The Garden Within the Wasteland

Inheritance from the Living

The sun had travelled with them, a slow march onto the west, the weight of the pervious situation had remained, a thing of many limbs and mouths that memory was, it pulsated and wriggled in each of their minds, each mouth of it spun a different version of the tale as the memory grew and changed in size its skin growing and shrinking with each sentence exchanged between the two, the life line of the dialogue was a single uttered dream of brush.

"I want to be as strong as that thing"

The machine jumped between Ereo more somber comments

"Which thing, the child or the beast?"

Ereo teased with a slight curve in his speech.

"The beast was mighty, but strength is a delicate beautiful thing, it's a way to speak without words."

Brush mused with a slight hum; he shined as much as his automaton husk would allow him

"It seems you've got strength gifted since your creation, yet you lust for more?"

Ereo responded with a chuckle, his eyes studying the golden sparks in between the sand, his hands placed on his back

Brush's steps faltered for a second, but he kept the struggle to sync his steps with Ereo, he appeared to look down, studying his own hands like they were just painted on him, he remained silent for a second.

"Its not the same strength I want"

Brush replied in a quite tone tainted with an emotion not fully hatched

"Something about you troubles me, how are you functional? Any machine that wanders outside of the cradle of the Enkidu collapses and is transmuted into our swords and bullets"

Ereo mused as his eyes returned to the forever stretching horizon

"I...I don't know, someone guided me to that building, told me to..."

Brush hesitated, his voice lacking the regular gusts of confidence that infected his speech patterns

"Just sit tight, that's what he told me"

Ereo let out a hum of malcontent, which caused brush to falter a step more as he asked

"What brought you to that building then?"

Ereo halted fully in his steps, his head facing the sky, before a genuine chuckle left him

"Someone guided me to it, I don't know why he did it"

Brush shared in his chuckle, as they kept on their walk, a fragile silence fell over them, they kept their march, neither willing to show any sign of exhaustion as they stepped on a single predetermined path.

And not till the sun began to be dragged by its rays into the abyss over the horizon, over a grand shadow in the horizon, had they reached their destination. A quaint collection of tents and huts appeared within a minutes' walk before them

"So, this place we're going, is it your home?"

Brush braved after a moment of silence

"it is a home"

Responded Ereo, his form betrayed his controlling voice, his shoulders tensed as his steps hastened.

Brush didn't respond, he just lowered his hands letting them idle to his side

The camp was quaint and shabby, a mere collection of a few buildings composed of stone and metal plates and tendons that nearly resembled Brush's body, only inferior. The floor was beaten by the numerous footsteps yet no clear path appeared before them, in fact barely anything appeared before them, the presences, the smell, and the chatter of people had shined through the silence between them, each evidence only existed in fragments through whatever openings each house had.