Dorian runs to keep up with his larger, older brother, Cyrus.
“Cyrus, wait!” His young voice cracks out amongst the crowd.
They’re in the centre of Zion, a place their parents would be appalled to find their boys. Crowds of citizens throng against each other, as everyone weaves to the plaza centre to get a better look and to hear what’s going on.
Suddenly, strong arms grab Dorian, and Cyrus pulls him forward. “I guess this is as far as we’re getting today.” Cyrus lifts the younger boy onto his shoulders so he can see.
Two young men stand up on a makeshift pedestal of shipping crates. A loudspeaker held in the taller man’s hand. His tightly braided hair shines in the amber light of the space. Even from this distance, Dorian can see she also has a light layer of dust on his otherwise gleaming skin.
“The Resistance!” He shouts emotionally into the megaphone.
“The Resistance!” The crowd cheers in echo.
Dorian and Cyrus shout along with them. Raising a fist to the sky in solidarity.
After he has amped the crowd up, he turns to the shorter man. “And now, the man you’ve all been waiting for. Orym!” He leans down and kisses him on the cheek.
Orym wears a baggy shirt in an attempt at modesty, hiding his well-toned body. His hair is cropped short and his face is chiselled into a stony, serious look. He steps up onto the crate and looks out over the crowd.
Dorian imagines they make eye contact for a moment. He’s absolutely captivated.
“Zion.” Orym starts. “Zion!” He shouts like a bear.
The crowd cheers even louder for him. This is why they’re all here. To hear from the young Resistance fighter.
“We are real, we are here, and we are fighting for your freedom!” Orym continues, shouting over the roar captivated onlookers. “A few years ago, I was asleep. Ignorant of the reality of this Earth. I was under the machine’s spell.”
The crowd now holds their breath, hanging on to his every word.
“But then I was freed, and delivered to you!” Orym pauses again to allow for more cheers. “I have dedicated my life to The Cause. And now, I have more promise for you.” He turns slowly, reaching out to grasp the other Resistance member’s hand. “The Oracle has spoken to me. She who knows all. She has told me I will find The One who will deliver us to true freedom. The One who will tip the scales in our favour and end the war once and for all!”
The crowd cheers even louder than before, the noise echoing in the square and up alleyways. A rhythmic drumming starts, and singing soon accompanies it. Orym steps down, and another Resistance member steps up. The rally continues, and Dorian looks on, stars in his eyes atop Cyrus’ shoulders. Orym’s words resonate throughout his mind. He’s truly inspired.
//
Less than five years later, Dorian is a man and old enough to join the Resistance himself. His mother wants him to stay close to home, helping the city’s defences. She tells him he has such a way with words, maybe he could be on the Council one day.
But Dorian yearns for adventure. He wants to travel, to fly, to fight the unknown.
On this day, Cyrus comes rushing through the door. Dorian hasn’t seen his brother in almost a year. It’s a blissful reunion, but Cyrus has an agenda.
“The Nebuchadnezzar is hiring!” Cyrus exclaims after breaking their embrace. “I spoke with one of the ship’s crew this morning, and they could take both of us!”
Dorian stares wide-eyed at his brother, marvelling at this good fortune. “For real? Captain Orym’s ship? Do I need to interview? Or…?”
“Just grab your stuff and come on!” Cyrus exclaims.
The brothers rush out the door into the start of a brand new adventure. One that will continue, with triumphs and setbacks, hardship and promise of a better future, for another ten memorable years.
This is a fan fiction piece; the characters are not my own. Everything is completely fictional. It takes place in a cyberpunk world and draws inspiration from Critical Role characters, the Matrix movies, and other post-apocalyptic cyberpunk content.