Chapter One: A Seeded Field
The soft spring dirt gave easy way to the iron hoe, the sun beating down ever so slightly on our necks, the small pouch filled with leaf-wrapped pockets of corn, squash, and bean seeds, around me were the unknowing descendants of ten-thousand years of unrequited hate and depravity, and yet they stood there working as I, Jacob Dupont, age 22, the last human in the galaxy, or at least I think. We work until the sun begins to touch the horizon plowing the field by hand and planting each seed packet in a finger dug hole. We march our solemn selves back up the hill to where the town is, and as someone from Houston the largest city on this planet, I still called a town, the creatures around me understand I don’t come from here and I possess a great deal of knowledge I keep to myself. The people here call themselves the Equil, and are a product of the greatest atrocity in recent galactic history, while the Earthbound humans wiped themselves out with nuclear war, the Ancieata kidnapped our race by the tens of thousands on the annual to fuel their genetic studies, all to produce new species, the Equil, are the product of the earliest horse peoples, as the first Caucasians were taken and were given horse-like traits. The Equil have hooves, horse-like tails, and are covered from head to toe in a thin coat of hair, just enough to cover the skin and be soft, the mouths are lined with teeth and snouts are much shorter in length (proportionally sized of course) to their horse genetic hosts while longer than their human counterparts, yet they have hands like men their nails like man, their heads were shaped like that of a hybrid of man and horse, eyes facing forward, a longer face, and a head of hair in place of a mane. The men were wider built and more muscular than your average human and slightly taller for their human relatives of similar technological stature, their women though, were not slimly built, they had wide hips and slimmed out into a natural pear shape, and from a larger child at birth they had notably larger breasts, between the sexes, the females certainly appeared human and yet they desperately need my help to develop.
	I came to this planet about six months ago, and where the majority of the human race now lays dead and unburied in their pillars or steel and concrete that were formerly cities in the aftermath of the third world war that I didn’t risk fight in or stick around to see. I don’t know how many people survived but not enough to warrant my return. I wandered this planet with a library’s worth of knowledge, stories, and designs for a long six months, the cave library I have in the nearby mountains is hidden and protected, but my greatest asset is my wristwatch and teleportation device, with it I am able go between worlds if needed, the price of my instant travel is exhaustion, the farther I go the more tired I am, as I barely survived the trip to this world from Earth, only by the luck of the icy stream I materialized in and sheer will to live did I survive. I was unable to walk for a week and finished the food I brought, the water I laid in cooled my burning body and gave me something to drink. When my battle to stay awake ended I got to work immediately. I used the various tools I brought to construct the door to my cave bound library, and within the stone and wooden walls my tools still lay, cold as the mountain top.
	Here though, at the foothills of the mountains, a river runs near the town, and here I preach my sermon of development and of the word of God, the nobility listens to both, the middle class listen to the first and the poor listen to the latter. The wall that surrounds the city is constructed with a base of tree trunks and covered in terra cotta bricks, the gate is made from bronze, the methods of construction I provided with books and with a demonstration, the forge in the town now never runs cold as tools, silverware (or bronzeware in this case), and building materials are produced non-stop. Today though, I will meet with the nobles again for English lessons and for the implementation of new technologies, today iron and ropes will be of discussion. As the trotting mass of fieldsmen approach the gate the two guards, clad in bronze armor and wielding bronze spear and shield, stare me down, one with a happy smile strung across his face, the other stares at me with a look of bitterness, likely because his family trade ended with bronzeworking or classical construction, or even perhaps the many other trades and jobs that ended with my introduction of new technologies. He snarls at me and swears at me in Equil, I pay him no mind and keep going on to the town, around me the construction workers are finishing the day’s work or getting paid, some have already made it over to the outdoor bar where they are enjoying a mug of beer or ale. The walk down the main street leads me to a section were hot blasts of wind reside in circular patterns picking up leaves and providing stark contrast to the winding down city. This section of the street I affectionately call the furnace, here are all the smiths, glassmakers, and clay workers all working their trades day and night by the light of fire. The next section sees another gate, one that stays open during the day and closes during the night in the event of a nomadic tribe passing near the city, and upon passing the bronze gate I come to the residential core of the city, here houses top restaurants a clothes makers, or are simply homes, the closer I get to the center the more wealthy the citizens become, the “palace” is effectively a very nice home with a wall around it, guarded by men in bronze and wearing blue clothing (a sign of status), they let me in without saying a word, the monotone thank you is reciprocated by an equally flat, yet accented, “you’re welcome”. 
	The upper echelons of Equil society I helped shape, I decided to convince them to share or invest their wealth in better and new technologies, as a sign of good will I am teaching to read and speak English, however I first had to learn Equil, which was not an easy task as there were no similar languages on Earth, and yet I still figured it out. About two months ago the heir to the Equil throne died, some Equil blamed me for his dead and attempted to kill me, I responded to this attempt with the blast of a twelve gauge shotgun to the chest of the rival house, one that ceased to exist the next month thanks to the fire practices of the town, some that are changing and I helped create a temporary solution for until the Aqueduct project is completed, down by the river the combination aqueduct/grain mill is underhand, and last I saw it the grain mill portion was finished and the construction crew was overjoyed to see the sheer amount of flour they could produce. The population in the past month finally cleared one hundred and twenty-five thousand souls, and I threw a party outside the town, I had made a deal with the bakery to help them make my order, I found a specie of honey bearing eusocial insects on this planet a month after I materialized here, I set up an artificial hive to see if they produced honey or something of the like, and frankly I was impressed on how it dripped from the bottom into a collection bucket. I set up many more hives in the fields to help with fertilizing the crops, the honey I collected at the end of each day, however the days harvest was collected by the baker and trader at a worthy price for the honey. The honey originally was used by the baker to make sweetbreads for my celebrations, the baker loved it so much (and his customers) that he kept it as a morning bread. 
	I finally snap back out of my trance and find myself at the doors of the royal house and properly introduce my face into the wooden door and butt to the ground. The noise my forehead made against the wood must’ve brought attention to my presence, opening the door is the only female Equil of similar age that I am remotely familiar with, she has a reddish-brown coat with streaks of white on the top of her head and along her limbs, she is rather small for an adult Equil being much thinner built and about three inches shorter than most of her female contemporaries, her eyes are a fascinating teal color, her noble linage and her self-defense classes with me have toned her, she upholds the natural curviness of a Equil and large breasts, yet its less pronounced in her form, her name is Elba, Elba of house Tolta. Startled at me being on ground, “Oh, Hello Jacob, do you need, a, ooh, hand? Right?” “Yes, to both Elba” I say with a hint of giddiness in my voice, her accent reminds me of my Mémé (Grandma in French), Her hand reaches down to provide assistance getting me back up on my feet, her hand is quite soft except where the finger meets the palm, she wears a concerned yet intrigued smile and there’s this mischievous glint in her eye, her ears are twitching like antennae on an ant. “Soooo, Jacob, what’s on the menu for the day? Wait that isn’t right, I mean agenda.” “Well this week I will progressing you to a new age, or it would be if you didn’t have me, the Iron age and another massively important technology, the rope.” “Iron, Rope? What are these Jacob?” “Well Elba, iron is a metal far more common than bronze, and much, much stronger ironically you need bronze to get iron. As for rope, it is an easy thing to make, but it requires the right technology, fortunately you have it now, it’s useful for just about anything construction related.” You said one day we would be able to travel the Foona, how much longer do we wait on that?” Foona is the Equil word for River, Elba is fascinated with the concept of sailing and a sea or ocean, the vastness of an ocean, fond memories of fishing with my father along the Gulf Coast, or relaxing with a pole rod with Pépé along the River Seine in France. “Say Elba, how would you to” I pause nearly choking on my words, a long enough for Elba to say, “Would I like to what?” with this eager tone to her voice, “Would you like to come with me to the library in the mountains tomorrow, I can show you where I keep my books.” With those words, her ears shoot straight up her face nearly glows red through her coat, “Tilk, Tilk, TILK!” Tilk is yes in Equil, and based on how giddy she sounds she would very much like to go, she giggles and blushes the rest of the way to the main room. Before I open the door, she tenses up trying to show her more regal side to the nobility, as for me I untie the rope knot around my waist, the tightness of the de facto belt loosening, the bag I had tied around it is drooping down as the rope began to fall, the faces of the nobility are relatively scar free.
 Their short snouts didn’t bear the thick muscular jaw muscles like horses, but rather like the rest of the specie, had smooth human-like cheeks and muscle thickness, while ending in a significantly smaller set of horse-like nostrils. Their skulls are longer than a humans, enough to warrant a snout, the skulls I found in the mountains were certainly more horse-like than their civilized descendants, and this is for obvious reasons, the lower weight of their skulls and increased bipedal balance would be an evolutionary pressure in even the most civilized of races as if you tripped and died at age three, you didn’t live to pass on your long snout, so the population has been getting progressively shorter faces and wider hooves, some in the streets have four toed hooves rather than the usual three, Elba is one of the four toed members of the population, as is the rest of her family. They sit on chairs made from wood with cushions made from wool, their once horse-like legs with three major joints, being the hip, knee, and ankle, the seven boned legs of their ancestors had either fused or rearranged to resemble (skeletally at least) to something that resembles a human leg that is forever walking on its tippy toes, the heel doesn’t exist on their legs, and rather than toes as we humans think of them, they have four that make up a segmented hoof, each segment is tied to the main foot by tendons and is given a range of motion similar to a toe but more flexible in term of being stretched upwards. 
Away from their anatomy, again, and back to the meeting with the nobility, the queen sits in her chair with her back pressed against its woolen back, the king sits on a chair with legs made from the femurs of a majestic beast known as a Gilki, the back is the creatures ribcage covered in the creatures that wrapped around the interior of the ribcage and draping over the seat, the seat I know not of its composition but I know the top of the chair is adorned with the skull of the beast, about three foot in length and equipped with a mouthful of conical teeth, must’ve been a fearful creature to see. The rest of the nobility sit on the chairs I taught them how to make, carved from wood and rimmed with bronze, the cushion is made from wool. In my hands, I hold a length of rope about an inch in diameter and it’s about thirty feet in length, in my other hand I hold a bag of iron, nails, an axe head, and pair of shears. The council of nobles understand that I pose a massive threat to their power the fact that over half the population is in part loyal to me in some form or fashion for something be it medicine, work, tools, or the general improvement to life. The tense aura coming off the nobles, monarchs, and Elba causes me to crack this sadistic smile, the aura gets more intense among the nobles, but Elba seems to relax. The farthest noble, who I believe is called Hol, starts clacking his hoof toes on the wooden floor, I am the one who breaks the silence “Congratulations people of Equil, you have progressed ten-thousand years of human civilization in a mere six months partly due to luck and partly due to the natural ability of successful species to adapt to change. However, the next age will not be one of well-polished bronze like this one, it was a period of four thousand human years of near constant war, the growth of nations from mere towns like this one to true, world conquering nations begins today. I bring two very important pieces of technology with me today, one is rope, the other is iron. Each is extremely important to the coming month as two weeks from today I expect iron forges to be smelting day and night. If, IF, you can survive the next year, you will be unstoppable, rope will help with construction and iron is much stronger and much more common than tin and copper. In times of old for my specie, rope was made from hair of humans and from fibrous plants, sadly for you I have yet to find anything remotely like hemp on this planet we are going to start shearing the Thool (the thool are effectively cow-sized sheep but with long uncurled hairs rather than wool, it’s the Chulda that produce wool and those buggers are goats with wool and omnivorous.)” I pause to let the nobles take what I just said in, the terrified looks in their eyes enforce my power over them in our game of power through kindness, Elba interjects soon afterwards with “Well Jacob, could you show us these Iron tools you speak so highly of.” She turns to her parents and smiles as she says “I’d love to see them” I set the rope down on the floor, coiled like a snake, and open the burlap sack of iron goods, I reach down into it and wrap my fingers around the rock that feels slightly chilled, and pull it from the sack, the feint veins of iron showing like arteries on the rock, I pass the chuck of ore around the group of nobles all of which are unimpressed with the stone, I reach back down into the bag and grab the axe-head the King notices its lack of luster and his eyes widen, “For the King of the Equil I present and axe head, one of iron, with this you can cut the tree to build a home, or to cut down his foe and let him grovel beneath him.” With the axe head in hand I walk over to the King and gently placing the axe head in the King’s hand, as if presenting to him the keys to a new kingdom, “As for the rope, it’s clear that your kind either bleached the hair or used another substance” blurts a noble,  Elba speaks up “The humans used a different substance all together or lest according to one of the “shows” that Jacob watches, I believe it’s called nylon and its made from a black oil found in the sea.” Her father pipes up “Well Jacob I must say I like the axe head, but the fact that you are keeping secrets from us is a worrying fact. Why is the only question?” “Simple, if I showed you the sins of my specie you would never take a single gift out of fear, my people ended themselves with a what was supposed to be new age of electricity, switched to weapons dropped from the sky leveling cities three times this towns size at first. The electrical power was utilized but the weapons became bigger and more dangerous, by the time we killed ourselves in the quickest war you’d ever think of, a mere seven hours and six billion people were dead, the remaining one and a half billion were caught in a six-month winter with black skies for the next two hundred years, I left before the end of my world, but if my people, however few remain, can survive, perhaps me remerge.”  The King looks terrified by the honest fear and loss I bear in my voice. I speak again “Well, I won’t be giving you any modern weapons so don’t worry about wiping your entire race. Plus, it would take decades for you to get to that level of specialization, so unless I bugger off to another nearby planet and find some very developed civilization, I won’t even live to see this civilization reach the same tier of the one I left.”
	The silence in the room is eerie and fearful, the nobles look shocked at the story and the fact that I have much more knowledge than they anticipated, the king looks terrified, the queen who had sat poker faced appeared to be unnerved. From just outside the door I hear the bronze armored guards shivering in their gear either from cold or the thought of cities almost ceasing to exist in a second. 
	Elba speaks next “I have news that doesn’t pertain to the horrors that ended Jacob’s civilization, as he has invited me to accompany him to his “library” in the mountains, he has all his people’s knowledge and secrets entombed there, even smaller versions of technologies he has yet to give us and the plans to give us what technologies and when.” The King’s fearful eyes only intensify, and the Queen protests with “You have spoken of your kind’s warlike nature and aggressiveness, why should we trust you with the security of our daughter and who’s hand dictates the future of our house and kingdom? I think we should send you with an envoy, perhaps Lovs, I think he should accompany you on the trek to the mountains” The notion that I could not be trusted stings my healing heart, I have lost too much and come too far to be doubted with the safety of a single girl and repressing the building regret and anger I have at this Godforsaken galaxy, I calmly say, “I need not and envoy as the journey as the journey will be but an instant” I press a button on my wrist and the AI in the wrist-bound teleportation device, which is connected to my nervous system through a prick-like probe imbedded in my wrist reads the thought and sends me behind the nobility’s seats. Sliding my leg backwards to a half split and bringing it forwards slowly, like a sort of reverse lunge to get a feeling for this side of the room. Around my waist I feel the distinct heaviness of Colt .45 and my foot-long hunting knife, my clothes have changed from the simple tunic I was wearing to a pair of jeans, grey long sleeve shirt, and a leather coat. My eyes bear an intense look about them as memories and regrets from my time on Earth begin to fill my brain and cloud by judgement
 The King looks even more terrified than before, and like a tease I loom around the nobles for a minute, I finally say “My name is Jacob Dupont. My father was a Frenchman, my mother was a Texas native with German and English blood running through her veins. I was going to usher in a new age for humanity, I had spent three years of my life building single thing, something most of my specie wished they could say had the will to make. Around my wrist I wear my old life’s work, a device that can send me to the edge of space in single second, the number of sleepless nights and years of forsaking every possible pleasure was paid off with this, I was enjoying a cup of tea in Paris when the news of the end came to me, with it I relied on the Artificial Intelligence within the device to send me to a place where I would not only be welcome but could also help the other species of the galaxy. I need a group of people to help me continue my work, and you were the ones I am fated to assist, until my invariable death I will help your kind, I will plan your streets and cities, I will fight every war you wage, and I will bring about a golden age beyond your most wild and exotic dreams, I will leave this world so different those who held it to begin with, will beg for the release of death, and then and only then, will my work truly begin. You must understand, surely I sound crazy, but that’s what those who are unwilling to bend, and change say.” The words sink in to me and those around me, even Elba looks nervous, I speak again “Sorry, I’ve been quite nervous recently, I turned twenty-four last week and have been preparing a great gift, the iron and rope will be needed for you to receive it. I mean well, but seeing, and loosing, the things I have, will break the strongest of wills. To know that home is but a desolate wasteland, everyone you ever knew dead, all the memories you made now mean nothing.” With those words, I feel the burden of acceptance fall unto my shoulders.
Minutes pass in silence, the nobles realizing my burden at long last, the King now knowing of my personal fall, and Elba, poor Elba, had to see the pent-up sadness and anger released. One Noble who is adorned in orange, breaks the silence “I have held a firm belief for quite some time, I have needed to bring it up with you Jacob, can I have a minute of you time, in private that is?” I deeply exhale and nod my head in acceptance. Following the Noble into the room adjacent of the main hallway, he begins to quietly say “The King is afraid of you Jacob; he went to town earlier today and rather than hearing about babies being named Cilo after him, he hears of them being given one of your names, like Dupont or Jacob, he hears about the lower classes setting up bible worship groups to praise your God rather than the old pantheon. You have somehow stolen power from the Nobles, the Crown, and the Old Church, you likely hold more power at this point than the three combined. You asking to take Elba to the mountains is not only slowing his attempt to grab power back but damaging it, it is clear Elba has some degree of feelings for you, and if she were to ask for your hand, you would be unstoppable in this game you didn’t even know you were playing. If you’re asking why I tell you this, it’s simple, I agree with you and your policies, constant development and sidelining religion. Your harsh, yet non-lethal, punishments instill a loyalty amongst the lower classes, and the fact that you have written equal laws for all and have most of the guard loyal enough to enforce them is a spectacle to behold. The construction projects you have going are massive and costly, but the technology is primitive to you. 	Anyways, I have a favor to ask, after your trip to your library, could you train or teach my son how to defend himself, whether you care to believe it, you have sown the seeds of conflict here and I want my son to be able to defend himself in the coming times.” I reply, “I cannot teach him directly, sadly, but I will bring some books, guides and a video player to help with that, I made a promise to not train to kill until needed.” The man shakes my hand in some silent thanks, and we return to a room full of foreboding silence, four guards surround the King spears pointed at me, I close my eyes and break the silence, and with building anger in my voice “Did you honestly think that I came here without being prepared to kill, if you did you are unfit to rule. My people thrived because we prepared for the worst.” I raise my 9mm in my right hand and steel knife in my left, and then resume “I came to this world prepared to dispose of any threat to me, and I have already killed Equil, I came here six months ago, I found this place by killing enough of an attacking group of nomads until they gave me the information I needed. So, let’s not pretend that you can stop me, you’re a jealous and fearful man, the latter of which is understandable in your situation, an alien from another world showing you the future and every massive advancement you take, I then make you look still so primitive. I wanted to show Elba what your people will eventually reach, why her? She understands the need not to bend or alter but to completely forge a new identity and civilization, she may not yet realize it but when you die, at the hand of time or by falling on your own sword, she will be the one who get the job done, I need her to know the location of library so she can use it after my death, and the heir whomever it may be, shall have access to it as well.” The King’s fearful eyes now have inquiry burning behind them, to satisfy the question “Then why haven’t you shown me your library, I am the KING I HAVE THE RIGHT to KNOW!” I shout, for the first time since coming to Equil “NO! YOU ARE NOT WORTHY” I huff and resume “AND YOU WILL NEVER BE, YOUR SINS CONSUME YOU, YOU GLOW GREEN WITH ENVY AS I GLOW BLUE WITH REGRET!”  with those words spoken I prepare to be charged the four guards. Rather than charge me I see them hesitant to do anything, the King, angry, embarrassed, and afraid, looks as if he’s seeing a demon crawl for the blackest depths of Hell demanding his head. Elba looks startled but not afraid, the Queen is unsettled, and the Nobles understand I have litter quarrel with them, “Pardon my outburst, but I really need to ensure my plan’s success, for both your sake and mine.” The Guards look at me with a look of bitter contempt, I speak up again “I will go to my home, and if I find you have sent your Praetorians after me, I shall show you why I call them Praetorians.” With that I will myself to my home, about a mile away. 
Feeling as if I walked a thousandth of the distance. I feel the need to sleep creep up my back, and then the hunger hits me like a bus, I walk over to my basket of food, I open it to find a piece of salt cured meat and some dark bread, I boil some water and add one of the cocoa packets I brought with me from Earth to the bottom of my mug thinking of the crates of it I can produce with the nanotech micro factory, I notice the “Star Wars” logo beginning to fade, the wait for the water to boil over the small fire seems to take forever, I walk over to the bookshelf I brought with me and grab a cookbook from earth, the Betty Crocker book feels as if it hold forbidden knowledge as thoughts of chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon stars begins to dance across the tongue of my mind. As I set the book down, I let out a deep sigh and begin to recall the events that led me to my confrontation with the King, more particularly how I managed to come into the position I’m in, thinking about how timid I used to be and how terrifying I can be. The fact that my arrival and corresponding near death experience hardened me, the instinctive will to not die shifted something in my head.
	The noticeable sound of water boiling in front of me bring me back from the thoughts of being in the icy stream with a hundred-and-ten-degree fever with the water running over my forehead, the only thing keeping me alive, while my nose takes in icy water each time I pull each desperate breath. Purging the last thoughts of those events from my mine I realize, the cocoa is fantastic like last time, the rich chocolate flavor and smooth texture calms me. After enjoying the cup of cocoa, I set up my home defense system ensuring every trap is set and every alarm active. At long last I rest my head on my “bed” which is really just a large straw sack covered with furs, my blanket is a large sack filled with a thin layer of wool, and while not as comfortable as the one I constructed at the library it is a blissful contrast to the day of field work and unknowing now realized political maneuvering. My mind drifts into the blackness of sleep, and unlike most nights, I reawake back in Houston, just off to my suburb’s main street, my college mates are sitting at the bar laughing the sky behind them a consistent baby blue with the occasional white speckles of wispy clouds, the laughing continues as I see myself slouching next to them with a Carlsberg in my hand, it’s my 21st birthday, my ex is sitting at the table behind me talking about how I was too work oriented, my mates are laughing about how Ted became a dad at 24 and couldn’t come, as for me I look up and stare back at myself as if disappointed in my abandonment of Earth, as he opens his mouth the flash hits me, I look up to see a mushroom cloud from downtown, a skull-shaped figure in the cloud laughs as he rises. The next moment the 21-year-old me and everyone at the bar has the skin torn from their bone, the sky turns red and all the skeletal bird remains fall from the sky. The only words that ring in my head are forsaken, outcast, alone. With that I am ripped from sleep, the pitter-patter of rain on my roof is apparent, my eyes pried open from the sight of the nuclear annihilation of my home, even in the form of a dream. After an unknown of time of laying underneath the thatched ceiling of my home I finally drift back to sleep, lest this time I have no dream nor nightmare.
BANG BANG BANG, and I shoot up from my bed, grab 9mm and rush down stairs the air pressing against my face as I shoot down the handful of stairs between my first and second story toting the gun, the light of the cooking fire illuminating the main room. I approach the door with caution, listening for whom could beyond the door, I creak the door open just enough to see who it is, to my surprise it’s just the night watch, one of them, is named Joha the other I don’t know by name. “Are you alright Jacob?” Joha asks with a furrowed brow and concerned stance to him “We heard you shouting, as if something was attacking you, was there an intruder?” “No there was no one, my kind can sometimes speak in their sleep if they have a terrible dream. I had to see the death of my people all over again, but there is no danger in my home.” The two Equil raise their eyes as if interested, and the promptly scurry off at the sound of a loud crash in the manufactory district.
	I turn my back and step my way up the stairs once again, and as I clear about half-way, a much lighter series of knocks, I walk down the half-flight of stairs with haste but not the previous deadly speed. Walking through the kitchen I see the box of cocoa sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the wicker baskets, clay pots, and bronze cookware, the natural colors blending into one another while the red striped box of cocoa packets bears the only unnatural color in the room. Getting to the door once again, I get a rather odd energy coming from the other side, one I can’t quite place my finger on. I slowly open the door and wait for a voice, or rather in this case, a relieved sigh? I open the door to see Elba standing there in sleeping wear, looking like she’d seen a ghost, her eyes darting down the streets, she tried to speak she slurred her words, I realized she was trying to tell me something from the few words, I open the door further in a welcoming gesture, one she gladly accepted. She stands awkwardly stood in the kitchen/living room until I pull out a chair and gesture to sit, of which she hesitantly obliges. I grab an extra mug from one of my wicker baskets, and after a put the just water pot over the fire, I clean my Star Wars mug in my wash bucket and then reach over to my box of cocoa, take two packets of the chocolaty goodness and empty them into the mugs and return to the table, leaving the mugs on the table as the water boils over the fire. “What brings to my home at this hour” I say in a quite serious tone, the fidgety Elba answers in a quiet and reluctant tone “My father is trying to get the guards to kill you, I don’t know if he will order it tonight but be” “I’ll be fine, your father’s finest men would run like children if they knew of the weapons I have at my library and within this home, I place the 9mm from my hip onto the table, and with a look of grimace strewn across my face I think Elba, for the first time, truly realized why I have such a disdain for war. She stares down at the L shaped piece of steel, before looking back up at me “Is this one of your weapons of war?” she quietly asks “No, this weapon is for people to defend themselves, or if needed revolt against their government, in a revolution of sort.” She looks back at me as if not understanding “You’ll understand what a weapon of war looks like tomorrow when you and I go to the library” I hear the water boil behind me “As for now, enjoy this drink and you can stay here if you’d like.” I walk over to the table with the mugs, grab the ladle and one mug, fill the mug with water and repeat with the next mug, I stir quickly with the stirring rod I have and grab both mugs and return to the table. “This should calm your nerves, it’s quite tasty, but do wait, it’s very hot at the moment.”
	As we wait for the cocoa to cool, we have a brief conversation about how we believe the city should develop and our conflicting views on worker conditions, one that continues until our cocoa cools, the conversation of the necessary evil of industrial conditions ends with a single sip, and with it arises the happy voice I know and have begun to associate to when things are going good, she asks “What is this drink called? It’s absolutely delicious!” “It’s called cocoa, or hot chocolate, in one form or another it had been drank for over three-thousand years, one kind has a spice called cinnamon in it, perhaps I make some at the library for you.” “Well your people were doing something right for three thousand years!” She happily proclaims, I don’t have the heart to tell her the fate of the Mayans, and with the cheery smile shining across her face, I too crack a smile, but one of caring contentment not happiness. Elba turns to me, catching my less than spectacular smile, her brow furrows and asks “What’s wrong, normally you seem like a pillar of strength in this community, something must be on your mind. So, what is it?” “Oh nothing, it’s just kinda hard to be really happy when you find out someone is after your head, even after helping them soooo much.” She looks rather unhappy with my reply, but pleased with the honesty. I talk a large sip from the cocoa, we sit in silence waiting for the other to bring up a different topic. About ten minutes pass before we talk again, we talk about various topics of concern and come to an agreement on certain matters pertaining to agriculture and animal domestication, while agreeing to disagree on the inevitability of the harsh industrialization. With our civil conversation ended, I ask “It’s quite late, would like to sleep here tonight?” she nods, showing her more regal side in the oddly graceful motion, strangely, she seems to be blushing.
	I walk up to my room, up the stairs to my bedroom and grab the bag above my main wardrobe, I place it on the ground. I reach into the bag and unfurl the sleeping bag about five feet to the right of my much more comfortable straw based bed. Elba begins to walk up the stairs, or I think she is based on the sound of four-toed hooves clacking against the wood plank stairs, the light knocking growing ever so slightly louder as she makers her way up the twenty steps. She enters the room with a happy, perhaps even eager, look on her face coupled with a more intense blush feeling. I raise an eyebrow as begin to pump the air mattress up, she looks at me with a confused look “What are you doing Jacob? I thought we would share a bed.” I think about the context of my offer, and then, like a train, the blush hits me and feel like I’m glowing red. We stand there awkwardly as I pause and then say, like an idiot “Wouldn’t your father try to kill me…                …Wait a minute he already is, you know what, lets share the bed tonight. But no funny business.” I stop pumping up the bed, and stand there realizing what I said, and I take off my shirt while leaving my trousers and climb onto the reinforced and fur laden hay bed. I look over to Elba, who at the moment, has lost her eager look about her and in place has gained a slightly shy or timid look about her, I roll over and face the wall and hear her begin to strip down. Moments after the rustle of cloth ends, a few clacks of hoof-on-wood, and I feel the smooth, thin, fur of Elba brush up against my back, and then her breasts, and lastly, I feel her head nuzzle its way into my shoulder. We lay there rubbing against one another under the woolen blanket, her natural warmth ever so slightly higher than mine, the silence broken by soft, easy breathing, and two very busy hearts, eventually the rapid, hard thumps, of the two yearning hearts calm in lighter beats. As the tenseness of mutual feelings unknowing loosen, my eyelids slowly take the weight of lead, the bliss of sleep nipping at my toes and crawling up my back. As my eyes gave into the temptation of rest, I slowly numbed to the feeling of the softness of Elba as we sort of melded into a single shape beneath the blanket, and alas I sleep.
The world I dream of is both alien and terrifying familiar, before me is a forest of conifers, I stand in a field of soft ferns, much like the foothills of the mountains here on Equil, I walk into the forest, around me I see the figures of my ancestry, beginning with Celts with spears, natural that segued into the Roman conquest. I feel a loss when I see the Germanic peoples destroy Roman armies, and then they themselves burn under Charlemagne, then under France and Burgundy. The walk in the woods climaxes at the first world war, with boys killing each other just off the course I’m on. The ethereal form of me and the sins of my ancestors brings a further strengthening of my temperament, and a further resolve to not let these people live in the same constant fear of war as mine did. However, my luck of not watching the fall of man yet again was poor, as the compulsion to keep moving forwards overcame me and drove me to the feeling of utter devastation, and without peering along another path, I know the events playing out beside me, preparing to be rudely awaken by the regrets, the path summons me forwards. The path continues for much further, I see Ebla walk onto the path and towards me, the embrace even within the dream calms my nerves. I know what I need to defend, I would say with my life, but that’s a given in this situation.
Chapter 2: The King’s Envy and Wrath

I am once again awoken to the sound someone banging on my door, this time the sun shines through the open sutters shining onto the warm woolen blanket lighting up the room, Elba’s warmth pressing into my chest. I brush my hand through her hair and down her face enjoying the natural softness of her fur before getting up out of bed, I stagger my way out of the room with the early morning shuffle. As I hobble down the stairs the knocker shouts, “JACOB I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE, YOU’LL PAY FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE!” with that I finish my morning hobble, grab my 9mm off the table, open the door and while holding my door’s assailant at gunpoint and let out a waking yawn. Before me is the king, who glows with fury is King Cilo, with him is the Praetorian Guard all armed with spears, short swords, shields, and heavy bronze armor, I crack a smirk and raise my gun, the King smiles like he’s finally gone insane “So you’ve finally committed to killing me eh? Shame, I was almost going to let you live.” With that I pull my M9 from my resting arm and like a cowboy from the old westerns place a bullet in each of King Cilo’s legs, the armor piercing pullet ripping through both of his thighs and exiting on the other side of his leg, careful to not rip though the femurs, and with that he bellows, a scream like that of a dammed soul in the fiery, brimstone, lakes of hell, crying in agony he lies there cursing at me in a growing pool of his own blood. I raise my gun towards the guard and calmly say “Don’t worry Guards, I’m getting my medical kit, I didn’t want to kill him, I could’ve saved a bullet and just killed him.” I walk back into my home and see Elba emerging from my quarters upstairs, she smiles sheepishly at me not realizing what has just happened. 
I reach onto one of the higher shelves of my storage rack, pulling down a military field dressing kit, the large backpack is filled with cast supplies, various drugs, and plenty of wound dressing supplies. Bringing the bag over to the fallen king, I pick up his bleeding body, set it on the main counter, and lay a large sterile towel over the main table, then set the bleeding king, who might I add is swearing at me the entire time. I know that the bullets are no longer in the body but still run the metal detector over the ruined legs to find not shrapnel. I open the relay the Library’s AI construct into my teleportation device and with it one of the holoprojectors from the Library is summoned to the, and following the steps from the U.S Marines Field Dressing Guide meticulously dressing the wound. He screamed when I initially added the alcohol to the wound, and then I hit him with a morphine shot to prepare him for the main event. Elba tied a blindfold around his head and served as my instrument handler while I ordered one of the Praetorians to get the queen and two others to ensure no one sees the operation. I cauterize the wound with the fire stoker and stitch the wound together with steel wire. Elba hands me two rolls of gauze that I wrap around the swollen wound, compressing it while keeping the wound clear of blood. The cast making is the hardest part, especially with my difficulty working with the fiberglass cast, especially fitting it tightly over the cotton padding.
With the casts fit and the King’s life secured I lean down and whisper into his ear “You know I didn’t miss right, I could’ve had it so that you would never walk again. Be glad for my mercy or I would fill the vacuum of power myself.” The King’s face shrivels at the thought of me assume total control of the still emergent Equil state, and a devilish smile creeps across my face. “Try not to pressure on your legs King, it will damage the wound dressings and take much longer to head than needed, when I get back I’ll have you a wheelchair and a video player so you can learn of my people’s past, and what you would have to fight to beat me.” The King looks like he wants to spit in my face, and then does, I turn and grab a cloth from the counter and wipe my face, the I come back to the King “My how regal of you, you reallllllyyy shouldn’t be trying to pick a fight with me, at least wait until you can walk again and challenge me to single combat.” I call for the Praetorians and ask that they take the King to his quarters, the Praetorians show a great deal of concert around me, making sure to keep an eye on my holstered M9. As the King is carried out by his Praetorians, he shoots Elba a nasty look.
	I turn to Elba who is wearing her nightwear, I say would sleepwear but she obviously sleeps naked, she appears to be saddened, I would be too but at this point in my life I would love to see my father’s living face once again so I cannot empathize with her on this. She turns to me and asks if were still going to the Library and to that I with a monotone voice I inform her of the change, or lack thereof in this case. I lean into Elba’s ear and ask with a rather persuasive tone to get three day’s clothes from her home and come right back, with a concerned look on her face she hurries off to get her clothes. With her out I sit down, and then have a mental breakdown as I realize I just ensured someone couldn’t walk for many weeks, perhaps months, and I called it mercy in a serious tone. I come the shocking realization that from the loss of my people, I grew in mental fortitude and with that newfound strength I was able to take drastic measures to ensure that my plan goes unchallenged by the likes of a jealous king or anyone else. I go over to my storage shelf and grab the canteen of whiskey and take a large gulp of the burning liquid, and with an Ahhhh, I get to preparing my home for extended leave. I give my spoilable food to my neighbor, empty the clean water pot, and store the preserved foods, and to finish I put a padlock on the door and reinforce it with a tree branch, then teleport outside of the building and test my defenses. Satisfied with my efforts I walk the street towards the “palace” I wave to, say hello, and wish well as I walk down the street and try to find Elba, and it is just my luck that one of the Noble’s sons is trying to hit on her with little effect. She turns to me as I approach her, the Noble boy glances at me, then turns his who head to get a view of me in full swagger, he smirks at me leaves as if on a que.
	I walk up to Elba, and giving her a rather firm hug while initiating the teleportation device, as the tingling sensation of technically being ripped apart atom by atom over takes me, a smile from the thought of my couch and pictures of my family. I look down to Elba who, in the second it takes us to be ripped apart, appears to ecstatic with the thought of seen the Library. I close my eyes before having my head warped to the Library embracing Ebla as she experiences teleportation for the first time, and after the tingling stops I lift my chin, while inhaling deeply I look around my first month of work on Equil. Proud and satiated with my past work, I turn my gaze back to Elba, who has now drawn herself away from my hug and has begun to stroll between the shelves of the Library’s library. I walk over to one of the computers and begin to watch an archived version of an old BBC documentary on African Wildlife just for the hell of it. Within a minute of me starting the show Elba comes over to see what I’m doing, and with that I pull over one of Ikea style couches I had the 3D printers make in my first week of being in the city with Elba and you know, civilization, regardless Elba and I lay down on the couch as the soothing voice of a British man explaining the hunting patterns of painted dogs and the speed of antelopes. Elba seems fascinated with how the Humans of Earth were able to capture videos, not to mention she could watch the great predators of Earth in the safety of the Library and the comfort of a couch.
	We spend the remaining two hours of morning watching various nature shows, her head resting below my chin, at some points she playfully grinds her hips against mine, in response I found that playing with the tips of her ears would get a good reaction out of her. When the second hour-long documentary ended I got up, Elba looking at me with innocent, yet confused, eyes seemed to ask what I was doing without even opening her jaw “I just going to prepare lunch, you can stay here, it’s nothing special” I answer. With that I walk over to the kitchen area where in the fridge was several jars of pickled fish, mustard, regular pickles, and other long-haul refrigerated goods. I set out a jar of pickled herring, grab a fork from the fork basket, I reach into my bag and grab a loaf of dark bread with a similar texture, flavor, and nutritional value to that of rye bread and cut four thin slices out of it and setting them on plates. I take several bite-sized pieces of fish and place them into a bowl, in the same container I mix the ingredients for the mustard sauce onto the fish. In about three minutes, I have prepared a traditional North German lunch, low on fat, high on good vitamins and delicious. I bring the pieces of dark bread on their respective plates into the computer area, while keeping the fish in a separate bowl and bringing it on a second trip to the kitchen with a metal spork in the wooden bowl.
Elba seems curious of the food, a natural response provided her people just discovered how to make alcohol, the concept of pickling must be a pretty new one, if not alien. When I give her a plate of the prepared open-faced sandwiches she looks a tad confused on how to eat it. I show her how to cut the sandwiches and how to eat in the European style. She learns quickly from her eagerness for knowledge, either that or to impress me somehow, either way I am impressed with her ability to learn. We sit there on the couch, eating, telling each other pointless gossips, flirting with varying degrees of aggression, and lastly after the meal is done and all the gossip has been had, we find ourselves lying together on the couch.
	We lay there with an emotion filled silence, her butt grinding ever so slightly against my crotch, while my hand sits precariously beneath her breasts, the day-night cycle of the Library has us trapped within each other on the couch, the muted program continuing forwards as if the creatures of the deep are the most interesting things to have ever lived, breaking the silence is a simple whisper, you know, Jacob, I’ve made my decision, you’re the one claiming, I lean into the girls cheek and give it an affectionate kiss. With that her face grows slightly hotter and her subtle grinding is replaced with an anxious shudder, I wrap my other arm around her, and move them down to just above her hips, her anxious shaking stops, and with the exception of her breath and heart, she stops all movement, she whispers once more “To be honest, its moments like this that made me chase after you in the first place. Last night when we shared your bed I wondered “Why isn’t he making a move?” but now I understand, I think I like this more right now”. With those words, a warm smile spreads across my face, I whisper into her ear “you know? On Earth, most people would struggle to find the one they want to spend their life with, here though, on Equil it was rather easy.”. Elba seems to have a shiver roll down her spine and the beating of her heart begins to intensify, a distinct warmth seems to exude from her chest, she closes her eyes and mutters something I cannot hear.
The night passes on the couch, eventually Elba gives into her sleep and I soon follow. We wake finding that Elba rolled in her sleep to rest her chin on my shoulder, I look at her with a smile across my face, she responds with a shy smile and intense blush. She gets up first and walks over to the kitchen, I turn off the nature show and begin to make my way towards the kitchen to find Elba frying four pieces of salt-cured meat and a handful of the native cabbage-like greens spiced with some diced peppers with garlic grown on Equil. I walk behind Elba and hug her from the back, wrapping my arms around her waist and giving her a peck on the cheek. The meal Elba cooks was hearty and delicious, afterwards we clean the dishes and get to the much-needed learning, or in my case teaching. 
I teach Elba the History of Earth, starting at the start of civilization, leading to Sargon of Akkad and Hammurabi, eventually we get to the Egyptians, the collapse of the Indus, rise of the Assyrians, and their inevitable fall, of Persians, Alexander, and Chandragupta. Elba is fascinated with the slow progression of human history, the great story of mankind’s successes and failures, of its vicious wars and tranquil peace, of great philosophers and dangerous zealots. I warn her that human history would get progressively dark after we move to the subjects ancient China, Rome, and Japan, of the razing of Carthage, the Warring States Period of China, and the feudal states of Japan, of Caesar’s genocide campaigns against Gaul and the Britons, the endless wars between China and the Steppe Peoples. Elba understands the scale of human war a little too well, and is oddly on point with her people’s technological stature, she asks some questions that rub me the wrong way “What was the fate of Rome? Did the Steppe Peoples settle? What happened to the Chinese?”. The Fall of Rome almost scares her, and she seems to be visibly upset over the end of Rome, and relieved that the Byzantines survived, and almost excited over the campaigns of Justinian, going as far as to call him Saint Justinian as the Eastern Orthodox do, no, did. The history of Islam seems to make her gag, until I tell her of the four Califs, which gains the extinct people some degree of sympathy in Elba’s mind. I end the day’s history class with the Fall of Constantinople to the Turks, something that agitates Elba but doesn’t anger her. I move to math, something she already has a decent grasp on, getting to calculating interest and solving for both X and Y variables in mixed expressions.
As the day’s lessons finish I ask her if she is content with what she’s learned, she replies with a nod as she seems to be exhausted. I cook the evening’s meal, a pseudo-pizza made from a fried dough circle topped with a sauce made from a local almost-tomato that comes in the shape of a cone in blue, the cheese is from one of the local sheep-like creatures, and the spices are of the local variety plus garlic, sausage from one of the gigantic omnivorous reptiles that supposedly migrate to the river every year for the summer and leave every autumn north of the mountains. I fry the open-faced sandwich on a cast-iron skillet, something I had never done before, after the cheese has melted and bread toasted I bring the skillet into the dining area with a bottle of wine. Elba sits at the table with a face of utter satisfaction at the smell of spiced bread and cheese, and the fried meat for a topping filling the cave-library’s living area with a spicy-savory smell. The pseudo-pizza is far better than any I had on Earth, the blue tomato-like fruit, which from now on I shall call blumatos, has a faint heat to it adding to the flavor profile and an extra bit of smell to the whole thing. I use my knife to cut the pseudo-pizza, now known as fry pizza, into eighths, then as I gesture to take some of the food and Elba attacks the fry pizza with a ferocity of an Equil hunter on a Reptile hunt, I call the massive beasts Omnisaurs. I crack a gleeful smile seeing the eager girl switch from eating out of hunger to eating out of indulgence, she finishes quickly with the blue sauce of the fry pizza stuck in the fur around her mouth, shy feigns innocence and says oops as she realizes that ate the entire fry pizza, she apologies with a sheepishly innocent smile across her face, I with a paternal, satisfied smile, walk back to the kitchen to make canned chicken noodle soup. 
After eating my dinner, I find Elba scouring the bookshelves until she finds a book on French history, I find dystopian novel from the fiction section and begin to read, the first line “When the bombs dropped” I almost smile at the naive author for thinking that anyone left would care to even think those words, I read of a girl trying to survive on her own in the wastelands, only to think that no one in their right mind would try to survive on her own, I make it to the halfway point in the book before getting upset with how it portrays the post-apocalypse on how raiders would storm villages and murder everyone, like come on, raiders would try to get what they wanted without putting bullets in people, not to mention that salvagers, nomadic groups, and trade caravans would populate this “wasteland” of rich forest, fertile rivers and plains, and luscious jungles. I think back to what earth must look like, a new, far worse, ice age, the remnants of the old European powers fleeing like the German tribes of old across the Mediterranean, the Arabs, Berbers, and Blacks fighting a losing war against the now unified, and incredibly desperate European hordes, the cities from Beijing to Pretoria now nothing more than steel and concrete husks, and my home of Houston, which might have survived, now severely reduced in number. Elba notices my furrowed brow and slight frown and sneaks up behind me with a hug. The lightly upset face melts in a warm smile, I let out a happy sigh, her beating heart pounding through my body and I feel my heart begin to match hers. I stand up, breaking the hug, and say “I made a deal with a noble, I need to grab some books and other media including a tablet, catalog, and audio tapes with their appropriate players and chargers. It’ll take a few minutes, you can come and help if you’d like.” Elba looks at me with a confused look, her eyes narrowed in memory then says, “Was the noble dressed in orange?” “yes” I reply with a somewhat nervous laugh, Elba catches my nervous look and with a mischievous smile says, “It’s nothing bad, I was just wondering if it was Kyza who needed to be trained, why his father ask for knowledge?” letting out a relieved sigh, and say “He wanted me to teach his son swordplay, I told him I wouldn’t teach him directly, but I would provide his boy with knowledge, so I need to get him guides on Arab, European, and Asian methods and techniques, I intend to increase the guard with direct teaching, but I need to learn myself the arts of swordplay while I teach them unit formations.” Elba looks even more confused “What is and Arab, or Asian or unit formation? I know what a European is from the book I just read, and how the Vikings terrorized them for centuries, but what are there sword techniques?” I have the grin, the one Elba calls the eager teacher’s smile, strewn across my face, Elba’s eyes widen, “Wait, you’re going to improve the guard even after they tried to kill you?” she exclaims I smile “Oh of course, even if they do kill me I have the AI in the watch set to go to you, meaning you will be the be the only one with access to the Library. Not to mention the fact that the soldiers should be well equipped enough to protect the city against anything the other people on this would could muster.”  Elba worry seems to intensify before she calms with a deep breath. I walk from the chair towards the nonfiction section of the library, I had organized the books based on topic and then author, to help with me finding books on needed topics. I get about twelve books on the matter, three from each kind of combat, Japanese katana guides, fencing how-to books, medieval combat books, and lastly combat history throughout the Levant. I rush off to the unit formation section, I grab a book on Alexander the Great’s unit formations and tactics, one on Roman military history focusing on the Marian and Constantine reforms, others on the Frankish Army under Charlemagne, another on the English and French armies of the hundred years war.
	I return to the main living area with the bag full of books, surprising Ebla dropping off the bag before running towards the tech department to grab a projector, tablet, solar charger, and one of the solar batteries I designed. Elba gets spooked again as I return to the living area, I grab her hand and excitedly and pull her towards the weapons room on the opposite end of the Library, I turn to see Elba looking back at me with a look of great concern and excitement. I punch in a code on a thick metal door, then as the door opens with a powerful shove, within the room is row after row of weapons, suits of armor, and metalworking guides to make them, Elba seems to be particularly interested in the wall of weapon history, starting at the guns that my old friend Johan, a good Samaritan from Northern Germany, Kiel to be exact. The thermrounds (thermrounds superheat after being fired and were designed to effectively negate modern body armor by cooking the other side) that the gun would fire in barrels beneath it, Elba, in a state of awe, taking tiny steps down the wall, staring at the 20th century firearms as if made of gold and studded diamonds. As I walk the uniforms, ones I had fitted for myself. Elba continues down the wall getting to the advent of gunpowder weapons, I turn to her, seeing her face with a puzzled look, finding that she was looking at me, I smirk and with it I open a can of worms.
	Elba rushes towards me, she takes me by the hands and through beaming curiosity “What happened here?” She points to the area between the long swiss pike and that of an Spano-Austrian matchlock musket I smile, and explain “Gunpowder reached Europe a century before that weapon became common, but that weapon, that tool of destruction has killed over a hundred million men, that is what it is” Elba looks at me with her head cocked slightly to the left. I sigh then continue “Until a mere thirty years prior, a bullet fired from gun was near unstoppable, tearing its way through flesh, bone, stone all the same, its why I had to be careful when I shot out your father’s legs, if I missed I would have torn his leg bones apart. He would’ve never been able to walk again and likely have died from blood loss” Elba’s look of confusion appears to mellow as a glint of fear twinkles her eyes. Time for damage control I think, and say “Look, the gun is only as dangerous as its user, and I am no danger to you, but it equalized the battlefield, the poorest peasant could now kill the most powerful noble no matter how well equipped. Though the act of killing became simpler, easier, but the shift from the rich being unstoppable to being just another target in the sights of the armies of freemen…” Elba’s eyes widen in a sort of shock and I notice that she isn’t looking me in the eye as per usual rather she is intensely focused on the 9mm M9 handgun that hasn’t left my waist since I was attacked by the nomadic tribe at the start of last winter, as the glint of the hammer shines into my eye, Ebla takes several steps away while keeping her eye on the handgun, the fearful look in her eye increases as I try to unload the gun, the grabbing from my waist, the unloading of the gun by dropping the magazine, and pulling back the discharge and discharging the bullet, the brass casing letting loose and landing on the floor, I set the gun down on the table before the fear in Elba’s eyes begins to dissipate. With that the discussion over why I carry a gun, the questions build up like a queue: Why? Why have you carried it the whole time? How dangerous is it? Is it safe to be around? Why do you have it? The answers rolled off my tongue: Security, I was attacked and never wanted to be caught off guard again, only as dangerous as I am, yes, the king hates me, weren’t you there last morning? And with the questions answered the stare down began, eventually my will proved great, and she concedes defeat with a quiet, yet pouty, fine, I walk over to Elba give her a firm hug and let a smile crawl across my face. I let the hug go and pick the single 9mm bullet from the floor reach for the mag, pressing the cold brass cylinder into the magazine with the clink of metal on metal announcing the fact that the bullet was back with its kind and the cluncking sound of the mag entering the receiver of the M9, and after I place the steel gun entering the holster and the click of the button going over grip of the gun. After a while, I ask a question to break the silence “You want lunch now, or in a half hour?” She looks to me softly says “I think I’ll wait the half-hour. I need to collect myself before I launch the next series of questions at you.”
	I spend the next half hour polishing the weapons, dusting the old uniforms, and going over to the other two small museums and cleaning them up too, oiling mechanical parts, dusting floorboards, and vacuuming floors, towards the end I notice Elba peering around the doorway to see me doing my self-assigned chores. Elba appears to be anxious still, but I doubt it is about my gun on this time, the way she seems to be squirming in her tunic, which has generally meant that her father or marriage is on her mind and knowing the events of yesterday it could very well be both. Elba walks up behind me and ekes out some words that I could not hear on my life, she then scurries off to God knows where leaving to finish my work.
	Finishing within a few minutes I pack up the cleaning supplies and search for Elba. I find Elba lying down on the couch with her eyes closed but she isn’t sleeping, I can tell from the way her shoulders seem to wave as if she’s moving her arms beneath the blanket, she’s wrapped herself in. I gaze at her for a minute noticing how tranquil her false sleep seems to be, the light smile and relaxed eyebrows, the deep breathing, and, if I’m not mistaken, I hear a light moan. With that I leave the room as silently as I came in, I then make my way towards my quarters, another locked room that I open, and sitting there in its pristine arrogance is a freshly made bed and clean room. I close the door, press a button, lock the door, and then I scream an unholy scream, one that’s been needed for weeks, the growing hostility between me and the King of the city, the ever-growing threat from larger and larger nomadic groups, and the exponentially growing population within the city. Such things have weighed heavily upon me, and with the new Elba predicament is effectively throwing gas onto my issues with the King, perhaps this an end to a means after all I did put two bullets through the legs of the poor fool. The lesser matter of the teaching that boy Kyza to use the late human’s weapons, but more particularly how to find the weapon he has the most potential with. As I begin to ponder the weapon, I turn to the unlocked yet closed door to the room, with my head flat on the mattress and legs dangling off the bed at the knee, and unlike Elba, sleep hits me like a train. 

I wake again on Earth, a dream to be sure by the fact that my grandmother is still alive, provided she died in the 2010’s of pneumonia, I was back in Northern France on the River Seine, a blanket was laid across a clearing in the forest, rather than the normal Frenchmen that would be on the other side of the river, I saw men in mail and plate, men on horses and men with swords, the line in front of me was an army of Frenchmen, I turn my head back to my grandmother, or where she was, to find another army, this one is one I am quite assured never existed, one of chain and scale armored Gaels, behind them stood a massive Celtic Cross, the armies must’ve numbered in the millions, the waves of men went far beyond my line of sight along the banks of the river and the metallic glints of helmets from the French army, the same is apparent on my side as well, then as I thought the perpetual battle would begin, a line of boats, filled with a new, previously unseen, third party, men, women, children, these were the people of France throughout the ages, Gaels, Latins, Franks, Carolingians, French, the five peoples of France. I can tell that the sight of the people brings a discomfort to the soldiers, as if they know what is about to happen, a man screams behind me, I turn to see a growing darkness behind me, like a title wave of burnt bones and black tormented souls manifesting in a black tidal wave. The French and the Gaels went into a panic, some rushed towards the boats in some attempt to protect the people, others killed themselves, others collapsed unto their knees and began to beg for mercy from their God or Gods. The oddest group of panic were those who dropped their weapons, helmets, and what seemed to by their hope to make it out of here alive.
As the wave crashes into me I wake in sweat.


	Chapter Three: A Test for the Guard and Gendarme
	The moment I wake I feel something is off, the sound of clacking barely audible as if trying to hide, I rise from the bed walk to the nightstand and find my old utility knife, I check to see if I have sock on, of which I do, and I begin to creep out of the dark room into the light of the hall, I turn to see Elba scampering from something. That something walks like an Equil, it seems bulkier and is wrapped in hides, and adorns the skull of an Omnisaur. The skull-wearing Equil seemed not to notice me creeping out of the room, and as if it could smell me it reared its skull-wearing head to the air then turned to me, and with this I could see the rather large stone axe it held in its hands reveals some wear on the sparkling surface. With a loud grunt, the hulking savage charges towards me with thunderous pounding of its hoof-toed foot. As the beast leans in for a cleave, I dodge to the right, the creature was quick and nicked by left hand, I lunge into a stab with my knife, it connects but just barely. The inch or so of blade that reached into the Equil’s body must’ve been a painful inch as it staggered backwards and readied a defensive stance, I au contraire slink into the room across the hall, the armory, the lights are out but I still know the room well enough to grab a shield and short sword. 
I hear cautious clacking move towards the room, the Equil is now much more interested in me. In the dark room where I hide the door barges open, the Equil’s hooves are exposed, an opportunity I try to exploit by trying to slide under the creature and hack off a hoof-foot in the process. This did not happen, I slid under the creature but I didn’t connect with the joint, I just gave the creature a nasty cut in its left calf. The effect I wanted from the strike was given though and it buckled left, I rise and give the creature a nasty slash on its back, then force it to the ground with a blow from my shield. The skull atop its head falls off revealing a white coloration of its fur, he, is still very much alive but defeated. I call for Elba who creeps her way around the corner and cautiously makes her way to the knocked-out body of the Equil, I go into the storage room grab a line of rope. Bringing the rope over to the white-coated Equil and binding its arms and legs. As it lies on the ground unconscious and bleeding from its wound. With the help of Elba, we manage to lift the crippled creature onto a nearby table, while I use my belt to slow the bleeding in the leg, Elba runs to find my sewing kit and soldering iron upon my request, a minute later I start to prod the cut blood vessels with a soldering iron, the unconscious Equil then wakes screaming in pain, then promptly passes out from said pain a moment later collapsing into a heap on the table, the beast collapse writhing in the pain. With the issue of cauterizing the wound out of the way I begin the arduous work of stitching the wound back shut, the cut is about four inches in length if you consider the natural curvature of ankle-esc structure. The stitches aren’t the cleanest, nor are they the best I could do, but provided the circumstance, nature of the wound, and the cleanliness of the worksurface I’d say it was a job well done. I tilt my head to signal to Elba that it is time to leave the room. After exiting the room, I lock the door behind me with that I isolate the wounded and bound Equil nomad. 
The mounting anxiety of a potential nomad attack on the city at the river begins to climb exponentially. I turn to Elba with a bit of unintentional ice in my eyes, she almost instantly knows what I’m about to do. “I thought you said that you would never teach us to fight wars!” Elba calls to be “I was naïve in my thinking of a peaceful domination of this world, things are different now.” I coldly respond. I walk towards the bag of things I had planned to teach that Kyza boy before yelling at the Library’s AI system “When our guest wakes ensure he leaves without harming or taking anything but a meal.” The automated voice responds with a mechanical “Of Course Sir” I walk towards Elba I stand before her “Do you want to go back to the city or stay here for a while longer?” I ask. Before she answers she considers her options, she silently answers by opening her arms then asks, “Can I please have a hug?”. With the bag around my shoulders I embrace her and just like before, the tickling of teleportation takes me over from the feet upwards, and the sensation takes me over before I have the sounds of the city echoing through my ears, the smell hits next, the smells of fresh bread and the sour smell of ale distilling. I let Elba go and proceed to move towards the barracks.
The barracks are in a state of turmoil, officers are yelling at each other and the soldiers are holding each other at spear point. The blue of the royalty was still wearing their bronze gear while the other, wearing red beneath their armor, wore iron and held iron weapons. The men I recognized and shouted with the most authority I could muster “SHEATH YOUR WEAPONS GUARDS!” the shout must’ve startled most of the men as many simply dropped their weapons, I realize that most of the guards have never heard me shout. I scowl at both sides of men, some on clearly more scared than others, on my hip I no longer had a gun, rather a rapier, the officer adorned in blue and bronze mutters something to himself, I decide not to put him on blast for it thinking the situation is bad enough as it is. I walk between the two groups sizing them up with a look of disgust painted across my face. The men in iron to be ashamed at their actions, or at least more so than their bronze armed brethren. I walk over to the Guard Commander’s podium, and gripping the sides of the angled wooden slat, I, rather loudly, proclaim; “I know not why you fools think it is fit to fight and bicker amongst each other. We are facing a new predicament, a large tribe of nomads in nearing our glorious city, and the 200 men of our guard will not suffice. I have brought with me many books on fighting in organized formations, and with them I have broken my own word on not teaching you how to wage war, because from a particularly recent event.” My knuckles whiten with the memory of the massive Equil barbarian cutting my still bandaged hand, and the look of fear painted on Elba’s face only compounds my anger. “I will raise 5,000 men, and I will decide who leads what force of 500, I have with me doctrines of my people who, at the time, had similar, if not the same, technology. Of course, I have altered the progress of my people’s history to apply it to you. I am proud all the same the plasticity of your culture and how few of you resist the addition of nomads who asked to join the side of civilization, but you are unknowingly opening the pandora’s box of internal strife, of no fault of your own as it was me and the King who began our power struggle.” The men look across the isle to size up one another again. My eyes narrow as I stare down the two commanding officers, the fire in their eyes is rather small once they realize both the fire and ice in mine. “We are going have to fight off several thousands of foes in about a weeks’ time. The rather softly spoken words makes the closest men turn their heads in shock, and after realizing I have some of their attention I continue “Their men are bigger than us but unarmored and wield crude weapons, we will have to train about five-thousand men in a week, we have the weapons but we will need bows, spears, swords, shields, mainly the last of those is what we need most, as most of the men in the city and surrounding farmlands can probably bring their own weapons.” The rest of the men are looking at me now and I can sense that the civil tenseness had turned into a societal tenseness. I call to the men “Well. Are we going to knock on the palace doors because if we can’t defend this city, our empire will fall to those SAVAGES will for certain”?
Both bronze and blue and Iron and red march down the streets following me towards the palace. The Praetorians defending the palace throw down their weapons after they see what’s following me, and as I pass them, I softly say, “Oh you’ll be needing those, but not for me.” I could feel reassurance beam through the guards. Elba greets me, I smile and ask to be let in, she steps aside and looks at me with a look of concern. I wave my hand to the soldiers behind me, and with it they form tens squads of 10, each designate a sergeant amongst themselves while the two officers each take 50 men themselves included, while the Guard Commander was likely here drinking with the king, as per usual. I close the door behind me and give Elba a hug and a rather passionate kiss, a feeling that won’t get old. With a distinct giddiness about her she leads me to her father, she calls out before opening the door “Father I have brought the man I chose, and I think he has something he needs to tell you!” The door opens and a smiling King’s eyes narrow and he appears so infuriated that his smile doesn’t fade, I open the conversation with “May I have your blessing to take your daughter’s hand in marriage?” The raw fury in his eyes finally translates to the rest of his face, his lips curl into and say the most forced words I have ever heard “She has made her decision…” the veins in his neck pop out and he seems on the brink of having a heart attack or worse. After a second or two he continues the sentence “… And I accept you as a qualified suitor albeit one I have issues with.” I pipe up after the marble gargling fest that was the broken sentence. I reply with a satisfied “Great!” and switch to a much more urgent voice when I say this; “However, that is not the only matter of concern.” The King’s fury seems to dampen to a fire from an inferno, and the distinct sense of concern appears. I, holding back the full bitterness in my voice, say “A large force of several thousands of nomadic savages, the likes of which will reject the notion of civilization no doubt. To defend our city and her farmlands, I request the permission to raise a force of five to ten thousand men to defend our people, and if at all possible, take the fight to them to prevent any major harm to our people.” The King is curious and inquires “That is an enormous army. Did you humans before your “fall” have armies that large?” I smile, and answer in inquiry “Before the fall we had wars with tens of millions of soldiers fighting each other, and tens of millions of men perished in the wars.” The King asks another question “How large is a million?” I reply, “A thousand thousands, ten times the entire population of this city, and we had tens of those dying for their nation and beliefs.” The king is wide eyed, angry, but overwhelmingly curious, and asks another question “How many humans were there before your fall, how large were your peoples cites and empires?” The answer slips out of my lips “There were about eight billion humans, out largest city was Chongqing, a city of 30 million people, in a nation called China, I am not of Chinese descent, rather of the West, not of the East.” The King’s awe shines through, and he asks, “How many of us Equil do you think there are?” I answer his new question with a rather odd answer “Provided by fact that the nomads are herders of a sort I would say between fifty and a hundred and fifty million, maybe two-hundred million.” “That many!?” cried the King before correcting his demeanor. “Either way, I need your permission to raise an army to fight off the nomads.” I interrupt, the King looks at me disappointed “I heard the men outside, and I see the blade on your hip, if I don’t, you’ll either kill me on the spot or let the men outside do it for you.” I look at the king, rather baffled by his perception and with a curled lip say “Sure”.
	The day ends with stands being set up to recruit those willing to fight from the city itself. I find myself leading a group of the iron-armored men out to the surrounding farmlands to recruit young men into the archery units and the like. By the time we return to the city an army of six thousand men await training, the guards have lined out old flour barrels, using some paint they adorned it with a primitive target.
Using the books, I brought I would teach seemingly non-stop for the next week. The fastest learning men became instructors and the most innovative on the twice daily scrimmage-skirmishes became the leaders of appropriately sized forces. The noble’s son, Kyza did prove himself a capable commander and as he was of noble birth he is quite well liked by the men of his unit and from it was assigned to lead the 2nd Unit, or units 10-19, so the Ten Series. The leader of the Bronze Armored leads the first unit so units 1-9, the first unit is double in size to balance out the loss of a 0 number. The Iron armored guard leader leads the 9th Unit, leading the 90 Series. Out of the six thousand men the 2nd Unit seems most promising in terms of tactical capability but the 9th unit seems most well-disciplined.
As the weeks begins to close and the mostly exhausted men are given a day of rest before the battle, most bide their time spending time with loved ones as they wish them well and bring them their favorite meals, either that or they are too busy polishing up on their new skills, practicing strikes and thrusts. The 9th Unit spends the first half of the day doing unit training exercises, ensuring the discipline of its units. I myself lead a unit of men, but a unit a sixth the size of a normal unit, being only a hundred men. My retinue is referred to by the men as “The Berserkers” I refer to them as the reserve as I will use them not in the main battle line but as a unit that will reinforce where necessary.
Just as the sun begins to set that evening one of the scouts rides through the gates on a one of the nomad’s old riding beasts, a creature similar in stature to a horse but covered with feathers, has feet rather than hooves, and unlike horses has a four-chambered stomach, but unlike birds it lacks a beak in favor of a mouth full of teeth. My infatuation is short lived yet again as the panicked guard begins to ramble on in a crude mix of English, Equil, and his tribal language, but from the look on the other guards’ faces I can tell it’s no good. The guard next to me, who bears the same tribal marking, he, in English, shouts “TWELVE THOUSAND?!?!” Even my normal cool is broken, the guard goes just outside the walls and vomits out his last meal, the scout is given a bottle of liquor, and I down a pint of ale. “Change of Plans” I announce. The sun set and I find myself still working on battle plans.
	I finally settle on a new formation, as the dust kicked up by the horde of nomads, The men of the more solid units resolve solidifying as each moment passes, the leaders of each unit giving each unit seeming giving them their own culture, the 7th and 3rd units have requested face coverings to “reduce strife” among the soldiers, a request given. As I walk by the armies, some men are very anxious and the others seem to have had their souls already gone, as if they’ve already resolved to die here and that their bodies are but shells. The oddest of these men is one who has appeared to have cut the cross into their chest, at least that’s what the bloodstain on his white shirt would give away.
By the time we can see our foes some already look battered and beaten, by the time the horde divides into formations it is painfully obvious that the farmers have been giving them hell. The army was unprepared, under armed, but vast in number, so it balanced out. Our men were a mixed bag of armor quality based on assigned task, but the miners in the mountains had been doing rather well delivering out ton after ton of iron on the weekly, the archers are probably are best equipped soldiers, armed with their traditional longbows and sabers and armored with leather chests and iron helms. The cavalry units are also rather critical when it comes to dealing with routed men, not to mention the morale effects of the creatures on the battlefield.
I cut my reflection on the value of unit variety in order to reassure the men that this fight is ours. The six thousand men all lined on the street, the one of four men prepared to go to their assigned formations, a unit to guard each of the single men entrances and four on each of the main gates. In the coming hours sappers dig traps, others place stinging or thorny plants atop the walls and make the dirt road a rutty mess, forcing our foe in to lowered kill-zones and making them run through sharp and shifting rocks.
The funnels made of hay bales and turned over cart wagons. Leading to kill-zones of pikes, axes, and blades. The archers stand on balconies and atop whatever may give them a height advantage, some have even taken to the roofs, the enemy was within reach, for both of our armies, the overwhelming sense of assured victory attracted our forces to one another, the men forming tight shield walls while lines of pikes the wooden shafts poking through the shield wall. The readied men stare as the light of torches grows more intense as the twelve thousand men approach. The nomads surround the city’s two main entrances. Before they assault the gates with the rude rams they’ve built, I pull reallocate some men to the hidden exits, just in case a certain opportunity arises.
	The battle begins as a great ram begins its approach to the walls, the battle-damaged men, pushing the massive ram, the archers almost pity them as they pelt them with their arrows, sadly most of the ram pushers did make it to the gate as the arrows mainly the overhand of the ram. I learned that you could smell anxiety that day, the scent was a pungent ripe smell, sour to the nose. But as the bronze gate finally shattered after a good hour of beating on the bronze bars the first finally broke, nearly immediately followed by the next, the army that had followed the battering ram finally came into range of the archers, the first men fell with ease, the arrows tearing through flesh with little effort, the following lines were smart enough to raise their hide or wooden shields to where the flint arrows came from. A single decision that would save so many of their lives makes my job of defending this city a much, much, harder task. The stone axes and crude spears that seem to be the weapons of choice of the nomads are numerous, but the weapons of the leaders were lances tipped with some sort of metal, likely copper from the glint.
	The Equil pouring through front gate seem to be quite weary about approaching the lines of axes and swords, but the constant flow pushed the reluctant men right into the pikes. The low grounds soon began to turn to sludge further increasing the efficiency of which the pikemen could work their deadly trade, the axemen took it upon themselves to end the wounded nomads.