Bodanen: Cobalt War

Chapter 2: New Neighbors

Siegfried patrolled late into the night after leaving the cottage. However, his mind wasn't in his patrol; he couldn't figure out why he reacted to the Boss like he did. He had seen the Boss fight before, as well as covered in blood from hunting, but he still lost his composure this time. "What was that all about? Why did I lose it like that? ...Hrmm..." By the time Siegfried finished patrolling, the bell had rung out eleven at night. Siegfried made for home with a heavy sigh, unsure how to face the Boss when he saw him again. Siegfried stopped at town hall and gave his town watch polearm and badge to the next person scheduled for patrol; it seemed Edward Goffe's turn for the night. Once he reached the cottage, he stopped at the door, unsure as to how to proceed. Steeling himself, Siegfried slowly opened the door to find the house silent. Leaving his sword and shoes at the door, he crept through the kitchen to his room. He found a covered bowl with cold bear stew left for him in the kitchen with a note.

"To the idiot boy, here's some cold dinner for ya; ya better be grateful I'm leavin' anythin' out fer ya at all. We'll talk about what happened this afternoon tomorrow; till then, eat then get some rest. Ya fool. From, Boss."

"Heh. He writes better than he talks...same as always...I really don't know why I freaked out; that old man is still the same as ever...he'll outlive us all." Siegfried put the note down with a weak smile and quickly downed the stew before heading to his room to rest. As he passed the Boss' closed door, the deafening snoring that the Boss produced echoed down the hall, lifting Siegfried's spirits quite a bit. Once in his room, Siegfried didn't even bother to close the door; he simply fell onto his bed and was asleep before his body had settled from his drop.

#

Siegfried began to stir with the ringing of the town's bell, signalling eight in the morning. Groggy, he forced himself out of bed and into the shower; once bathed, awake, and ready for the day, he headed for the living room only to find the house empty. "Where's that senile old man? He's the one who wanted to talk about yesterday." Opening the front door, he looked over at the field and at the town for any sign of the Boss. He found the old man rocking peacefully in his rocking chair, smoking a pipe, and watching the people passing the highway down below. With a heavy sigh, Siegfried began to move to the Boss' side, though his feet seemed heavier than they should have been.

"About time ya woke up, boy. As always, good work with da patrolin', always gotta keep an eye on da town at night. It's an important job." There was a pause between the two, neither knowing quite what to say in the situation. "...well, I guess...we could talk 'bout las' night's...incident, or ya can just 'pologize and get ta work on yer morning exercises. 'ow's dat sound, eh?"

"Look, Boss, I really don't know what came over me, but I won't apologise. This town still needs you, and you're getting on in years, so you have to take it easy and watch out for yourself and your health...though I know that I'm essentially talking to a wall at this point, so I'm just gonna start my morning exercises." Shaking his head in defeat, Siegfried returned to the cottage, quickly returning with the sword he took out when he went patrolling.

"Ya're right about talkin' ta a wall about me 'ealth. I'm perfectly 'ealthy. Besides, it's non yer business. But...Fine ...fine. I know we can both be a bit 'ardheaded; at least, dat's what I'm told. A lot. So let's jus' focus on yer exercises fer now." Siegfried positioned himself at the edge of the forest, far from anything else and began his morning exercises with his sword. As sweat began to fly from Siegfried, the Boss started to call out instructions to the young man training and jumping in to spar Siegfried using his walking staff from time to time. "Keep yer speed up; ya gotta be da fastest on da field if ya really wanna be useful; also if ya wanna survive." With metal cutting through the air and heavy breath, Siegfried continued on. "Lower. Yer pretty tall fer a 'uman so ya gotta compensate and stay low; outta yer enemy's sight. Dat's better, keep it up, boy." Siegfried was in a trance as if he were truly on a battlefield; he was giving it his all. "Dat's it; dat's it. Keep dat up and no one can take ya on." With his sword in hand, his mind was clear, no confusion, no apprehension; the only thing in his mind was the sword, its balance, the extension of self that was his swordsmanship. "Almost dere, boy. Keep at it." Practised exercises embedded into his soul flow with the wind, and his ritual ends with a final lunge. "Dere ya go. Dat's what I like ta see."