Steel Melody

Part 12:

He wandered deep into the forest, until the noises of the celebrations faded behind him. Sweat rolled down his face, which he wiped against his coat. Still there were no tears, he wept. He stopped and leant against a tree, feeling the rough bark in his hand. It was still out there in the night, like nothing moved, like it was once the husk of something alive. It may have very well be dead and barren, but Heartrik would rather it be that and quiet, than loud and filled with life. The barren cold outside was more favourable to the lively campfire heat. It seemed he was going to be sick in that same forest, twice in the same week. The bog chewed at his ankles, sucking him downwards. Not an animal barked a word. Not even Lertz, who sat high upon a branch. He was sharpening his sword in the icy breeze, wrapped in his coat and burning his head into his cape. He looked cold and lonely and sad, but Heartrik would trade places with him in a heartbeat. Sparks glittered in the air like small falling stars before landing and dying in the mud.

As they sparked it was revealed Lertz was grinding the blade against his fingers, and Heartrik saw that the fingers on Lertz' left hand were entirely steel prosthetics down to the knuckles, even his thumb. They were sleek, well made hyper-simulant scaffold models, the kind that were modelled to replicate what the flesh had once been shaped like, only they were dark and grey iron. Ash-Wex made, most prosthetics were, but these were expensive. Lertz's eyes flicked to Heartrik, and quickly back. He was a black shape, sitting against the moon upon a branch. Bump, bump Heartriks chest thumped, likely in the fear felt when crossing something one shouldn't. As quickly as it had sprouted his anger at the crowd had disappeared, and he was welcomed back by nature. With nothing else to say he simply asked "Drank anything tonight?"

Lertz's eyes wandered down to him. Steam puffed through his shouldered cape like a foundry as he sighed.

Another minute and Heartrik decided that wouldn't be his only words to Lertz.

"You're the man of the occasion. I thought you'd be celebrating." he mumbled unclearly.

Lertz's eye peered back at him.

"And you're Heartrik... And you're drunk." he said, words chilled ice cold.

"How'd you know?" Heartrik asked.

"You haven't said a word to me until now, only drunkenness instils that kind of courage." Lertz reapplied.

Maybe the alcohol still gave Heartrik some courage. "Why are you out here?" Heartrik asked. He could only ask simple questions.

Lertz huffed "The stink of alcohol. It smells of something rotten. Why are you out here?"

Heartrik shifted. "I like the quiet."

"Hmm, then you'd best go somewhere else. The sword is dull after today, still needs to be sharpened." Lertz advised as the grinding sound resumed. Compared to the craftsmanship of a regular blade, Lertz's sword looked more like a weapon hastily forged in a matter of minutes. The steel looked like it would shatter in a single swipe. The smith judas would spit at the shodding craftsmanship.

Heartrik's body turned to leave before he even ordered it to. It was no longer his mind, but if that was the case then he decided Lertz no longer unnerved him. He turned back to Lertz, his heart still thumping heavily, but slowly resting. The thought of Lertz no longer caused his breath to become dry, or his mind to waver.

"Who are you then?" he asked.

Lertz chuckled at Heartrik's childlike fascination. "I'm Lertz, most call me the Blackwind. Some Slayer, Thousand man killer, Cancer of the South." he answered simply. Heartrik hung about however. Lertz sighed. "I'm nobody, your father knows that. I came here for the money, did my part, and now I leave. That's it." he said.