Pairs of anxious eyes watched as the metallic leg slowly bent on the knee. "Try rotating the heel," Iroha said.
Nothing happened and the female blacksmith shifted uneasily in nervousness. It would be a shame on her lineage if she couldn't properly craft an artificial limb—then perhaps, it was true what her honourable father had told her: women had no place in forging.
However, her worry—as well as everyone else's in the room—was lifted when the action was done. It wasn't smooth at first—perhaps it's the lubricant—but it gradually improved.
Neil looked at his new limb impassively. It was made from metal—titanium, if he recalled correctly, and coated to give a stainless and rust-resistant properties. Iroha has crafted it so it resembled the bone structure of a real leg, and then added some layers duplicating muscles and flesh for both appearance and added strength. However, it was ironically lighter than his real leg.
"Your arm will be done in a few days," the blacksmith informed. "It demands higher attention to details so that the fingers would work properly."
Neil nodded. Klaus handed over a cane to him. "You should try walking on your new leg, it's also in your best interest to have a fresh air."
Neil took the cane and fitted it in his sole arm. Reine helped him to stand; he didn't protest when she did. Iroha and Klaus moved to the adjacent room to discuss about the artificial limb; it was clear that Klaus was really impressed by the creation, although it was a sudden request.
The blond walked slowly, trying his best not to limp too much, towards the exit. He knew Reine kept her pace such a way that she could come to his assistance immediately and he hated her pity.
"I don't need you babysit me," he grumbled in a low voice.
"I want to," she replied succinctly.
"What a weird woman."
That remarked ended their conversation until they reached the town plaza, where Neil and Reine would usually set up their stall. Rod and Gwen—she had been in excellent conditions these past few days—stood in as their respective substitutes, although Rod spent most of his time assisting Gwen.
There was a third, unfamiliar vendor that caught Reine's interest, setting up her stall at the side of the plaza. That particular vendor, an old woman with a slightly hunched back, wasn't there in the morning when she set up the stall with Gwen.
Before she could ponder even further, Rod's voice caught her attention.
"Yooo Neil!"
Rod and Gwen left their stalls to approach Neil and Reine. "It seems that the leg is working well, huh?" Rod remarked.
"So far, yeah."
"Please don't force yourself…" Gwen chimed in with worry.
Neil nodded.
"Young woman…"
Both Reine and Gwen turned at the shrilly voice, unsure of which one of them the voice was talking to. Much to their surprise, the third vendor had moved from her stall and stood nearby without either of them noticing. The old woman walked slowly and reached out towards Reine.
"Such skin…" she said while caressing the back of the pinkette's palm with her thumb. Reine couldn't be sure whether it was meant as a compliment or an insult instead. "How about a tattoo?"
"Tattoo?"
"Yes," she replied. "A picture speaks a thousand words, they say."
"Let's get one," Neil suggested to the surprise of all.
"Us?" Reine asked hesitatingly.
He nodded.
"What picture, though?" she asked, starting to warm up to the idea.
"I have an idea," the old woman replied. "How about this?"
She produced a picture of single red rose surrounded by snowdrop anemones. "Flowers of love, fitting for a pair of young lovers as you are."
"It looks good, Reine," Gwen said.
"Yeah!" Rod agreed cheerfully.
Reine paused for a moment. Personally, she didn't have any problem with such a tattoo, but what about Neil? Tattoo of flowers didn't seem to suit him.
"Let's get this," he said, surprising her yet again today.
Reine watched as the old woman carefully carved the picture onto her skin. She chose to put the tattoo on the back of her palm, below the corner between her thumb and index finger. It wasn't as painful as she thought it would be. The old woman started by drawing a thin outline in black, before coloring it with.
What caught her interest was how the red ink didn't appear red on her skin; once the ink seeped into her skin, it disappeared, leaving her skin as pristine as it was.
"It'll take some time for the color to appear, no need to worry," the old woman said, sensing her uneasiness. "Once this rose is in its full bloom of red, it's over."
"Oh, okay."
The old woman smiled as she carefully worked on her craft: a single red rose crowned by snowdrop anemones.
"Do you know the story of these flowers?" the old woman asked as she began to color the first anemone. Unlike the red ink, the white color stayed on her skin upon application.
"The flower that sprung from Adonis' blood," Reine replied.
"Correct," the old woman said. "This fragile flower… so fragile that a mere wind could scatter it… does that not portray the frailty of mortals?"
Reine didn't say anything. She was aware of mythologies, but since it wasn't exactly her field of interest, she only knew the common or famous ones: Adonis was one of them.
"But therein lies the beauty of mortals and love," the old woman continued. "Just like how the beauty of anemone remains even after it was scattered by the wind… true love shall stay no matter how far apart the wind brings it away… an immortal entity born from a mortal, the truest of any legacy."
Unlike Reine, Neil wasn't exactly paying attention to what the old woman's said about love and mortal. Unlike her, he was aware; he knew Rod was, too. His eyes were glued to his wrist, right above the faint blue lines of his veins, where his tattoo had been drawn. It was slightly smaller than Reine's, but was obvious enough against his fair skin. Just like Reine, the rose at the center of his tattoo had not shown its true color yet. His mind was stuck to a sentence she had said long before that:
Once this rose is in its full bloom red, it's over.
The time is ticking away,
and only Neil is aware of it
Stay tuned for the next chapter!
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