a deep breath, looking back down to her task.

In that glow, her details were difficult to pick out. Still, the girl's distinct features were evident in the outline of her wide shoulders as they sharply shuffled a broom along the floor to clean broken glass. Her long legs seemed dull instruments by comparison, and her rough hands matched the old, knotted dark walnut broomstick in texture and color. The patched, wool tunic she wore was stained with various spills while her cobweb of black hair displayed her evident social status. In the dimmer light her skin was almost as dark as the shadow she cast, which only made her eyes flash brighter.

The last two years of her life had been spent in this little chemist's shop in Coterie, the world's largest city. Sunlight was rare to her in that time, as her employer preferred neither customers nor authorities see many details about his products. Most of the visitors to the tiny place were local gang members seeking their ‘fix’ of Dulcamara, a poison with a strong euphoric effect on its abusers. In this fashion had that particular morning progressed. She had opened the shop to the first three addicts, all who frequented their doors, and a steady line of them had crossed the threshold for the entire day. It was normal business, and the girl always assumed her employer made a very good living at it. It became an unusual day, though, just half an hour before she had begun sweeping broken glass from the floor.

That morning, a gang-leader came into the shop demanding mass amounts of the ingredients used to make Dulcamara. Mr. Croft, the shop-keep, insisted that they never sell bulk reagents; it would encourage too much competition. The young enforcer was not looking to be turned away, thinking his new plan to make the drug himself an inspired one. The giant of a man flew into a rage. He toppled over a shelf and threatened Croft to change the man's mind. But the chemicals that he let loose as one of the glass bottles broke on the floor stung his eyes, blinding him. He was spouting curses as he stumbled away from the scene.

Croft ordered the girl to clean the mess and she snapped into place, despite the vapors. The next few minutes were silent and tense. The employer paced back and forth across the loose floorboards, and the only sounds were the clinking glass and his footsteps. Even the street outside seemed to have become quiet.

In those moments the girl’s most striking feature seemed more evident. She stared at the doorway, nervously scanning each passing person. An open door was an unusual sight in Croft's shop, as the things going on within were rarely legal. She often wished for the door to be open, to feel the breeze and see people as they passed. The stark lighting and drab shelves were all she saw some days. Now that the door was propped open to vent the fumes, she wished it were closed, as the only thing the outside world could possibly hold was violence. She kept staring, barely even moving the broom. Anyone who looked in would have noticed nothing so clearly as the eyes looking back at them, beautiful, haunting greens contrasting the dark room like a cat's eyes at night.

This effect was most certainly lost on the angry man who burst through the doorway. Five other men crammed into the little room with him, and the smell of whiskey on them was stronger than any of the spilled chemicals. The giant stumbled toward the shop keep, his weight thrown off by his inebriation, and he pinned Croft back against the counter. Hail, and good greetings to you craftsman! He set his whiskey bottle down on the counter behind Mr. Croft, holding the smaller man back with his other hand. Actually, I believe I have already seen you once this day. Oh! I remember! You refused my money and sent me from your little shack with my eyes burning! The giant smiled and brought his flushed face closer to the other man's. "Now, does that sound like proper service to you Mr. Croft?"

The others laughed, immediately grabbed Croft and pushed the girl back behind the counter, trapping her in a little corner. The girl was held by one of the ruffians, smelling equally of drink, while Croft was forced on his knees and the leader once again walked forward, uncorking his bottle. Long tears were streaming from Croft's face as the larger man knelt down to his level. What? No words now, Croft? No stubborn refusals or harsh commands to your pretty little assistant? He poured the content of his bottle over the small man and took a flask from the shelf next to him. Croft whimpered and tried to avoid the blow, but the flask was broken across his cheek. It shattered, tearing flesh. Worse still, the acidic mixture reacted with blood, and Croft screamed as he clutched at the wound boiling with a white steam.

The girl had been struggling, and in the distraction of this horror she managed to wriggle free of her captors. She bolted from their grasp and ran as quickly as she could for the door, blindly flying to the only exit. Two very rough hands scraped the skin of her arms and caught hold of her tunic as she was dragged back into the darkness. Croft still screamed as the leader pinned her against the counter by her shoulders. His breath was sick and burning against her face as he spoke to her.

And you, little one, you could have warned me about that shelf, couldn't you? You knew what would happen when that glass broke. She stared at him, terror taking hold. Of course you knew. His eyes narrowed, focusing the best they could as he took in her terrified expression. Finally a smile curled up at the edges of his lips, making its way onto his bleary eyes as his blurry mind managed to produce a thought. Croft still screamed and the small girl's breathing had nearly stopped. Tears streaked her face.

The enforcer looked over at the mess of glass on the floor, and could still smell the fumes rising from his earlier tantrum. The girl began to stammer desperate apologies, but he was not interested in them. He pushed her back hard, knocking her head against the shop wall, which left her in a bruised heap on the floor. The man grabbed the nearest flask and threw it to the ground. As it shattered it released a thick sulfuric odor, and a light green mist. His eyes glowed with a mocking, empowered expression as he laughed and stood in the fumes. He looked like some devil rising up from a noxious mist. He knocked each flask off the shelf to his right and turned around, pulling another shelf from the wall. Glass began to snap, and the shop filled with a rapidly changing, stinging, acrid smoke.

His self-satisfaction quickly turned to pain as he and everyone else in the shop began choking on the vapors. Through nearly opaque smog he beckoned his men to bring Croft out, and they did so gladly. The smoke was flowing from the open door, but the large man latched it shut after using the wall to guide himself there. His eyes were watering and his voice hoarse as he yelled to the girl behind him, Well, maybe you know what this will do! Laughing in a rough, injured way he slammed the door closed.

All she could see then were the putrid fumes continuing to billow forth. Her head was spinning and she could feel blood running from her ringing ears. She brought herself up, summoning up all the effort she could manage to lift her body. As she reached her feet she took a deep breath, and her body rejected the putrid air, making her lungs spasm in opposition. She coughed uncontrollably and slipped on the liquid at her feet. She fell against the wet floor, knocking her head against the boards. Disoriented and in pain she kept coughing as she laid there.

Worst of all were her eyes. Each time she tried to close them a stinging pain would shoot into her temples. Those moments of pain were the most unbearable thing she had ever felt. When they were open, though, she could feel the acid burning at their center. It felt as though it was piercing through them. She tried to take one final breath to no avail, and she could feel herself fading. Her body stopped coughing and the already blurry edges of her vision were beginning to dim. The welcome numbing embrace of unconsciousness was finally taking hold. She accepted it with little resignation.

* * *

Her eyes shot open as footsteps echoed off the floorboards somewhere nearby. She could hear the door slam shut as she pushed against the cold wall to get to her feet. She barely managed to pull herself onto her knees as she felt a burning pain pierce her bones and muscles. Her back ached and her head was throbbing. She could feel something like liquid as she gasped for breath. Immediately, she turned and vomited on the floor by her feet.

She blinked, realizing that her eyes were open, but that she saw nothing. Tears began to form as she worried that this condition was not temporary, but she pushed herself up, and swallowed back the pain so she could stand. Her mind was a blur, her head was swimming, and she steadied herself against the damp stone behind her. Her body begged her to let go, and she slid down the wall once more, sitting with her long legs spread in front of her, rubbing her sore eyes. Slowly, as she concentrated, she could make out dark shapes in the room. She looked up and kept trying to see more. Finally, after an hour of this, she could see the arc-lamp on the ceiling far above her. It was dim, and looked too far away, but she could see it.

This victory aside, her head slumped over and she once more let unconsciousness take her. A few more hours of this rest and she managed to regain some of her senses. Her eyes were working by then. The world refocused and she realized how she had survived. The weak floorboards above her had caved in from the acids, and she had managed to fall into the tunnels below the shop. The fall had left the joints in her legs and back in a throbbing pain, but she was alive thanks to it. Her ears were ringing as the sounds of the world began to return, very slowly. Through aching muscles and a powerful headache, she stood up. This time she kept her footing.

The next hour of her life was spent in pain as she managed to climb out of the tunnels and back into the chemist shop that had nearly been the site of her death. Tunnels beneath the streets in Coterie could stretch on in winding circles that very few people knew how to navigate. Rather than take the risk of becoming lost, or being assaulted by someone living down there, she fought through terrible aching pain and pulled herself up.

The world was still blurry and it was well into the night when she reached the door. It gave considerable resistance to her pull, and as she managed to swing it open the hanging corpse of Mr. Croft stared at her with blank eyes. His face was bruised, his teeth shattered and his clothes blood soaked. His coat pulled at his underarms from the hook the men had propped him up on.

People walked by in the busy alley without taking note of the trophy. Either they were scared to make a scene or they actually took no note of it. The girl looked hard at the dead man and felt less emotional than she thought she should have. Perhaps it did not seem real enough to her in the haze she was in, but she felt as though his death should mean more to her. She could not linger there longer though, as even in her abused state she worried that the gang may return.

She turned and moved into the hurried and packed crowd milling through the alley. She was pale, blood had dried around her ears and her clothes were tatters. Perhaps it is a sign for the city itself that few even took note of the half-dead girl stumbling through them, as they could ignore the shopkeep hanging on his own door.

To her there was simply too much to note any of it separately. The dark evenings in this alley were always hazy from chemical reactions and industrial smoke, so, to her most things were little more than a blur. Hundreds of faces pushed past her, yelling things at each other in indistinguishable words. She simply shambled forward, relying on the sea of dull, gray beings to spread out; and most did. Everything around her had become too overwhelming to even react. She just kept walking, without even the thought of a destination.

She had no path, her feet were guiding her along without direction. The only sensation she would have been able to describe as she walked along was some warmth in front of her. Her body seemed to be pulling her toward whatever was making that heat, but the girl barely knew that she was doing so.

She wandered out of the alley and into a major street, Gate Boulevard, which was packed with larger blurs, and louder sounds. She shrunk down, crossing her arms in front of her and holding her body at the sides. After what could have been hours or perhaps just minutes of this she saw something that made her stop and look. A blue glow, like light reflecting off a pool of water, was emanating from someone in the blur. It was a dull light, but it was evident. It belonged to a short, very young boy. He looked around like he was trying to find something, but each step was taken as though he had never walked before. The crowd seemed to engulf him rather than split, and there were long moments that the young girl could not see him between the clumps of people.

She walked closer to him, crossing the street and trying to keep her eyes on his every movement. Her focus was starting to come back a little, and for a moment she was so worried about the little boy that her own suffering seemed to fade away. The boy started to avoid the crowds of people and a look of fear came over his face. He backed up against the wall of a nearby building and tried to keep clear.

As she came close, something changed in the little boy's expression, as if he had realized something. He stood contemplating, the anger in him rising until he threw a tantrum, and beat his little hands against the ground. The girl stayed back, unsure, as finally the little boy looked up at her. He had tears down his cheeks. He bowed his head and the edges of his body began to tear away from him. A strong wind blew from the sea and he quickly dissolved into a cloud of ashes which disappeared in the sky.

She snapped out of it. Something was so unreal about the whole event, something so terrifying, that it broke the traumatic stupor she had trapped herself in. Suddenly, the wave of bodies around her gained detail, and the full volume of the whole scene became apparent. Now, the dull sounds had become words and the shapes, individuals.

She was standing awkwardly in the middle of the road, inhibiting foot traffic going both ways. Most of those people were yelling at her, angry, telling her to move. She looked around, confused, desperate for something familiar. She had no idea of how long she had been walking or even what district she was in. A few people knocked into her, pushing her away from the sidewalk, and they nearly toppled her into the busy street. The ringing in her ears returned.

The girl fled as fast as she could to the nearest open doorway. She paid no heed to where she ran, simply that she escaped from where she was. Eyes wide, she began fumbling through the crowd, being pushed around as she tried to squeeze through. In the dark evening light she could see a glow coming from a place with large open bay doors, and she rushed toward that comforting sight. She felt warmer somehow, just for running to that brightness.

She had no time to take in her surroundings as she bolted through the doorway and jumped behind a stack of wooden crates. She sat there, her chest unsteadily rising and falling as she made a mad, desperate attempt to breathe. She managed to stay quiet as she calmed herself, trying to breathe normally. She could still feel the liquid in her lungs and her eyes were burning more than they had when she awoke. After nearly ten minutes of shallow breath she calmed herself down. She felt as though her heart was going to break through her rib cage, but she finally managed slow deliberate breaths.

There was some quiet conversation in a language she didn't speak in the room behind her, but it sounded as though the place was locking down. She hid behind a different box as a man walked within inches of her and pushed the large bay doors closed. He locked them and most of the lights were suddenly extinguished.

She leaned against the crate for hours. Her breathing had begun to settle as she found the darkness even more comforting than the place's light had seemed from the street. In here, she was finally alone, and for the moment, she felt safe. The outside was locked away and she was secretly resting.

As her body calmed, her mind focused on the day’s traumatic events. She suddenly realized how close she had been to death. Only luck had kept her from losing her life before it had ever had any meaning. She finally cried, tears quietly running down her cheeks as her throat seemed to close up. Leaning against the wooden crates in a large empty room she silently sobbed as her legs and arms drew closer and closer. She thought of dying with Mr. Croft as the most important person in her life. And she thought of the glowing boy she had seen turn to ashes. But mostly, she just cried until she fell asleep.

Chapter Two

The sound of the bay doors being opened forced her from a tenuous slumber. As they slid open she saw a hazy orange morning sunlight coming into the room, and she could hear a group of people talking in the same language she had heard the night before. She peeked over the crates and could see that she had stowed away in a mechanic's shop of some sort. As sunlight filled the room so did the light from steam engines being started, and so too did the many sounds of the building. She hid behind another box as the man closing the door walked back into the work area, and she peeked around the boxes to get a closer look.

It was an old brick building that must have been used as a warehouse in the past. The large bay doors were the same in the back of the building, and the ceiling was a little more than two stories high. Around where a second story would be was a metal walkway with a number of doors leading off of it. The rooms and the walkway were in a 'U' shape around the back of the building, keeping the high ceiling in the middle.

As the girl looked around another box she saw a long metal shaft running under the second floor rooms to the right of the door. One of the men flipped a switch and the shaft began to spin, powering the devices that sat below it. The man stepped over to one of them, using a hammer that was continuously smashing down against a kind of anvil to reshape a piece of metal. She heard hydraulics activating in the center of the shop and turned to look.

There, in the middle of the shop were two platforms where most of the men congregated. With tools spread around the men, most passed the time by drinking coffee while a device, clearly intended to be one of the tasks for the day was lowered into the working area. It was a stalfus. Its long mechanical legs disappeared into the floor as its chest came into center view. Its front armor plating was off and she could see all of the wiring and piping that led throughout its body. The hydraulics that made its powerful arms and legs work were all housed there, as was a long thin metal shaft, right where a person's spinal cord would be. Its head was slumped against its chest while it was un-powered.

There were drill bits at the ends of its arms, obviously indicating that it was somehow used in mining operations. The bits themselves only hung on by a series of wires, and there were multiple gashes in the hydraulics housed in the chest of the automaton. She looked past the men at a wall where at least three more of the metal monsters were being stored. Each one seemed in disrepair in some way. She had stumbled into a repair garage for these things, and the men seemed very confident in their tasks.

The ten foot giants called stalfus were not unknown to her. She had heard when she was very young that they tore men’s’ arms from their bodies and took orphans from the streets. Sometimes she heard them hiss to a stop outside of Croft's shop to drop off supplies, and when she was sent out for this or that a carriage driven by the machines would always ride by. When she was younger she avoided them. Those mechanical monsters were used for anything from labor to war, something she only heard about from the customers Croft would get. Despite her old fears, she could barely draw her eyes away as she saw another machine come into view, this one fully functioning.

Dark smoke fumed from behind the stalfus as its engine was running, burning coal to provide all the power it needed. As it came close, summoned by one of the technicians, a man detached something that was built into its chest. Pulling a metal mask over his head he activated the device that arced with the brightest light she had ever seen, and she had to shield her eyes. He touched the white heat to the mechanical creature, welding the drill bits back into place while a few other workers held them where they would need to be. After a few minutes she had to turn away, hiding behind her boxes and watching the light from the arc-welder dancing on the opposite wall. Finally, the device was switched off and as she turned she saw someone put it back into place.

Some command was spoken and the machine went back over to the far left wall, took a handful of coal and consumed it. There was a plate that slid out of the way in its head where a human's mouth would be, and for a moment she could see the flames in the coal fed engine change as new fuel was introduced. It took some water from a nearby hose, attached it for a moment, and then walked back over to the workers. She couldn't take her eyes off of it then. As she witnessed what would be considered the machine’s lunch break, she began to imagine the stalfus as a living person. She grinned, watching in wonderment as it came back to its master, looking for some new directions. Suddenly it reminded her of a loyal pet more than a machine.

The technicians did not wander the shop much as they worked and she simply watched them from her hiding place, nearly jumping up when they started the machines in order to move them. Each time one of the stalfus followed one of their commands she smiled a little. She even enjoyed listening to the technicians talk, though she couldn't understand a single word. These men had obviously known each other a long time, and camaraderie was not a thing she was accustomed to seeing. By the time the sun was beginning to go under the horizon the men had fixed three machines, and were starting in on a fourth.

This one was at least a foot taller than the others, and it seemed to be sturdier. They had received it in the middle of the day from some rough looking people, and given the large weapons on it, she supposed it was likely used for fighting. There was thick metal plating over all of the hydraulics and it made the ground shake as it walked in. The repair men had seemed excited about the amount of money they were being paid to fix it, so they were being very thorough in their inspection of all its parts.

After more than an hour of work, however, the job appeared to be going awry. Each time the men would fix something on it something else would pop loose. Once, the thing even toppled over, nearly crushing a technician. All the friendliness of the room had begun to melt away as the men cursed and threw tools in anger. Suddenly the place no longer felt as safe as it had only that morning.

As one of the machine's arms randomly fell off, the girl noticed something strange. A slight glow came from the joint that had fallen, and she saw a little gray furry face. It jumped down onto the floor, and she could see that it was not even half a foot tall. Short hair covered its little body, with its head taking up half of its length. It looked a little like a mouse, with rounded ears and a long flesh-colored tail. But its strange legs, which ended in feet as long as the rest of the body, made it look very unusual. It hopped around on the two legs, its front 'hands' never touching the ground. She could also see large, sharp, shining teeth as the thing pointed and laughed at the mechanics, a little squeaky voice issuing from its tiny rodent-like mouth.

As one of the workers came over to see the joint and proceeded to curse every god in the heavens, the thing rolled over on its back laughing at him. He seemed to ignore it, however, even as it jumped in front of him and danced all over the top of the machine. It climbed on the metal of the stalfus like it had handholds, almost seeming to meld into the metal itself. As the worker repaired the arm socket, she saw the little thing begin gnawing at the finger joints of the machine's right hand. As it did, each finger fell off its frame; one by one. It stood atop the arm, holding its little hands in the air like some champion after a tournament, as if proud of its achievements. Especially after the mechanic noticed the broken part and began beating the shop's floor with his wrench.

In half an hour the little imp's damage had been repaired, and