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Flight of the Baphomet: Beginnings
16 years ago
It's an infernal machine, built to destroy
It's a weapon of hope, bringing freedom to all
It's my child, the Baphomet, King of the Skies!
And I refuse to let my Child be used as a tool
My Child is its own person, with its own will
I won't let anyone take that from me.
"Sir! Engine number five has failed! We're down another thirty per cent of power!" a bridge officer yelled over the chaos of fire and death. Her gloved fingers gripped the shattered frame of the dieing airship. "Captain! We have to land!" she yelled again, repeating herself again. "I heard you the first time, Layla!" he yelled, pulling himself back into the captain's chair. "Helm! Adjust course twelve degrees starboard!" the Captain yelled. "Twelve degrees, aye, sir!" Layla yelled in return.
She lunged to wheel, pulling it peg by peg. "All hands, prepare for emergency landing!" Looking out a the last second, he ducked, avoiding the lance-like top of a tree smashing through the glass and finding its mark on one of the red-clad emergency crewmen. "By the stars above!" he halfway yelled. "Brace for impact!" Layla yelled.
The captain threw his hands up
And as the rusted twist of burning metal and gasses fell like a forsaken angel, he slowly sailed downward via a piece of canvas used as a makeshift paraglide. He could still hear the voices sceraming.
And as the Baphomet crashed, it sent up a flair of scorched earth and timber. The bleeding Dragon laid there, its front furnace instantly spilling its hydrogen and coal and igniting the forest.
And as the Child exploded, he held the six trinkets in his hand. He clutched them to his chest, whispering, "There, there, my child..."
My vendetta with Pirate is over,
My family avenged.
Let my Child sleep forever.
Until the Angels return,
Let my Child sleep forever.
THE PRIEST
He walked through the uncomfortably empty street, rosary in hand. He knew it was late, but sometimes even a man of God still had much on his mind. He wrapped the beaded string around his finger and prayed, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." His cassock gave him a gentle yet menacing appearance. In the City That Never Sleeps, he was almost by himself if not for the random passer-by, homeless, or other night owls. Those that saw him, bowed their heads and continued walking, giving a feeling of respect to him along with a blessing. He kept walking, one hand behind his back the other holding his wooden beads.
"Father," the jacketed stranger said placing a gloved hand on the Priest's shoulder. The padre smiled in return. "I knew you would eventually show. The wars are about to begin again, yes?" he said, tucking the rosary into his sash. The Stranger held out a small case to him. "The calling has begun. We need it back." And as the priest opened it up, he heard the familiar whirring of gears and springs, foreign to anyone unless you knew its sequence.
With a look of concern, he closed the case and handed it back. "If it is true that the Machine is being reassembled, we'll need the crew. One cannot simply fly the warship by oneself." The Stranger nodded in response and said, "Which is where we need you. The Baphomet must fly again." The Priest sighed and looked up at church he called home. "Glorious Saint Michael, be with us with shield in our time of need," he said, then looking to the Stranger who bowed his head in prayer as well. "Follow me. We don't have much time."
THE ENGINEER
It was more than a school, it was a power plant. The Engine Room, as it was called, turned steam into electricity and students into Steamers, as it were. Dynamos whirred, coal was shoveled into the furnaces, men and women yelled back and forth, keeping the full-capacity boiler at its fill point, nothing higher nothing lower. It was a dangerous job, bringing power to the people, but these handful of engineers and mechanics were the true technological wonder. They worked like honey bees in a hive, jumping from here to there, waiting for a new problem to present itself only to be quickly corrected. Among them, walking patiently, was the Engineer. There she stood, the Main Gate key strapped to her back like some kind of weapon. She tightened the sleeves that knotted around her waist and leaned over the railings, one leg in the air. "Kyle, keep an eye on number eight! It's been off by eight pounds recently! Lemme know if you have any problems!" "You got it, ma'am!" Kyle yelled back, giving a coal-covered thumbs up. She giggled and went into her office. Nobody really knew her name, nor did anyone ever ask. She was used to being called "ma'am," "babe," and "darling." It wasn't disrespect. She just liked it that way. She took the Main Gate key, the key that started the flywheels of the Engine Room and put it in its collective corner and then took her own collective seat. She rubbed her temples, thinking of the next day's events. Boiler eight was still off by eight pounds, it was time to grease the axles for Engine Five. "Ma'am?" someone said outside her door, knocking as well. "Yeah, come on in. I ain't naked." she said, not even looking up as a grease covered female student leaned in. "Some of the others along with myself were wondering-"
"Two days topside, kid," she said, not turning back to the kid. "You gotta learn everything and I run a real tight ship. You either come back or that door don't ever open for you again. Everybody gets one." "..y..yes, ma'am," she said, closing the door. "And enjoy those two days, kid!" the Engineer yelled before the door shut.
Once again, the knocks came back. "Glory above, what the hell do you want?!" She bolted from the couch and stomped to the door. "WHAT?!" she yelled, facing the Stranger. He opened the small box and it began its tinkering. Her rage subsided, listening to the secret message that overpowered the hissing engines outside. "Get in here," she said, yanking him in by the vest. The Stranger brushed his dark suit straight, his face still hidden by his low brimmed hat. "Who the hell are you and how did you get that message?" she said, looking at the shadowed figure in front of her. "Your presence is needed, Madame Engineer," he said, never moving as an explosion rocked the office. Voices echoed outside, most laughing though, the hustling footsteps of students on their way out echoed as they rushed to fix the project boiler. "Gimmie one second," she said to him. The Stranger looked to her and then stepped to the side. The Engineer whistled out the window. "Yo, Dante! Get up to the office!" "Right away, darlin!" replied a voice. "Someone's gotta be in charge," she said, zipping up her coveralls. She jotted down a quick note and stuck it on the Gate key, then looked to the Stranger and smiled.
"At least the Archangel Jophiel will be with us."
It's a weapon of hope, bringing freedom to all
It's my child, the Baphomet, King of the Skies!
And I refuse to let my Child be used as a tool
My Child is its own person, with its own will
I won't let anyone take that from me.
"Sir! Engine number five has failed! We're down another thirty per cent of power!" a bridge officer yelled over the chaos of fire and death. Her gloved fingers gripped the shattered frame of the dieing airship. "Captain! We have to land!" she yelled again, repeating herself again. "I heard you the first time, Layla!" he yelled, pulling himself back into the captain's chair. "Helm! Adjust course twelve degrees starboard!" the Captain yelled. "Twelve degrees, aye, sir!" Layla yelled in return.
She lunged to wheel, pulling it peg by peg. "All hands, prepare for emergency landing!" Looking out a the last second, he ducked, avoiding the lance-like top of a tree smashing through the glass and finding its mark on one of the red-clad emergency crewmen. "By the stars above!" he halfway yelled. "Brace for impact!" Layla yelled.
The captain threw his hands up
And as the rusted twist of burning metal and gasses fell like a forsaken angel, he slowly sailed downward via a piece of canvas used as a makeshift paraglide. He could still hear the voices sceraming.
And as the Baphomet crashed, it sent up a flair of scorched earth and timber. The bleeding Dragon laid there, its front furnace instantly spilling its hydrogen and coal and igniting the forest.
And as the Child exploded, he held the six trinkets in his hand. He clutched them to his chest, whispering, "There, there, my child..."
My vendetta with Pirate is over,
My family avenged.
Let my Child sleep forever.
Until the Angels return,
Let my Child sleep forever.
THE PRIEST
He walked through the uncomfortably empty street, rosary in hand. He knew it was late, but sometimes even a man of God still had much on his mind. He wrapped the beaded string around his finger and prayed, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." His cassock gave him a gentle yet menacing appearance. In the City That Never Sleeps, he was almost by himself if not for the random passer-by, homeless, or other night owls. Those that saw him, bowed their heads and continued walking, giving a feeling of respect to him along with a blessing. He kept walking, one hand behind his back the other holding his wooden beads.
"Father," the jacketed stranger said placing a gloved hand on the Priest's shoulder. The padre smiled in return. "I knew you would eventually show. The wars are about to begin again, yes?" he said, tucking the rosary into his sash. The Stranger held out a small case to him. "The calling has begun. We need it back." And as the priest opened it up, he heard the familiar whirring of gears and springs, foreign to anyone unless you knew its sequence.
With a look of concern, he closed the case and handed it back. "If it is true that the Machine is being reassembled, we'll need the crew. One cannot simply fly the warship by oneself." The Stranger nodded in response and said, "Which is where we need you. The Baphomet must fly again." The Priest sighed and looked up at church he called home. "Glorious Saint Michael, be with us with shield in our time of need," he said, then looking to the Stranger who bowed his head in prayer as well. "Follow me. We don't have much time."
THE ENGINEER
It was more than a school, it was a power plant. The Engine Room, as it was called, turned steam into electricity and students into Steamers, as it were. Dynamos whirred, coal was shoveled into the furnaces, men and women yelled back and forth, keeping the full-capacity boiler at its fill point, nothing higher nothing lower. It was a dangerous job, bringing power to the people, but these handful of engineers and mechanics were the true technological wonder. They worked like honey bees in a hive, jumping from here to there, waiting for a new problem to present itself only to be quickly corrected. Among them, walking patiently, was the Engineer. There she stood, the Main Gate key strapped to her back like some kind of weapon. She tightened the sleeves that knotted around her waist and leaned over the railings, one leg in the air. "Kyle, keep an eye on number eight! It's been off by eight pounds recently! Lemme know if you have any problems!" "You got it, ma'am!" Kyle yelled back, giving a coal-covered thumbs up. She giggled and went into her office. Nobody really knew her name, nor did anyone ever ask. She was used to being called "ma'am," "babe," and "darling." It wasn't disrespect. She just liked it that way. She took the Main Gate key, the key that started the flywheels of the Engine Room and put it in its collective corner and then took her own collective seat. She rubbed her temples, thinking of the next day's events. Boiler eight was still off by eight pounds, it was time to grease the axles for Engine Five. "Ma'am?" someone said outside her door, knocking as well. "Yeah, come on in. I ain't naked." she said, not even looking up as a grease covered female student leaned in. "Some of the others along with myself were wondering-"
"Two days topside, kid," she said, not turning back to the kid. "You gotta learn everything and I run a real tight ship. You either come back or that door don't ever open for you again. Everybody gets one." "..y..yes, ma'am," she said, closing the door. "And enjoy those two days, kid!" the Engineer yelled before the door shut.
Once again, the knocks came back. "Glory above, what the hell do you want?!" She bolted from the couch and stomped to the door. "WHAT?!" she yelled, facing the Stranger. He opened the small box and it began its tinkering. Her rage subsided, listening to the secret message that overpowered the hissing engines outside. "Get in here," she said, yanking him in by the vest. The Stranger brushed his dark suit straight, his face still hidden by his low brimmed hat. "Who the hell are you and how did you get that message?" she said, looking at the shadowed figure in front of her. "Your presence is needed, Madame Engineer," he said, never moving as an explosion rocked the office. Voices echoed outside, most laughing though, the hustling footsteps of students on their way out echoed as they rushed to fix the project boiler. "Gimmie one second," she said to him. The Stranger looked to her and then stepped to the side. The Engineer whistled out the window. "Yo, Dante! Get up to the office!" "Right away, darlin!" replied a voice. "Someone's gotta be in charge," she said, zipping up her coveralls. She jotted down a quick note and stuck it on the Gate key, then looked to the Stranger and smiled.
"At least the Archangel Jophiel will be with us."
