Everman and Sparky (Prologue)mature

Brice Watershaper, aged just a hair over eighteen years, stood tall underneath a finely trimmed covering of surprisingly blond hair. His body was trimmed and lean, sculpted well from having vigilantly combated the ever-present menace of fat cells by participating in marathons and academy-sponsored athleticism. His facial features were sharp, punctuated by stark lines and harsh angles, and completely unhindered by a shred of hair. He took great care in his appearance, but bore no specific pride for it.

Complimenting his grooming etiquette and structural physique, Brice bore special attention to his studies, having surpassed his basic academics to move on to specialized instruction well ahead of the others of his age-group. He was developing a passion for engineering and mechanical science, taking keen interest in the design of the aero- and aquafoils. The relatively recent discovery and manufacture of these two pieces of engineering genius had radically transformed the technological landscape of his world within only the last few decades. Based on pictures from his history books, the changes between the now and the back-then, before those two engines, were stark and bewildering, comparable to when men beat each other with sharpened sticks and lived in caves.

With a well-honed and sharpened mind and body, one might think that Brice did this for personal gain, but they would be mistaken. Brice desired to advance himself and pursue life to its fullest for the sake of those that could not. He desired only to live when surrounded by so many that were not granted even the privilege of drawing breath.

Lily Watershaper, his younger sister whom he loved dearly, was one of these unfortunates. Brice looked in through the large viewing window of his sister's room, located on the fourteenth floor of the most prestigious clinic in the city, and knew her to be dying. The powers that be, the cruel and heartless sons-of-bitches that they were, had chosen to allow him to live whilst forcing Death down the throat of this fourteen year old girl, stifling her with agony and suffering along the way.

Lily Watershaper had contracted the Black Spot. It was a widespread plague affecting a staggering percentage of their population, bringing their world to its knees. Many people contracted it. Others did not. The targets of the Black Spot seemed entirely random. Scientists were baffled when trying to predict its movements. It swept across the nations like an invisible serial killer. It seemed uncaring, just as cold and heartless as the higher powers that had conceived it and allowed it to be.

First, the victim suffered mild symptoms similar to that of the cold bug. Then, three days later, a large dark spot, for which the disease is named, formed on the victim's throat. The symptoms then intensified. Then a week later, two at most... they died. From healthy and full of life to morgue tenant in only three weeks. It was maddening. It was completely unfair, and utterly irrational.

And it was beyond anyone's power to control.

Brice pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, looking in on his younger sis. He closed his eyes, imagining better times, which had been only two weeks prior. Half a month ago they had been a family. Now, Lily had less than a week. Mum was devastated, unable to stop crying. Her heart had been ripped from her chest, Brice knew, and he did not think she would ever recover.

Their father was but a ghost of himself, naught more than an empty shell with motorized legs and arms. He rarely spoke. He rarely even looked at Brice anymore. The few times he did, Brice could not hold his gaze, because the light behind father's eyes had gone out. The person who was his father had all but died, perhaps forever, leaving an automaton in his place, carrying on his duties as breadwinner.

Soon Brice would be the only son, he knew. As much as he did for himself, in his academics and physical routines, to atone for the misery of the community around him, he could do nothing more for them. He could do nothing more for his own sister; could do nothing to save her life than he could to save the life of his neighbor's son, or his grandmother, or his two uncles. He was helpless against the onslaught of the Black Spot. The helplessness led to unbearable sadness. The sadness fueled the fires of his rage. His anger led him to keep living, and to keep himself toned. During his exercises, should be become tired, he need only think of the suffering around him, of what his own sister was enduring, and he found that he could push his body to great limits.

It was anger now that Brice felt. This was the umpteenth time he had entered the clinic since Lily fell ill. His visits were innumerable. And it this anger Brice felt that balled his hands into fists as he leaned against the glass. He leaned back slightly and beat his forehead against the glass once in frustration. It hurt. That was good.

Dazed slightly, Brice glanced around out of the corner of his eyes to see if anybody had witnessed that. The impact had sobered him up somewhat, and straightened together his thoughts.

Pushing aside his frustrations at powers he could not control, Brice pushed open the door to Lily's room and strode inside.