Souls of Steam

There never used to be dragons in the valley. That was until Maggie found them. Hidden under dust, stone and foliage, they had laid dormant for years and no one had ever thought to look. Sleeping silently where they had been placed a hundred or so years ago, they were now Maggie’s little treasure and her new favorite place to work, scavenge and explore.

The summer day was hot and humid as Maggie picked her way down an old deer path and deep into the forest of the valley. She wore a loose set of denim overalls that were splotched with oil and paint with a dirty white sleeveless shirt under it. In her pocket was a pair of heavy work gloves and she wore iron-toed boots. She carried a toolbox at her side filled with everything she needed to fix the machines called steamworks, contraptions that were powered by steam and were used by humans to aid in their everyday lives. Her skin was bronzed from her long hours of working in the sun, and even her curly dark brown hair had lighter streaks towards its ends from such exposure. Her dark brown eyes were sharp as they darted around the woods.

The forest was alive with animals of every sort. Songbirds sent their voices into the air, while the gentle rustling of leaves made up the backdrop of the cacophony of sound. Maggie kept her eyes open despite this. Wolves and bears had not been seen in many years, but the old wives tales she had been told as a younger child still haunted her nightmares. The forest was a dangerous place if one was not careful.

As she headed down the thin trail, she caught herself wondering what it had been like three hundred years ago when humanity had nearly conquered the world. The idea that vast clockwork and steam cities had been everywhere, alight with industry, illumination and airships was alien and almost unfathomable to Maggie. Her imagination went wild at the thought, trying to picture what it all looked like. Maybe it looked like hundreds of the water distilling machines near her house, or the mechanical donkeys that helped haul food from the fields and water from the streams. Or perhaps like the steam generators that kept their houses lit and powered. She couldn’t really imagine an entire city of the machines.

Just like cities of steamwork machines, she couldn’t even think of living in a place with so many people. She had grown up in a small village on the other side of the mountain, isolated. She had never seen another person who didn’t live there. The elders said that they could be the last humans left alive after the Collapse. And if there were others, they would be nearly impossible to reach. Maggie didn’t know much about the Collapse and the people of her village didn’t speak of it in detail. It was supposed to be forbidden knowledge. What she did know is that two hundred years ago, human’s avarice got the better of them, somehow. It had led to the catastrophic destruction of all these cities, and with it came the threat of the High Lords. They had killed all the humans. Or, well most of them anyway.

Who the High Lords were and why they had tried to exterminate humanity was not known by her village. They were some phantom threat that supposedly existed somewhere out in the world. One that apparently didn’t care much about this small pocket of wild forest, mountains and valleys. Many of the elders spoke of them as great monsters that devoured children in the night with glowing eyes and sharp metal teeth that numbered in the hundreds and went down their gullet. Or sometimes they were formless phantoms with sharp claws. Maggie shook off the images that came to her head. She was 16 now and shouldn’t be afraid of such tales. There wasn’t anyway to confirm they were true anyway.

Maggie paused as the thick trees around the trail suddenly gave way to more patchy covering. Here the sun could be seen because most of the trees here were new and young compared to the rest of the forest. That had been her first hint that this area of the valley was not normal. Her second was the strange, broken down metal fence and sign that was being consumed by the woodland around it.

The sign had been her first project. She had pulled and cut the growing vines that had been choking it. In formerly bright colors and jaunty text it read, Welcome to Jeramiah’s Marvelous Land of Mechanic Wonder. She hadn’t been entirely sure what that had meant until she had journeyed further past the fence. Inside the metal barrier was a vast sprawl of old brick paths, run down and destroyed buildings and the best part: metal, rusting games, rides and an array of mechanical dragons. After hounding some of the village elders, they had given her some descriptions of what they had called “Theme Parks”. They were places that people had gone to for fun and to enjoy rides for leisure or thrills. The idea of such a past time was so different to what her and her friends had done for entertainment.

Maggie was fascinated by the massive metal dragons. They were spread out across the old theme park, usually near the broken down rides. They varied in size. Some were as small as a horse while others towered over their rides as large and foreboding guardians. She had hoped to find one that worked still, but so far her search had been unfruitful. The dragons all seemed to be decaying and nonfunctional. They were covered in overgrowth, neglected and forgotten. Most had rusted beyond repair, their joints fused into sad states of rest, or with mouths open and glass eyes damaged and shattered. Some nights, when she had stayed out late exploring she found some of them spooky when framed by moonlight.

She had started taking them apart, just to see how it had been made. They were steam mechanisms, so they had boilers, complicated wiring, pipes and were usually made of copper, steel or iron. Some were obviously more modern than others, with more simplistic designs or layouts. At least internally. The metal plates that gave them shape were varied between each individual dragon. Some had beautiful copper masks that started at their nose and flowed like water into crowns of shimmering orange. Others had numerous horns that acted as pipes for their steam release, curving and twisting into a tapestry of shape and form. Some had wings of exhaust pipes, other with torn cloth over thin frames. Most were riveted down to their pedestals, some didn’t have any legs, others only had two. They were masterpieces of steamwork, far superior in make than any of the mechanical animals Maggie’s village used to survive.

The one thing that mystified Maggie the most though was one part of the machine that she didn’t understand. Inside each of the dragons was a crystal that sat in their chests like hearts. They were in a frame that kept it suspended and attached to several pipes and wires that didn’t quite make sense. These crystals were mostly broken, or useless it seemed. But she had come to the theory that they might have been batteries that powered some of the mechanics in the dragons. Though they weren’t meant for processing steam. It was impossible for them to. They were like hunks of rock and to Maggie, were out of place in steamwork machines. They got their energy to function from the process of creating and releasing steam. What did they need the crystals for?

She had decided that she would find out. But the first thing she had to do was find one of the hearts that still worked. Out of eight dragons she had dismantled so far, none of them had a working crystal. It had frustrated her that this was the case. She wasn’t even sure if the ones she had found this far were actually broken. Maggie’s expertise in fixing steamwork machines was good, but she wasn’t completely familiar with pre-High Lord designs. And so her skills fell short and probably her knowledge of their advanced technology too. But she was determined to change that and be the first person alive in a hundred years that could fix old world steamwork.

Maggie walked down the overgrown path through the first hall of run down buildings. She passed the first dragon she had found, a silver centerpiece that sat regally as if guarding the buildings from outsiders. The deeper she got into the park, the more dragons there were. They often seemed to resemble that which they sat near. One that looked more like a sea serpent was curled around a wooden boat that was attached to a huge machine. The dragon near what looked like a castle from the outside had at first struck her as overly frightening and creepy until she had gone inside the old building and found it full of stuffed and mechanical ghouls and ghosts from campfire stories she had heard as a child.

She had decided that today she was going to scour a new part of the park she hadn’t been to yet. As she left the part of the path she had managed to keep clear of the oppressive foliage, her progression got slower and harder. A few fallen trees blocked her path, and she had to climb over or under them. There were nettles and poison ivy on the other side of the second one, fueled by a recent rainstorm that had come through the area. Maggie moved through them carefully, holding her arms up high to avoid her bare skin from coming in contact with the stinging or itching plants. Once she as past them, she looked around at the new part of the park.

She could see a large, vine covered and circular structure not far off. It was laying on its side, though if it were upright, would have towered over everything else in the park. There were compartments attached to it, some open or closed that contained seating. She took note of the leather covers on them. They could be useful for future projects. The other ride that was nearby had a what looked like a mine cart sitting on its railed path, waiting to disappear into an enormous fake rock fixture. She approached it, wondering what was inside. As she did, Maggie caught sight of a dragon inside a large nook built to resemble a cave, overlooking where the line of people would have waited to be let onto the ride. Its home was connected to the ride’s faux rock face, as if it were part of the attraction as well.

She decided she would explore the ride itself later. She headed over to the dragon. It took a moment for her to hoist herself up to where it was perched. The dragon inside was one of the prettiest she had ever seen in the park. Semi-hidden from the elements, it hadn’t rusted quite as much. Its delicate claws were made of steel while the rest of the body was made form various metals. She spotted copper, bronze and steel all woven together to make up the steamwork beast. It nearly filled up the nook with its size. It stood nearly as tall as one of the houses in her village. Its face caught her attention the most. It had copper plates covering most of its face, the base of each was caked with green corrosion. They swooped upward into an elegant deep orange crown that looked like a fan used by people to keep cool in the summer. In between the plates were a small array of horns, some small and rising back towards its neck, while it had two large ones that curved inward at the top of its head. It had round glass eyes protected by a framework of steel and wire. Its wings were in tatters, having been made of bronze with cloth stretched between each finger.

Maggie placed a hand on the machine and took it all in. This would be her ninth dragon. She set her toolbox to one side and examined the steamwork from head to toe. Once she had taken stock of the design, she pulled a screw driver from her supplies and headed towards the creature’s chest plate. She needed to see if it had a working heart. The screws were hard to work through, some having rusted beyond repair. She had to retrieve some metal cutters from her tools to remove some of them. Finally, when her work was done, she placed her tools aside and attempted to remove the plate.

Maggie tugged on the chest plate. At first it wouldn’t budge. She braced her foot against on of the dragon’s legs. After a few strong pulls, the rivets holding it in place buckled. With a small yelp, she fell backward. She landed with a small thud on the ground. It took her a moment to recover from the sudden fall, having had the wind knocked from her. Once she had her breath back, she shoved the metal plate off of her and looked to where the dragon’s heart was. To her surprise it was glowing faintly with a pale white light. Maggie’s heart leapt with excitement. She had found a working heart!

She quickly got to her feet and started examining how the crystal heart was attached to the rest of the machine. Unlike the broken down dragons, this one had copper wires that could be seen inside the crystal now that it was glowing. They were still attached, and Maggie could see sparks bouncing between each of them. She stood back then, looking at the dragon. If the battery was still working, why was the dragon not functioning? Then she realized what it could be. While the dragon did have a working heart, it was still a steamwork machine. It needed water.

Maggie quickly climbed up and onto to the back of the dragon and after a bit of searching, found an opening for one of the boilers. Luckily it was made of rubber, and so had not rusted shut. Still, it was hard to work it out of the valve due to its age. Once it was free, she poured what was left of the water inside her canteen into the machine. Then, she carefully descended to the front of the dragon, and hit the switch to turn it on.

It took a long time, but then Maggie heard the water in the boilers start to heat up. Steam started to leak from them, as well as some of the pipes on the dragon. There were some clicking noises, some metal scraping against metal. And then…

The dragon moved.

Its front claws twitched for a moment before it began to raise its long neck. The metal joints creaked with age and disuse as rust and dust fell from it like rain. Then, its eyes flickered on, radiating bright yellow light. Steam lifted from the horns between the brass plates that made up its frill and face. Maggie was elated. She had managed to fix one of the dragons!

Suddenly, the dragon shook its head, and its eyes went dark rapidly for a few seconds. It then looked around. Maggie watched it with awe. Its programmed movements almost made it look like it had woken from a long sleep and was checking its den to be sure no intruders were around. Despite its jerky movements, it was a pretty convincing bit of routine.

The dragon stopped looking around when its eyes crossed Maggie. It lowered its head to her level. She couldn’t help but take a step back. That part of the routine was a bit unsettling. Then she heard a whirring sound and then the dragon spoke in a distinctly female voice, its mouth moving up and down.

“The park! What has happened to it!?”

Maggie was confused. Was this really something a steamwork machine would say?

The dragon stared at her and then said, “The park? Its been over-run? When was the last time a mechanic or gardener has been here? Where are the customers?”

It sounded like the steamwork was trying to have a conversation. Maggie muttered to herself, “How strange.”

“Strange? What is strange?” The dragon asked.

Maggie nearly leapt out of her skin. The steamwork dragon was actually talking to her. She screamed and started to run away. The dragon cried after her, “No, wait! Wait! I...I mean...Welcome to the Park! Stay and have fun! Come back!”

Maggie stopped. She looked back at the dragon who had not moved any further towards her. It stared at her, its head cocked to the side a bit in what appeared to be confusion. She stared at it for a moment and then snapped, “How are you possible!?”

There was a rapid flutter of the dragon’s glowing eyes. Then it said, “What do you mean?”

Maggie sputtered, “Steamwork doesn’t talk! At least not like a person!”

The dragon didn’t move as if it were stuck in its pose to think. Then it said, “Basic steamwork, yes. But this is a theme park. We have to be more interesting than what people see on the streets or in their everyday lives.”

Maggie felt her fear start to flutter out. The the contraption didn’t appear like it wanted to hurt her. It seemed more confused and concerned with what she was saying. It must have been shut off for a long time if it thought any surviving steamwork could talk like it could. Maggie slowly picked her way back to it. She asked again, “How are you possible?”

“I...I don’t know.” The dragon admitted. “I just am. I am here to greet you before going on the”- the dragon paused and then said dramatically, - “Thrilling Cave of Myth and Mystery! Step up, one and all and experience the horrifying and enigmatic mysteries hidden within this experience of”-

“It doesn’t work anymore.” Maggie interrupted, leaning against one of the big rocks at the entrance to the dragon’s nook. The dragon stopped speaking for a moment and then,

“What?”

“The rides. None of them work anymore. This park has been abandoned for at least a hundred years.” Maggie explained.

The dragon’s eyes fluttered on and off for a moment. Then it replied with a deflated, “Oh.”

Maggie asked, “Was that your function? To greet people before getting onto the ride?”

The dragon answered, “Yes. I was to greet the guests. Invite them to the ride.”

“Why waste such good technology on a steamwork dragon meant only to greet people?” She asked.

“Such...good technology?” The dragon stammered. “What do you mean by that? I’m one of the lesser designs, sure. But I am commonplace enough.”

Maggie frowned and then answered, “There was the Collapse around a hundred years ago. I’ve seen steamwork machines in my village. We use them to help with the harvest. But none of them seem so alive. They can’t talk like you. I can’t have a conversation with them. They perform their function and that’s it.”

The dragon asked, worry entering its voice, “A Collapse?”

“I don’t know much about it. Just something to do with High Lords.” Maggie answered, putting air quotes around the High Lords.

The steamwork suddenly went still. It then said, “The High Lords….They caused the Collapse?”

“Yes. Do you know what they are?”

“Of course! They are the ruling”- There was a sudden sound of clicking and scraping metal. Then the dragon’s head dipped and went still, its mouth was stuck agape. Maggie cried,

“Oh no, wait!” But as her eyes skimmed the dragon’s horns, she saw that the steam had stopped. The steamwork was out of water. She sighed. She then said, “If you can hear me, sorry but you used up all the water I had. Which wasn’t much. I’m turning you off for now. I’ll wake you back up when I’ve filled your boilers. I have so many questions.”

She then pressed the switch and the dragon’s eyes went dark. She stood back then, taking in the dragon. Part of her was afraid of it. But the other part of her was brimming with excitement and curiosity. The dragon had memories from before the Collapse. It knew about the High Lords. It could answer all her questions. She would know more than the village elders about humanity's past. Maggie would be the first to know in a hundred years.

She had to know. As fast as she could, she replaced the chest plate that protected the heart and then gathered up her tools. Tomorrow would be the first step to her new goal and she could barely wait.