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Chapter 17

The bird sketch was coming along. One at a time with different measurements, I traced the different components. The individual feathers on the wings did require some metal work and shaping of those equivalent to a knife. I basically needed to fashion blades, of all shapes and sizes, to put together, which sounded like a deadly combo. I considered changing the purpose of the bird and straight up build daggers and the metal stand.

At some point, Cynthia plopped down opposite of me when I arranged the metal scraps. One issue that I figured out later was that I had no welding skills. Nada. I was about to scrap everything when Cynthia noticed my irritation. 

"You could always learn new skills. I'm sure somebody would be willing to teach you." 
She had an encouraging smile and pushed for this project to continue. Well, I hoped I didn't mess up this project.

I gathered up the material in my arms and hobbled awkwardly, stopping once in a while to rebalance the metal in my arms. Cynthia trailed behind me. Despite her slinged arm, she carried some pieces without much trouble. The challenge of opening doors was by far the hardest. Fortunately it was not a lonesome battle as Cynthia shifted the materials in her arms to mine and operated the doors for me. We entered the clear walled hallway. 

“Damn, how was this place built? Great yet impractical.” marvelled Cynthia.

I fell into step behind her as she slowly surveyed the outside through the transparent walls. The winds outside still raged on, leaving no stone particle unturned. The constant patter of sand masses continued at the same intensity. Cynthia snapped out of her amazement at the sight of my unstable stance behind a stack of metal sheets. She hurried to the door at the end and pulled. 

The heavy door slowly opened. I slipped in quickly so she didn't strain herself. The door slammed shut behind us. I hurried over to a relatively empty bench and dumped all the stuff down. Jongho popped his head around from behind a unique contraption. Upon spotting the metal sheets next to Cynthia and I, he sauntered over to inspect the material. 

"Recycled?" 
I nodded. 
"What do you plan to make?" 
I took my sketch out from inside my notebook and passed it over. Jongho delicately opened the folded paper and spread it onto a flat surface. He stood there thoughtfully, eyes moving to and fro to read over my notes around the sketch. His lips pouted in concentration and for a moment, I wanted to poke his cheek. 

"Pretty ambitious, especially when you haven't worked with metal before." He turned to me. "So I'm guessing you need help?" 

I tapped my index fingers together twice and nodded at him. 

"Yeosang would teach you anything if you asked but to be honest," Jongho suddenly dropped into a whisper, "keeping it between the two of us, I'm better at metalwork." 

Jongho smiled widely and made a 'shh' gesture. I hath obtained blackmail material. At the same time, Yeosang entered, waving at us and for a second, I was tempted to spill the beans. The idea faded when he immediately dove into his multi-page melting pot of mathematical madness. 

"You ready to start?" 
Jongho cracked his knuckles and brought over all the metal sheets with ease to another workbench, this time closer to a machine used for cutting. 

I have watched the two engineers work with the machine before and picked up a few tricks. In the middle of an impending lecture personally given by Jongho, I popped on some ear mufflers and safety glasses. I propped the metal sheet onto the frame of the bench. I turned on the metal rotor and slowly drove it down.

Jongho stood close to watch me work. The lines were followed through accurately and I managed to finish cutting up the first sheet. I turned off the machine and stood back to admire my first cut up scraps of metal. Honestly my posture of all looked the worst, standing up, hunching over just to cut pieces of metal into tinier pieces. 

I noticed Jongho had left to resume his own things, having heard the sparse notes that occasionally drifted over. Cynthia, metres behind, flashed a thumbs up. She was occupied by the sketch in front, her eyes showing great interest and fascination. I turned back to the next metal sheet, inspecting the lines and assessing whether or not it would be a clean cut though all pieces would need to be sharpened and sanded down. I repeated the process of cutting through.

By the time my neck and back began to ache, I had most of the pieces separated. The tips of my hands darkened from the residue. My hands were splotchy red due to the slight burns from sparks. The smaller pieces were chucked into sorting buckets for later, each piece resonating a high pitched clang. Cynthia looked up upon the repeated noises, walking up to my strange-looking figure.

"Sooner or later you're going to need a back brace." Cynthia joked and a smile ghosted my lips. I lifted the buckets and placed them onto the work bench. Cynthia's eyes followed the buckets to my hands.

"How'd you get those?" She pointed at my hands, specifically at the burns. 
I shrugged, not bothered by it just yet. The dull ache of the patchy areas did start to feel more like ants crawling and biting all over.

"No, no we are treating these burns." Cynthia gripped my wrist and pulled me towards her. I stumbled into her, like the rag doll I was, using my free hand to stabilise myself on her shoulder.

"Careful." 
I felt wronged at the warning. I must've not masked my expression because I heard her chuckle. In the close proximity, I could feel the deep vibrations and the light air brought about by the chuckle that ever-so-slightly fluttered my hair. I stepped away, conscious of the little space between us. 

"Correction, it was my bad." A smile ghosted her lips which discerned the apology as playful rather than genuine. 

We left the warehouse to follow through with treating the minor burns. The medical room was empty, not that it really mattered. I knew the place like the back of my hand. There weren't any specific ointments for burns so I settled on cooling the area first. A blister was already forming at the sight.

We sat side by side on the bed. I caught Cynthia occasionally wincing every time I swiped over the affected region. 
"You need to be more gentle." She chided. 

Unfortunately for her, I was not gentle with myself and couldn't care less. I slapped on some aloe vera, though the gel was already five years old. She yelped from the sound as if she was slapped. She took hold of my hand and brought it closer to her.

Her eyes scanned the blotchy red skin. The aloe vera gel still stood upright on top of my hand. The fingers grasping my hands were burning iciness. With two fingers, she delicately massaged the gel in, leaving a cooling sensation behind. It was uncertain if it was her fingertips or the expired aloe vera. Her eyes didn't leave my hand, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration, until I gently tugged it away from her hold. 

“That wasn’t so hard.”
I glanced to the side, unbothered with myself. I heaved myself up from the bed and returned the five year old aloe vera gel. I glanced back at Cynthia who remained unmoving on the bed.

“Take a break. You were at it for hours.” I returned to her side, letting my legs swing back and forth in the air. Silence descended between the two of us. 

Voices drifted into the room from outside. They were unfamiliar and I guessed it was the other group. I felt Cynthia tense a little next to me. I turned to her in silent question. She sensed my gaze and let out a sigh.

Oh boy, it was the sigh of an impending, long overdue rant. 

“The situation outside is not looking too great. It’s obvious some organisations are turning a blind eye to the increasing attacks. The alliance is falling apart. I have to be honest, the main group is considering the offer to break away from the alliance just to save their asses.” 

I showed no reaction, malfunctioning in how to respond. I haven’t stepped a foot out of the base other than when I moved with the whole group. 

“I want to cherish these moments that seem to slow down. Ignorance is bliss but I can't ignore the growing pit in my stomach. If we ever find each other on opposite sides…”

Cynthia took my hands in hers. She gripped them tighter when I flinched at the sudden action, iciness seeping into my bones. 

“I just hope you don’t lose your light.” 
The sound of clattering, hushed murmuring and rustling alerted me. I sat straighter and stared out the door. The cold grip on my hands shifted to my wrists, locking them together. I turned back to Cynthia wide-eyed. Her sorrowful expression confirmed the situation.