The story of Willif Tekiel

[The Stormfather He/Him]

This is a story with characters I've been toying with for a while, and I finally decided what the story would be be. It's about 9 pages, both parts.

part 1 : 

Spoiler

It was a somber day, when that thunderclap sounded in Elendel. The bomb, detonated, exploded. 

A deafening noise sounded across the Basin, even some in the northern malwish state hearing the explosion.

The biggest damn explosion a person ever did make.

Willif Tekiel, resident fourteenth-in line to the Tekiel name, gunsmith, working in the eight octant, rose to the sound, his eyes dreary from a long night, drawing schematics. Nouxil, his friend and fellow gunsmith, had been explaining a new type of rifle, one that worked like a rotary gun, that you could carry. The schematics had been rough and not well formed, although the plan was coming together well.

Willif’s house was fairly empty, the main workshop, shelves and smithing room all merged into one giant workhouse, which was the only thing in his house, except for a small bedroom, bathroom, and diminutive kitchen.

“What in the hell was that?” Willif murmured to himself, half asleep. He walked into his workshop, holstering his pistol, Spitfire, at his side.

Spitfire was a long barreled pistol, made for long range and accurate shooting, a new design of bullets chambered in the pistol. The bullets were extra long, a huge charge of gunpowder on a small bullet, made for extra range.

His other pistols lay strewn on one of the shelves, the far side of the room with a casting station and fire burner.

 

There was commotion on the streets, people shouting and trying to see something.

 

“What is it?” Willif shouted, exiting his house. The people stepped away from him, frightened of the pistol at his hip.

“There’s a flood coming!” Someone shouted.

“What?” Willif said in shock, running towards the Hammondar bay.

 

Water rushed across the street, people grabbing onto ropes that had been tied, forming chains.

 

“Help! Help!” The cry came from an older gentleman, being pushed down the street by a huge wave of water.

“Hold on to your coat! The zipper is metal!” Willif shouted, downing a vial.

He ‘grabbed’ onto two lampposts behind him, anchoring himself, then pulled on the zipper of the man’s coat.

 

He lurched through the air. Tumbling, although Willif grabbed him.

“What happened?” Willif demanded.

“I don’t know! There was a loud noise, and I could see an explosion out on the water. I.. I think someone detonated the bomb that was coming.”

“There was a bomb coming?” Willif asked.

“It was the scoundrels from Bilming! They sent a ship full of explosives! Or, that’s what the governor said at his speech.” Someone said from behind Willif.

“No, I heard it was the southerners!” Another voice said. “They wanted to destroy us!”

An argument broke out around Willif, a tumult of noise slamming into his ears.

“Stop!” Willif was surprised the voice was his own. “We should wait. We can wait until Waxillium Ladrian gives his report.” WIllif said, remembering that the lawman had been investigating in Bilming.

 

The water spread out, coming up to peoples ankles, but there was no more big waves. It slowly trickled down drains and down hills, flowing back towards the bay.

 

Willif pulled on lampposts slowly moving towards the bay. The skyscapers eventually broke into smaller homes, and a few taller buildings. He walked from there, not finding anything to pull on. 

 

The wreckage from the tsunami astounded him. Homes were broken, trees overturned, and an entire ten-story building had fallen, crushing a small park.

 

“Hello! Is anybody there!” Someone cried out, a tremor in their voice.

“Where are you?” Willif shouted, searching for hte source of the noise.

“Under a rusting tree!” The person called back, a faint terris accent masked by years probably spent in the core of Elendel.

Willif pinpointed a fallen tree, walking towards it and loking under. He spotted a man, maybe thirty years of age, with a faint grayness to his skin. Kolloss-blooded and terris. Interesting. WIlif thought, then shook his head, bringing himself back to reality.

“Are you okay?” Willif asked. “Where are you injured?”

Willf scanned under the tree, seeing a dip in the ground that was filled with water, the liquid trickling in from cracks in the dirt. 

“I- A branch got my shoulder bad, but I should be okay, if I can get out. The main problem is that I’m rusting stuck!” He said, and Willif could see blood staining his shoulder.

“Uh…” Willif paused in thought. Water was filling the dip in the ground. If he didn’t act fast, the man would drown.

“I’ll see what I can do, but no one else is around here!” Willif said, on the verge of panic. “I’m a lurcher. Is there any metal under there that I could pull on to maybe move the tree?” Willif asked, calming slightly.

“My coins are scattered around here.” The man responded. Willif burned iron, identifying the lines.

“Hello!” WIllif shouted. “We need help here!” No one answered.

 “Okay. I can figure this out.” Willf muttered to himself.

 

The tree was position with it’s side facing the fallen building. Maybe..

 

“I can see an anchor on the building over there.” Willif reported, slowly lifting into the air as he pulled.

“I might not be able to mve the tree very much, so you are going to have to really go for it when I say so.”

“Okay.” The man was crying, he could tell.

“Now!” Willif pulled on two lines, a metal beam of the fallen buildin,g lodged in concrete, and a coin, lodged in the crook of the tree.

It budge slightly, Willif straining, flaring iron.

“Come on!” he shouted, feeling as if, at any moment, his arms would break. The tree lifted another inch.

The man under the tree grasped at the ground, dragging himself out from under the slightly lifted tree.

“I can’t hold this for long! It’s ripping me apart!” Willif shouted, urging on the terrisman.

 

 

The man under the tree grabbed a branch, pulling again, legs barely working. He was almost out. He could feel cold air. He pushed again, rolling out from under the tree as it fell back down with a crash.

 

 

“Thank you. Really.” He said, gasping for air.

Anytime.” Willif responded, helping the man to his feet.

“We’d better get you to a doctor. Like, now.” he said, helping the man walk. “Hold on to me, tight. We’re getting there the fun way.”

 

 

Three hours later exhausted, Willif stepped back into his house, going over to the sink to wash the man’s blood off his hands.

 

 

There was a knock at his door, followed by a voice. “Willif Tekiel?” The voice said.

“Who is it?” Willif asked, walking towards the door.

“Fendrel.”

“Do I know you?” Willif asked, opening the door.

“No.” The woman was tall, oddly tall. She grinned, a strange voice, with a drawn out a. “You mentionned once around a month ago a request for a pathian earring?”

“I did…” Willif said. “How do you know that?”

“I’m here to deliver the earring.” She said, handing him the piece of metal, seeming like a bent nail.

“If you would excuse me, I don’t have much time. I need to get going to a… weird place.”

“You’re a Kandra, aren’t you.” Willif said dryly, as the woman turned blue. 

“Melaan.” She bowed, then walked away, ignoring gawking pedestrians.

“What the-”

 

 

“I guess I’m supposed to meditate now, with this earring.” Willif said to himself, or, to Harmony, he supposed.

 

 

“I’m not sure what to say. You understand the confusion down here right? A bomb went off, Ladrian says it was people from another planet. This is… a rough time for the basin.”

“I know.”The voice sounded beside him, a nice, calm terris voice, lilting.

“AH!” Willif said in shock, which led to a small chuckle. “Wait. Did I just do that in front of God?” he asked.

“Yes. You see, I am in need of some help.” God said, shockingly continuing a conversation, to the confusion of Willif. “I am in need… Of a sword.”

“What?” Willif asked.

“Someone to exert my will. It used to be Mister Ladrian, but.. He cannot keep doing this. It… takes its toll, helping me. You see, the organization that Waxillium destroyed, is not as destroyed as you might think. It is almost defunct, but a small group seems to be gathering Harmonium. They are stationed in Elendel, or they seem to be, as I see small glimpses of them entering and leaving a gas station in the second Octant.”

“So you want me to kill people?”

“Preferably, no. But these people have access to Harmonium… It’s bad. Very bad. They could do something to it… and make a very dangerous weapon. Gather the constables to help you. I can only speak to people with earrings, so I can’t get them. You need to do it, and probably go with them. Having a lurcher could be very helpful for a fight.”

 

 

TWO HOURS LATER

 

 

“Hello?” Willif Tekiel knocked on the door, sound ringing out in the quiet streets. Npt many people wanted to walk by the police station, it seemed.

“Who is it?” A gruff, deep voice sounded from inside. 

“Willif Tekiel, the gunsmith!” He shouted, door muffling his voice.

The door swung open, creaking. Inside stood a tall man, short red hair topping a slightly gray skin. Kolloss blooded. Willif thought to himself as he stepped in the door.

“What do you need?” The Kolloss-blooded said, sounding bored. He had most likely spent the day searching the ruins of the tsunami for people, and was tired.

“Harmony has spoken to me.” Willif began, raising a hand as the constable started to speak. “He told me of a location. A gas station in the second Octant, where he believes members of the organization that Ladrian tried to destroy are hiding. He says they are gathering Harmonium. I don’t know what they can do with it, but if Harmony tells me to do something, I will do it.” Willif said.

The Constable leaned in, interested. “ We’ll investigate the place. Second Octant, You said?”

Willif nodded. “Harmony wanted me to come with you. I’m a lurcher, so I might be able to help.”

“I won’t turn down a metalborn willing to fight, and you must know your way around a pistol, being a gunsmith.” Willif nodded again. “Welcome aboard, Willif Tekiel. Name’s Tev.”

“Well met, Tev.” Willif said. 

“ I should have some time tomorrow. I’ll see who’s available and come get you before we go.” Tev said, grunting.

Willif walked towards the door.

“One more thing, mister Tekiel.” Tev paused. “You are walking in dangerous territory here. This will probably burst into a gunfight. You are sure you’re willing to come with us?” Tev asked. 

“Yes. I will.” WIllif said, voice confident. “ And I can give some of you constables new pistols while I’m at it.”

 

part 2 : 

Spoiler

 Willif stood up, groggy, waking. It was early in the morning, after the day of trekking and jumping around Elendel he had been tired.

“Where did I leave Spitfire?” he asked himself, spotting the pistol on a shelf on the far side of his workshop. He crossed the room, entering his kitchen and finding very little food.

“Ugh. Why do I never remember to get food?” He muttered, putting on a coat and holstering his pistol. He racked his brain, trying to remember a good breakfast place.

Maybe Evlat still has that place with all the fish and crab food. Evlat had been friends with Willif for a long time, although their meetings were infrequent.

He stepped out into the street, deciding to walk to the restaurant, a chill in the air. He was happy he had remembered to get his coat as he walked, looking around at the tall buildings in the inner city. 

 

Eventually he reached Evlat’s restaurant, a orange sign atop a two story building, saying ‘Evlat has seafood for every meal!’ He read the sign, stepping through the door. There was a few people in the restaurant, four or five tables filled. 

“Willif!” Evlat said from the counter, door to the kitchen swinging behind him.

“Hi.” Willif said.

“Find a table, I’ll get to you in a moment!” Evlat’s odd accent washed over Willif. He couldn’t place whether it was Terris or not, a strange blend, talking as if he had to think about it as if he didn’t know the language well.

Willif sat at a table, looking at the menu. Crab pancakes? He read the one new breakfast item. May as well.

“Crab pancakes.” Willif said as Evlat walked over, who scribbled down in a notepad.

“How have you been? Hopefully your house didn’t get hit by the water…” He trailed off.

“No, it was fine. I haven’t done much, although Nouxil visited a few days ago.” Willif said.

“I’ll get your food ready.” Evlat said, walking back into the kitchen.

 

A few hours later, full with odd and carb filled food, Willif Tekiel stepped back into his house, flicking on the light.

He walked into his workshop, moving to the shelf on his right.

“Huh. Maybe Nouxil was right..” He whispered, regarding the schematics in awe. They were made to be a gun that used the power of the blast to lock in the next bullet to fire it immediately, although what powered the hammer forwards was a question they had both asked.

“Maybe an electric battery…” Willif said, marking a few notes on one of the pages. A battery could repeatedly slam down the hammer, firing one shot after another.

Willif put the pages into an envelope, marking it and leaving it on his table when a knock sounded at the door.

“Willif Tekiel? You mentioned equipping our team with new weapons, so we came here a little bit earlier than planned.” Willif recognized Tev’s voice.

“We? Would you bring?” Willif asked, opening the door. There was four constables outside. Tev stood at the front of them.

“This is Emyl.” Tev pointed to a tall terrisman wearing bracers of some kind, although Willif couldn’t pinpoint which metal it was. “He’s a steelrunner.”

“We also have Forene,” Tev pointed to a short, muscular woman with a large shotgun on her back.

“And Welden.” Tev finished pointing to a lanky man with black hair cropped short. “He’s a Pewterarm.”

“Well, come in. You still using the Immerlings I designed?” Willif asked. Most constables had been outfitted with his immerlings, a creation of his from many years back.

“Yes, they are good weapons but…” Tev said.

“They’re awful. Nearly ten years old.” WIllif said. “Now, what kind of gun do you want? Long range? Accurate? Powerful?” Willif asked, pulling a box with a dozen or so pistols in holsters.

“Ummmm….” Welden said. “I want something accurate. You hit someone, they’ll be in too much pain to shoot back if they’re alive.” He said, peeking at the box.

“Alright. Try this.” Willif handed him a pistol, buring iron. He pulled on a lever and a target on the far wall popped down, circles with bullet hole torn slightly.

“I made it with only five shots, with large bullets. The front part that pops off in the explosion is the same size as normal, but I put a huge charge of powder in the back for extra range.” Willif explained.

“I’m gonna’ be honest, most of that went over my head.” Welden said. “What caliber are the bullets?” He asked.

“No regular bullets you’d find, although 0.17 would work, but…” Willif rummaged through a box. “Here.” He handed Welden a large box of bullets, around fifty inside. He had hired a few workers to help him cast bullets for a few hours, leaving him with a large crate.

“Thanks!” Welden was smiling. Was that a tear in his eye?

“Tev, what do you want?” Willif asked, laying out a few pistols on his desk. 

“I dunno’. If Welden’s gonna’ be sharpshootin’ I’d probably want something… with power.”

Willif lifted a pistol. “Here. It has eight shots, and you should be able to hold it in one hand fine, considering…” Willif trailed off, gesturing towards his muscular arms.

“It can fire fast, very fast. If you begin slamming the trigger it should be able to fire all eight in maybe two seconds.”

Tev whistled. “Damn.”

“Forene?” Willif asked.

She hefted her shotgun. “I’m good.”

“Emyl?” Willif asked, turning towards the final constable.

“Do you make rifles?” Emyl asked after a moment consideration.

“No, never figured out how to work the wood. I might have something for you though.”

Willif Tekiel walked to the back room, opening a drawer. Inside was a long pistol. The barrel stretched forwards and made the bullet spin like a rifle, and there was a second handle on the end, imitating a rifle but staying fairly small.

“We’re ready, right?” Willif said, handing each of them a small box of bullets.

“How much for all of this?” Te asked, pulling out his wallet.

“I wouldn’t say no to some money, but don’t bother with too much. You’re doing this at my request.” Willif said, shrugging.

Tev set down a few hundred notes on Willif’s desk, waving to them, leading them out into a black car, not marked with the constable mark.

“What’s the plan?” Willif asked once they were seated in the car. Welden was driving, the other four in chairs tha faced one another.

“It’s a gas station, so we may as well pick up some gas.” Tev said. “Welden’ll get out, look around, spot entrances and exits. Then, Willif and Emyl will cut off any other exits, doors and windows, and me and Forene will pop out of the car, and walk towards the building. I’m assuming at that point they will show themselves, and they we can start shooting. Do not shoot to kill. Arrest. If we can surround them, they might surrender. Willif, be careful. We’ve deputized you but… still.”

“I know. I had an idea. My aim isn’t the best, so I may as well find cover to pull aside their bullets. If we can find me a hiding place, I can draw their fire towards me for you to take them down, or I can do the obvious and pull on their guns, although they might have aluminum.” Willif said.

“Good idea.” Tev said.

“I have enough speed stored up to rush forwards and punch them a few times.” Emyl said.

Slowly, the car pulled up to the gas station. Willif took account of the fact that no other cars were there, which was good. No civilian casualties.     

“Welden, you’re up.” Tev said.

Welden stepped out of the car, walking over to a gas pump and bringing it over to the car. 

“You payin’ fer’ that?” A roughs accent sounded behind him, three workers of the gas station doing menial work, carrying boxes into the building.

“The boxes, they have very faint lines. I’ve only seen that from harmonium.” Willif said.

“It’s them. If they have that  much Ettmetal, it must be them.” Tev said.

“Willif and Emyl!” Welden’s hissed whisper ripped Willif from his thoughts.

“What?” Emyl asked.

“Back entrance, windows on the right side.” Welden reported. The two stepped out of the car. 

The gaze of one of the workers followed them as they walked out of the car, stepping inconspicuously to watch the windows and back door. Willif went for the door, Emyl for the windows.

Willif saw Tev and Forene step out of the car.

“Could we take a look inside?We’re thinking of starting our own gas station. Don’t worry, nowhere near here, out in Rashekin with the family.” Tev said. Willif noticed his new pistol peeking out slightly in Tev’s long coat.

“No. We have private documents inside.” The worker said, and Willif saw him reach behind his back, pulling something from a fold in his own coat.

“Rusts.” Willif cursed, burning iron and pulling on the gun as the worker raised it. 

“First Octant constibulary, you’re under arrest!” Tev said, grabbing the worker’s arm and throwing him in a pair of handcuffs.

“Back! Back!” Another worker cried out, retreating into the gas station. There was a single gunshot fired, which Willif yanked off course. 

Suddenly, the back door swung open.

“Come on, let’s go!” One worker stepped out of the door.

Willif pulled on the metal frame of the door, sailing through the air to kick the worker in the chest. He stumbled backwards, and Willif buried a fist in his gut.

There was a gunshot from inside, and a bullet sailed past willif’s head. He ducked away.

Two more gunshots followed as the three workers inside gathered their wits.

“Tev! They’re pinned in!” Willif shouted over to the Kolloss-blooded on the other side of the building. Willif burned iron, yanking on two guns, but the last was made of aluminum, it seemed to his metal burning eyes. He stepped away, crouching beside the door with Spitfire’s barrel wavering in front of his vision. He heard a few gunshots from the other side of the building.

Willif Tekiel suddenly lurched, as if thrown. His vest was being pushed, he realized, and quickly tore off the vest, Spitfire flying away as well.

“Coinshot!” Emyl shouted. He heard a few gunshots from Emyl’s direction, followed by a grunt.

“Anyone hit?” Tev’s shout sounded.

“No!” Willif said. Followed by a ‘no’ from the others.

Willif lifted the obsidian dagger in his boot, burning iron again, looking through the door with his burned iron.

The workers now wore no metal, the pistols Willif had pulled lying on the street away from him. 

“One throw.” He whispered. He pulled on a lamppost on the far side of the station, flying past the door. His dagger sailed out of his hands, striking one of the workers, hopefully the coinshot, between the ribs. Two gunshots followed, missing Willif slightly. He snatched one of the fallen pistols, emptying the chamber as he dropped to his knees, a bullet flying over his head. One bullet struck a worker, and no pushes came on the pistol. It was unfamiliar in his hands, so he pulled on Spitfire, catching the pistol from the air. He ducked aside as a few bullets were fired from the worker with the aluminum gun.

“Coinshot down!” Willif announced. There were a few grunts from inside the gas station, and a worker fell out of the station, nose bleeding. Willif pointed his gun at the door, although only Tev stepped out. 

“We got em.’” Tev said. He gestured inside, and Willif peeked in. There was one worker dead on the floor, the one he had hit with his dagger and bullet, and the others were tied up, one unconscious from a wound on his head.

“Good.” Willif said, walking into the gas station. There was one single huge crate of Harmonium, stored in oil. There was also a sliver of a red tinged metal. 

“Trellium.” God said, Willif realizing he had his earring in.

“What do we do with it?” Willif asked.

“Don’t worry. The Kandra will deal with this.” Sazed said. “I’ll send a few of our fighters to hide it, and guard it, and maybe I’ll find a few of the more reliable humans to help. But you’ve done your part.” 

“God says some Kandra will handle the metals.” Willif said.

“God told you?” Tev nearly choked.

“Yes. I think our Immortals have arrived.” Willif pointed to a group of four people, lead by a man dressed in a sharp black suit that screamed ‘I would fact check my jokes, but I don’t make them’. 

“Hello, Tekiel.” The lead Kandra said, face turnign translucent. The three others followed, proving their Kandra roots.

“We’ll take this off your hands.” he said.

“Now, why would Harmony not get all of you to do this? You clearly can fight! You could just eat one of them and disguise yourselves!”

“You see……….” VenDell began. “Harmony saw you, and needed you to have this experience. The fact is… you will be key to the creation of a grand weapon. We needed to know whihc side you were on.” VenDell handed Willif a paper. A schematic. It was Nouxil’s design, but perfected. It would fire until the cartridge ran out of bullets.

“Only you have the precise skill to make this. Only you of the few gunsmiths.”

 

“You are the only one who can figure out how to make the weapon. The weapon to save the world, in the last moments.”

 

 

 

 

 

Edited November 29, 2023 by The Stormfather