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12-29-2015, 01:30 PM
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ULRIK the ENGINEER
Ulrik had found a snippet of bravery, but quite the opposite effect had taken place in his soul. An iron wall had thawed to reveal a beast inside who was more understanding and gentle. He had spoken at length with Essetia without criticizing her appearance or walking away, and he had embrace Torleik after a lifetime of avoiding family. The Engineer had changed in ways most would consider "good" but he found confusing. All he knew was that when he left the Basin, the world opened up. No longer was he called "knitter" and left alone in the recesses of the mountains. He was embraced. Even Ophelia, the absolutely mad mare whom Torleik saw something in, spoke kindly. Those in the World's Edge, though wary, seemed to like him well enough (save for the moon goddess, of course), and he wandered through Helovia with bronze eyes not hardened with bitterness and defeat but open to new possibilities. A change of scenery and a relocation were just a small part of this change, but they were significant enough to add to the entire experience. Thus, he waited for Deimos' response, knowing that there was a world of opportunity in front of him. A thousand things could have been said, but true to what Ulrik already knew, the stallion's words were few, curt and to the point. A tight smile curved his lips on instinct, a reaction to knowing that some tigers never change their stripes. Even with a world of opportunity ahead, this beast was true to his ways - right or wrong. At least he was consistent. Was the offer for his metal back legitimate? Or was this some sort of thinly veiled dig at the fact that they didn't need him or his metal anymore? Was he trying to erase every inch of him from the Basin? Good luck. Ulrik and Torleik crafted banners. He made the tent, and it was his magic he sacrificed to make it silenced. And what did that earn him? A golden boy as a king and a leader who stood before him, unwilling or unable to offer thanks or solace. "I'll retrieve it then," he replied, deep, guttural tones comfortable and not rude. Ulrik was not angry - not anymore. He was not upset or hurt. Instead, he was in that place of serenity where he was seeing with clarity and understanding. "Unless you plan on using the scrap..." he trailed. Deimos, for all other faults Ulrik could think of, was very smart. He probably found another metal worker somewhere, or he could trade it to the Dragon's Throat if he wanted. So why offer it to him? |
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