Alexander York: Steampunk Hero

Prologue

Liverpool, England.

Not the Liverpool, we know.

The year is 1921.

 Not our 1921.

 This is Earth, but not our Earth. A parallel earth.

Orbiting around a sun, but not the sun we know.

 How do I, the chronicler of this tale know this?

Dear reader, this will sound too fantastic to be real. But my experiences are as real.

I assure you.

Just as real as if I was sitting across from you right now, recounting this to you over a cup of coffee.

In this earth's timeline, history has taken a different turn.

Most of the European powers remain, but after the Great War, their ability to project power has diminished, as have their empires. Though they hold unto to them jealously. Old families still retain their respective houses and titles. Imperial powers still remain as well as their royal bloodlines with their influences still intact, though they seem to squabble over the same tired things: power, property, and possessions. Vying for territories, resources, and position.

The same old colonial game.

The North American continent is fractured. North and South, Republic and Confederacy. Too weak to manifest their destinies anymore, they hide behind their respective lines, eye each other with distrust and pride. The west is still unclaimed. Except for a few outposts the territory remains in native hands.

South America, Africa, and the Orient are still shrouded in mystery,

 Half of the earth is still "unexplored", and many discoveries still waiting to be made.

Most commerce and travel is made by airship and steam power since petroleum, as an energy source dried up quicker than anyone expected after years of conflict. Tough great strides have been made in plasma propulsion ( check out https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WC92SStn7vY if your curious) thanks so some brilliant minds and necessity.

Essentially, "civilization" is rebuilding and recalibrating itself.

This is the state of this world, under this sun.

 It is during this time that young Alexander York found himself, with few prospects and promise. Having been kicked out of the Royal Airship Academy and far away from family and with few friends.

Well maybe being kicked out is too strong of a word.

More like he was asked to resign his ensign commission…and never return. In later conversations with Alexander, I would ask him of the nature of his “sacking”. He never quite got to the specifics, though he did bring up academic reasons, but after getting to know him, anything is possible. He has a knack for finding trouble and a talent for getting out of it just as spectacularly.

 He did recount one thing. After the academy's gates closed behind him, with only the clothes on his back and his effect slung over his shoulder, he relied on the one thing he was good at: Thinking quickly on his feet. 

There he stood, outside the gate. Standing about 6 foot tall, athletic of build. His brown hair, that always seemed to get in his face, always seemed to be in a state of disarray. He was quick to grin and hard to anger. Though I have been witness to his fury when roused and, fortunately, I rarely saw it.

He was dressed in his flight coat, which he still wear to this day. The faded lines on it were where the academy embroidery and patches had been sewn on and ripped away from following his expulsion. I don't know why he still has the damn thing.

And this is where our story begins.

With a few of the Queen's shillings in his pocket been headed off to what he thought was the best option at the time: 

A pub.

And that is where he met a mysterious woman and his life's direction took a turn.

 The Empress of Dreams.

 That is when our timelines came together in the most unexpected way.