The rough versions of The Darkling Plain (book 1).

(Note: If there is inconsistencies in character development, any plot holes, or reads like horrid fanfiction, I apologize in advance; rough drafts are supposed to be a "gist" of what you want a book to be (like a concept draft, but more solid).)

Epigraph

"Ah, love, let us be true

To one another! for the world, which seems

To lie before us like a land of dreams,

So various, so beautiful, so new,

Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,

Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;

And we are here as on a darkling plain

Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,

Where ignorant armies clash by night."

- Matthew Arnold, Dover Beach (lines 29-37)

Book One: Earth

"Book One: Earth" is the (first) rough draft of The Darkling Plain (book 1). It gains its name from the Earth, a Primal element.

Part One: A Grating Roar

Chapter One: The Ceremony

While a temple was a place of solemn sacredness, it was not where Hester belonged.

She wanted to stay in Teign's Museum for the rest of her days, but her bosses urged her to get out every once in a while.

They said being cooped up obsessing over revolutions was deteriorating. While they were right, Hester knew that most people didn't know that it was occurring right under their noses.

The day when the candidates become full-fledged Engineers occurred two to three times each year. (Although the third one didn't occur due to a multitude of reasons.) As such, everyone put in their best efforts to make it as memorable as possible.

Hester had seen this process before during training. A candidate first undressed themselves before putting a loose robe; this would allow an easier entry into the cage that lowered to the Gut, where the Great Engines lied.

After a bit, the candidate would return – usually burned and scarred. How much skin was burned determined their ranking and occupation. Those whose body was scarred a little bit (like just a finger) were considered "low-powered" and given menial tasks like Sweet Sweeper. Those with larger scars (like a face or an arm) were considered "normal" and assigned to Law Enforcement or Turret Duty.

To be on Turret Duty was considered a great honor. A chance to defend the city from enemy airships and mages.

But to others, like Hester, it was considered a death sentence. Sure, you got glory and fame in here and now. But at what cost?

She pulled the flask on her hip and drank a bit of coffee.

The cure for boredom and fear.

Being a journalist, she was positioned near the cage in front of the altar to Eprt, the god of Engineering (alongside some other Important Figures).

The inner sanctum was loud with families gossiping, and it rank of their natural odors.

The complete opposite of the Museum. Quiet, ancient, and informative.

Beside her, a tall dark-skinned Engineer walked up to the space between the alter and the cage.

Gradually, everyone noticed him and the chatter died out.

For the love of Preave, please don't drag this out.

"Good morning, everyone. Thank you for taking time out of your day to celebrate our most priceless people – Engineers."

Hester took out her notebook and a pen from the bag slung on her shoulder and started scribbling down the man's words.

"Before we start, let us pray to Eprt."

The man turned. In response, everyone bowed their heads. Hester followed suit, but only out of respect. She didn't believe in Eprt. He had abandoned her a long time ago.

The man droned a traditional prayer and blessing for the candidates. At the end, everyone collectively said "Amen". "Let it be true."

Turning to the crowd, the Engineer beckoned to the column of young people in the middle of the room. The first person to approach was a young woman.

"Name?"

"Agatha Adamson."

Hester scribbled her name and description down.

"Agatha, are you ready to serve your city?"

"Yes, sir."

Hester wrote that down too. And shuddered.

Agatha stepped into the cage and disrobed, giving the garment to the man, who signaled to what seemed like a "low-powered" Engineer to lower the cage to the Gut.

The Ceremony had begun.

______________

Many of the candidates were "normal". Few were "low-powered".

Hester recorded all their identities in her notebook, ready to report on them to the Historians.

Now, there were several others left. (They were all arranged by surname in alphabetic order.)

The next candidate who approached the cage and the Engineer was a young man with a mop of dark hair.

"Name?"

"Nathaniel Nattering."

"Nathaniel, are you ready to serve your city?"

"Yes, sir."

Nattering strode into the cage and disrobed.

The cage went down, and everyone waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

More waiting.

Until the lead Engineer nodded to the operator, who pulled the cage up.

The machinery whirred and clicked as it did its preprogrammed job.

Soon, the cage had arrived back – and Nattering looked spooked.

His dark eyes were terrifyingly wide. He was holding his wrist, showing that one of his fingers had been burned.

Hester went forward as he disembarked. The Engineer gave him his robe.

"Nathaniel?"

The young man's eyes shifted towards her.

"They're here", he squawked.

"Who?"

Nathaniel swallowed awkwardly.

"The Wheeled Wraith. They're here."

Chapter Two: Corridors

The Wheeled Wraith haunted the Gut of traction cities.

They murdered random people, usually those who held a fraction of power holding the lower Tiers together.

Why they did this, no one knew.

If one saw them, you were dead. But there were times when the Wraith locked eyes with a person and let them live. (Those people were deemed "insane" or "drunk".)

"You saw the Wraith?" Hester inquired.

Nathaniel nodded. "A shadow. It flitted between the causeways."

The lead Engineer sighed. "That was a worker."

"No, I know what I saw." The boy's eyes were still fearfully wide. "Someone needs to investigate."

He glanced at Hester, who stepped back as an assistant helped him out and placed the loose robe back on him.

The aide took Nathaniel by the arm, leading him out as the next young person stepped up to the cage.

______________

The statement gnawed at Hester's brain long after the Ceremony was over.

"The Wheeled Wraith. They're here. ... Someone needs to investigate."

She allowed the public transport to take her and several other passengers to Tier Seven, the hellish underbelly of any traction city.

If she needed to do anything, it was that.

Spending her time telling stories for the Historians paled in comparison to her passion for the truth and Ancient recipes.

Soon, the vehicle landed at the station for Tier Seven.

"Engineering Station", the announcement stated. "Dismantling Yards. Immigration. Mind the gap."

Hester went with the crowd into the hot, steam-filled tunnel-esque streets. Sweat started to soak her armpits, and leak through the sleeves of her shirt and greatcoat.

Using the street signs, she made her way to the heart of the Tier - the Dismantling and Scrap Yards.

It was a cavernous place, where catwalks and causeways hung from the ceiling. People crawled around the place, feeding this into the Engines or chastising that Apprentice Engineer for pissing around while on duty.

Hester took her time prowling and wandering the place. She searched for any place where the Wraith might lurk.

Unrepaired supports, blistering dank alleyways. Anywhere.

She didn't find anything... except for something.

Stopping in front of a corridor, she saw a lanky figure illuminated by the pale orange lights and enrobed in thick clouds of steam.

Hester's heart stopped.

The Wraith.

Many had speculated about what the urban legend resembled. The most common depiction showed them wielded retractable blades and clad in black, obscuring their face.

This flew in the face of all rumors.

The Wraith was open with their appearance, but why?

The figure seemed to sense Hester and came closer, closer, closer.

Hester wanted to bolt to the nearest catwalk, but fear, terror, and wonder paralyzed her.

Then the face came into view.

They were a young man, around her age. His hair was brown, shaggy, and covered his dark eyes. He wore dirty, used garments; the living embodiment of the earth itself.

"Come with me, comrade."

Chapter Three: Fallout

Hester didn't have any time to inquire, as the stranger gripped her hand and dragged her down the corridor.

Metal and steam whirled past her, as he led her in directions that didn't make sense.

It kept going, and going, and going. Until a balcony filled her vision.

Jutting over an open silo, below and beneath it trash flowed the curve of it.

They had reached the waste chute.

Oh, shit.

The man let go of Hester and jumped over the handrail. He gestured with his head for her to follow him.

As if he were a magnet, she followed him and they both fell out of the city.

______________

"I swear she must've gone down to the Gut."

"Well, knowing Hester, she definitely did that."

Stockleigh Pomeroy, in the Museum of Teign, is interrogating the Historians on why the journalist hasn't given the Engineers a write-up on the new mages.

He hadn't expected that she was wasted potential.

Like her mother.

The person whom Pomeroy was speaking to was a coworker: Rebecca Kingsbridge. She was close friends with the Historian, and seemed to know her (as if she were her sister).

"So, I should put all of my people on alert?"

"If she's in danger, yes. But if she's just poking around, I wouldn't recommend it."

Pomeroy nodded, though he'd rather be safe than sorry.

"Thank you, Ms. Kingsbridge."

The young woman thanked him in return, and walked away.

Pomeroy turned and strode towards the exit.

Chapter Four: Legends

The wastelands had a soundtrack of its own.

Wind blew over the track marks, while the distant boom, boom, boom of traction cities echoed across the scarred plains.

Hester shivered in her greatcoat. It was the only thing protecting her from the elements, yet it didn't do the same for the mage who had taken her out of Teign.

The man had coerced her through the corridors and out of the waste chute, and for what?

Torture?

Amusement?

Boom, boom, boom.

The man stopped and gestured with his hand for Hester to stop as well.

She obeyed.

Above, grey clouds threatened dismay.

Boom, boom, boom.

"Get back."

Boom, boom, boom.

"I said, get back!"

The man whirled around and plowed into Hester, forcing them into a crevasse in the track wall.

At the last minute, an agile mountain of metal emerged, breaking and churning the earth below.

It was narrow and several tiers tall. Men was scattered over the place. Some that looked to be Engineers flanked the edges like decaying searchlights.

Fumes blew into the duo's nostrils, acrid and horrid.

Hester wanted to cough, but the man placed a dirty hand over her mouth.

The small town wheeled around the track marks for a bit before going off on its own business.

The man still kept his grip on Hester for one breath, two, three; until it was fully gone.

He moved away.

"Thought you'd be more attuned that us."

His voice was youthful, yet mature.

"Excuse me?" was all Hester could say.

She had no idea what he was talking about, or if he was even speaking to her.

She slid out of the crevasse and landed in a nearby puddle.

Great Engines!

Mud and filthy water streaked the black boot. She lifted it out gingerly, and started following the man again.

He stopped and turned. "You're Shaugh Prior, right? The journalist who snuck into several of our meetings?"

Hester stopped.

How did–?

"Eh?"

"Shaugh Prior, right?"

She swallowed.

Did this young man really trek across Iysl for her?

If so, what was his motivations?

She didn't know, but she had to confess.

"Yes, I am."

The man walked towards her plainly.

"I'm Pip of the Ruined. You've become a legend amongst us."

The Ruined have come for me?

The echoing booms of the Ruined's sworn enemies were faint now.

"What do you want with me?"

"Nothing, that's all. We're just interested in having a journalist amongst us."

"To...?"

"To tell the traction cities of an alternative way of living. One where no one suffers for the sake of the few. One where we are liberation from the chains of oppression."

"Oppression".

That phrase sent alarm bells through Hester's mind.

They had come after her.

"You want a member of polite society to tell the others about their shit?"

Pip nodded. "I'll take you to one of our bases. There, we'll set you up."

"What if I refuse?"

"Eh?"

"You heard me."

"Well, you'd be no use to us. And that's shame. You'd be thrown to the dogs and be judged by them."

So, it's either join or die.

He could've just said that and cut the talk short.

Of course, the Ruined are flowery in their talk and writings.

But I have no choice.

She nodded. "Alright. I'll help you."

Pip smiled. It was not an eerie smile, like what the pundits told their audience, but one of hope.

Hope of abolishing tractionism it was.

He gestured for Hester to follow him.

"Come on then. Let's find a moving air-harbor."

Chapter Five: Geared Blades

It took them several days to find a moving air-harbor.

The neutral, single-tiered traction towns were few and far between, so Pip had to study the track marks to determine where one was going.

Tracking was a tool in Hester's skillset, but the man was showing that her's were of no use.

The duo had followed a set of track marks that headed the central Wastelands (or, at least, somewhere), where airships of all types were landing on one of these towns.

"That's how you know one is nearby", Pip pointed out. "The same docking shit as Skylum, just at a lower altitude."

I bet that there's a cell on Skylum. That's how he was able to notice it.

Hester shivered in her dirty greatcoat as they pressed on, the cold seeping into their clothes.

There's a Ruined cell on Skylum.

We're fucking dead.

______________

They landed in the Engine District, which was similar to Teign's Gut but worse.

Smog and fumes stung their eyes and nostrils as they got up and strode through the place.

Gut workers didn't seem to notice them. They were just passersby curious about the shit down below.

Eventually, they climbed a path and emerged into the same cold greyness when they were wandering the Wastelands.

Except that it was slightly better than before. And there were people.

People hawking their wares in a local market.

People waddling angrily in drunken fits from one bar to another.

_______________________________

[This chapter also introduced the character of Charles Chalmers II ("Charles Thomas"), but I didn't have the guts to finish it. (Mainly because I'm trying to reclaim my writing style after not doing a manuscript (and reading books) for some time.) So, here it is in it's unfinished glory.]

Chapter Six: The Aide

Back on the traction city of Terhune, Nathaniel Nattering has been assigned the role of aiding a disabled, "normal-powered" Engineer. The person, a female named "Katherine", he is assigned to is a blind and mute as a result of burning their face in the Great Engines.

_______________________________

[I wrote the summary of this chapter, so I wouldn't drag myself through the draft.]

Part Two: The Collective

Chapter Seven: Delivering the Messenger

The Curtain Child was old, but usable.

Pip handed the controls easily, as he was an aviator in a past life.

Hester sat next to him in the co-pilot's seat, watching him. Her dark eyes were glued on the man's bony hands.

The soft purrs of the engine pods filled the cabin. No one spoke, not even the ragged figure who was the Wraith.

Hester had expected more. (At least the assumptions about being clad in back and retractable blades were true.) The Wraith was terrifying, and not in a good way.

That scar... That disfigured face...

Just thinking about it made her want to retch.

Pip seemed to sense her thoughts, although he kept flying.

"Run to the toilet if you need to", he said.

Hester swallowed and tried to keep it in. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's just..."

She trailed. How was she supposed to explain her feelings?

"I talked to him", Pip said. "The Wraith. He's one of us."

Ice froze Hester.

"I recognize him from when the cells gathered once. Although, he was not as murder-y then."

Pip paused. "Hrrm..."

Hester couldn't speak. Nor did she know what she felt.

The only thing she could think was, I'm surrounded by revolutionaries.

Revolutionaries. Revolutionaries everywhere.

"Yes", Pip mused, in a hybrid way of speaking. "Yes, I remember his name. Charles... something. Very dignified name for a comrade."

"Charles?" Hester choked. "That's his name?"

"What? Were you expecting his name to be something like 'Albert' or 'Edwin'? Something grand?" He scoffed. "Most killers are people right under your nose. And they're pretty good at hiding it too."

Behind them, footsteps pattered towards the cockpit.

Hester turned.

The Wraith (or "Charles", she should say) was coming.

Before the wrenching sensation returned, she turned back and focused on the forward windows. The clouds were a thick grey-and-white blanket blow, while the sky was a dying blue above. Night was dawning.

Pip checked several gadgets on the controls, including one with a peculiar green screen with white wriggles and red markers.

"We should be at the Teignfort Chapter soon", he announced to both Hester and Charles.

"Teignfort", Charles growled. His voice was corrupted warmth.

Maybe that's because of the scar. It fucked up his voice.

"You don't like it?" Pip inquired.

"Why not go to one of the obscure Chapters instead?"

"Well, we need to get our comrade here to tell the oligarchs that a great revolution is coming. And she needs to experience it for herself."

"So... giving the messenger information?"

"Exactly."

______________

It was all too much.

Hester was on the back deck of the airship, processing it.

Wind gently blew her long brown hair, throwing some strand into its currents.

So, the Ruined's plan is to capture a journalist (or anyone who infiltrated their events) and show them their utopia to prepare the bourgeoisie for their eventual demise?

Sounds... sounds like they're doing my job.

Hester was the only one reporting on the Ruined, yet no one took her seriously.

Except Becca.

She was curious, but needed a nudge in the right direction.

Clunk.

Hester turned.

It was Charles, standing in the doorway.

No doubt to tell me that we're approaching.

As if on cue, the clouds started covering the ship as it left the open sky.

She clenched the wooden railing for a brief moment before pushing her way past the gargoyle and into the cabin.

Clunk.

Hester strode towards the flight deck at the bows and slid into the co-pilot's seat.

Pip's fingers were deftly on the controls, lowering the Curtain Child steadily until it broke the clouds again.

The Wasteland lay below; dark, scarred, and quiet.

Ahead was a cluster of buildings, some crumbling while others were perfectly fossilized. They were surrounding the highlight: a sprawling, faded palace whose walls and towers were smeared with grime. Gear motifs could be seen throughout the architecture.

Hester's heart leapt and sank at the same time.

Pip had taken her to the birthplace of Engineering, which was overrun by revolutionaries.

Chapter Eight: Equality 7-2521

According to the scripts in the Museum, the Kingdom of Teign was responsible for creating the magic known as "Engineering".

The people who invented it, like most of Iysl's creators, were brilliant and mad. No one ordinary changed the world.

Queen Tamzin, the last Monarch of Teign, had hired a quartet to create a way to keep her mages alive. (Because, during this time, mages were dropping dead like starving people.) They studied nature and found a way to contain it; thus, the Great Engines were birthed.

If Hester hadn't roped herself into defeating the revolution, she would've gotten off Teign a lot of time ago and come to a historical dig site like this.

To learn that it was festering with the enemy felt like that grave robbers were holding her hostage.

The Curtain Child landed a low-lying, raised metal platform that acted like a strut, and Pip turned the power off.

He turned the keys in the control panel, took them out of the lock, and placed them in his pocket.

From the forward windows, Hester could see that people were coming towards the ship. They were colorfully ugly, and looked like they could kill you in a heartbeat.

I told people they were a serious threat. But did they believe me? No. They just dismissed them, and smeared them as "mentally ill", "entitled", and "lazy".

The gondola door slid open, and a group of them surrounded the hatchway.

"Comrade", one of them said as Pip jumped out.

The man turned and beckoned for Hester and Charles to follow suit.

"Comrades", the same person said as both slid out.

Charles just nodded, as Pip gestured for them to follow him.

The streets of the ruins were confusing, as if they were pipes crisscrossing or overlapping a gear.

No one seemed to notice the trio walking through the place. Well, except for a few.

From several places were... odd noises.

They sounded almost...

Pip seemed to notice the "vibe".

"If you're wondering", he explained, "we've decoupled sex everywhere."

And they say otherwise, Hester thought bitterly of entertainers who posed as problem-solvers.

Pip continued leading them through the winding streets, the foul palace getting bigger and bigger as they ventured deeper and deeper.

Then, at a giant building with gaping holes covered with impromptu netting, he stopped. He shoved open the door, and Hester recognized the place as an old storage complex.

On the metal floor were many beds, all lined up in rows. Normal-looking individuals were busying themselves putting sheets and covers on them. (Even the pillows.) Everything smelled musty yet clean.

"You'll stay here", Pip explained, as Charles staggered forward to a clean, white bed. He collapsed and sighed deeply. His black clothing smeared the sheets with dirt, as if he had created cold sludge.

Soon, he closed his eye and slept.

"Of course", Pip muttered to himself before gesturing for Hester to follow him once more.

______________

"All men are good and wise. It is only we; we alone who were born with a curse. For we are not like our brothers."

It was one of the many lines that had stuck with Hester when she had accidentally discovered Anthem all those years ago in the Museum Library.

Perhaps now, after years of studying the enemy, being in their territory, did she fully understand it.

There were other lines too. (Although some were connected to the plot.)

"WE ARE ONE IN ALL AND ALL IN ONE. THERE ARE NO MEN BUT ONLY THE GREAT WE, ONE, INDIVISIBLE AND FOREVER."

"A Street Sweeper! A Street Sweeper walking in upon the World Council of Scholars! It is not to be believed! It is against all the rules and all the laws!"

"You fools! You thrice-damned fools!"

"For the word 'We' must never be spoken, save by one's choice and as a second thought. This word must never be placed first within man's soul, else it becomes a monster, the root of all the evils on earth, the root of man's torture by men, and of an unspeakable lie.

"The word 'We' is as lime poured over men, which sets and hardens to stone, and crushes all beneath it, and that which is white and that which is black are lost equally in the grey of it. It is the word by which the depraved steal the virtue of the good, by which the weak steal the might of the strong, by which the fools steal the wisdom of the sages."

The last of those resonated with her, and gave her the idea that in the Revolutionary Utopia, everyone would be referred to as "we" with "they/them" pronouns.

Because the word "I" identified you, and you alone.

You were a being, separate from all the others.

It was against the Collective, and punishable by Detention.

This little niche in the Wastelands did not adopt those principles yet, as the Old World hadn't burned yet.

But, soon, in those ashes, the Phoenix of Solidarity rose. And "I" would be replaced with "We".

_______________________________

[Side Note: Yes, those quotes at the end of the chapter are from Ayn Rand's Anthem.]

Chapter Nine: Mediocre Soup

The next place Pip took Hester was the Canteen. (Otherwise known as, according to her research, "the community kitchen".)

When someone was hungry, they came here and received their daily allotted portion of food that the Cooks made.

Opening the doors, the aroma of the food surrounded them as they entered. From that, it was clear that today's "meal" was some sort of soup.

"How do you make this?" Hester inquired.

"We use whatever we find and feel like", Pip explained as he led her through what seemed like part of an renovated old cafeteria.

Some people were sitting at the metal tables, eating their rations with spoons.

Through the dying fluorescent light, Hester could see that it contained bits of meat, vegetables, and noodles.

Noodle soup was supposed to be comforting, not an energy source.

But to all revolutionaries, food was energy to be shared with the Collective. It was not to be shored by individual households. As such, all plausible in-home kitchens were gutted.

Hester and Pip walked to the mid-sized wall at the back of the room, which separated the comrades from the Cooks. In the middle of the cooking area was a giant metal vat. Fat, white clouds of steam rose from it, and the aroma was strong.

One of the servers greeted the duo, and asked if they wanted their portions. They agreed. Soon, two contrasting bowls (that might've come from a variety of sources) were filled with the soup. Spoons were placed in them as well.

Hester and Pip thanked the Cooks and found a place to eat.

"Try the broth first", Pip recommended.

Hester did so with her spoon. It tasted mid and in dire need of seasoning. There was a faint note of beef somewhere...

"Is this... beef stock?" she asked.

"Usually."

"It's... how do I say this? Watered-down."

"Well, we need to feed everyone. Even at the cost of flavor."

"How economical."

Pip chuckled. "Even if you hate this, I love it."

Hester eyed him in between bites. "Why?"

"This is what the Ruined fed me after the cities rejected me."

Hester nearly spat out her soup. She stopped herself, breathed, and swallowed her bite.

"They what?"

"You know", Pip said. "Same thing that happened to poor Charles. After the cities rejected my idea of a spell that could save countless lives, these chaps welcomed me."

He patted the Motor that was strapped to his waist. Small thin curlicues of smoke rose from the grates at its top. "Came across it by accident. Next thing you know, I'm pretty good at Engineering."

"You're an Engineer?" Hester gawked. "Working for the Glorious Revolution?"

Pip nodded.

And they said otherwise.

______________

Motors were a smaller version of the Great Engines.

They were used if an Engineer was far away from their home city and needed a power source.

But they still operated like the mechanical beasts, and needed to be fed every so often to keep the mage alive.

If it ran out of power, or the blaze went out, its owner died.

How Pip still had his running boggled Hester.

But he explained.

"The spell was to make the Motor, or a Great Engine if applying it large-scale, perpetually run on what was already burning in it. So, I didn't need to think about energy when I'm focused on something like this. A loophole, found by no one you'd expect.

Speaking of loopholes, there's another place I want to show you."

Chapter Ten: Jasper

Pip takes Hester to the Childcare Center, wherein he shows off how the Collective raises their children. As the duo tour the testing area for artificial birthing, one of the created children is born. Hester names the boy "Jasper", after her late father; Pip and the others consider the child to be another step towards "equity".

_______________________________

[I wrote the summary of this chapter, because I thought the content would be too "off" for Wattpad. (On my grouping of manuscripts, the chapter in this draft has been written.)]

Chapter Eleven: Street Sweepers

Back on Teign, Nat and Kate snoop around for history on Hester Prior and the Ruined.

Chapter Twelve: The Abolition of Everything

That night, Hester cannot sleep (after what she's seen). The Collective sleeps in the same, giant, refurbished hangar; as staying in a house is "private property". As Hester leaves the hanger, Charles wakes... and follows her. Hester wanders to the outside of the ruins, and sits on a muddy, grassy hilltop; she watches the Heavens. Soon, Charles follows and tries to explain how the Ruined saved him as a child, while teaching him their ideas. (He doesn't fully believe in them.) Hester doesn't respond (or tunes it out); she just reflects on how the Ruined have abolished everything.

Chapter Thirteen: Pomeroy

Back on Teign, Nat and Kate are close to ending the mystery of Hester Prior and the Wheeled Wraith; yet, their research has taken them into the pits of hell. Despite this, one of the many Engineer spies have reported to their leader - Stockleigh Pomeroy - about the duo. Pomeroy and his men find the teens and arrest them on charges of "treason".

Part Three: Mortal Engines

Chapter Fourteen: The Report

Hester writes up her report on the Ruined's revolutionary lifestyle as the airship designated to take her back to mainstream society, the Phoenix, is prepped.

Chapter Fifteen: Heretics

Back on Teign, Nat and Kate are held prisoner before being put on trial.

Chapter Sixteen: Whose Rude Throats

The next day, the Phoenix is ready to fly. The plan is for the Ruined to find a traction town, in which they will return Hester back to polite society. After a while of flight, the boarding is smooth (albeit some people (mages) needed to be killed). Pip tells Hester to find someone who will amiably return her to Teign before parting. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she finds him heading towards the Gut. Realizing that he's going to destroy the Great Engines, she tackles him. Because of sexual differences (in DNA, of course) and skill, Pip is in for the kill. Hester was never supposed to report; she is "a message".

Chapter Seventeen: Blood on Your Hands

Back on Teign, Nat and Kate are executed for "treason".

Chapter Eighteen: Stardust

Hester manages to use her weight and dexterity to find one of Pip's blades and stab him with it. The blow goes through his entire body, killing him. As he dies, he nearly falls into the Great Engines. Hester gets his corpse off him, and (instinctively) steals his magicked Motor, taking it with her. As she makes her way back (or somewhat), she encounters Charles; the disfigured man offers to take her to Terhune, his (former) home. Both manage to scramble through the impromptu mess towards the air-harbor, where they steal the Dawn Chorus.

Epilogue

In the streets of traction Terhune, communists protest the capitalist state. From his house, Charles Chalmers I (Charles Chalmers II's father) scoffs at them, claiming they are lazy and need discipline. Despite this, the signs of the "protestors" clearly say they're message: "We are dying. A revolution will fix this."

Originally published (version 1): 01/10/2025 (added chapter one to page); edited: 01/11/2025 (added chapter two), 01/12/2025 (added chapter three), 01/15/2025 (added chapter four), 01/23/2025 (gave title to act I ), 01/25/2025 (added (unfinished) chapter 5), 01/28/2025 (added act 2 header, summary of chapter 6, and chapter 7), 01/29/2025 (added chapter 8), 01/31/2025 (added chapters 9 (full) and 10 (summary)), 03/03/2025 (added summary for act 3  and changed title of rough version 1)

Book One: Ocean

"Book One: Ocean" is the (second) rough draft of The Darkling Plain (book 1). It gains its name from the Ocean, a Primal element.

Originally published (version 2): 03/03/2025 (created section); edited: unknown 

_______________________________

Originally published (general): 01/15/2025 (added sections for different versions)