Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Winters pulled out a chair, intending to sit across from Anna.

"No." Anna looked down, her voice soft and calm, "You sit over here."

Winters awkwardly sat down on the bed, beside Anna.

They were a little distance apart, yet so close, close enough for Winters to feel Anna's body heat, close enough that Winters might have been scorched by the moonlight.

Anna silently placed her hand between them, and Winters instinctively held onto Anna's slender hand.

Anna's hand was very soft, burning hot. But it was thin, skin and flesh wrapping the bones, without the protection of calluses.

Winters even worried his hand might scratch Anna's.

Anna felt a sense of barrier too, which surprised and saddened her.

She had come to her lover's side, yet it seemed to push the distance between them further.

But at least they could feel each other, sitting silently, holding each other's hands.

Anna broke the silence in a whisper, "How's your leg? Does it hurt?"

Winters' left leg was healing quickly, he didn't need a cane to walk anymore, and his steps were no different from a normal person's.

Yet the feeling of strangeness was still there, turning sore and unbearable after walking a few steps, all endured by sheer will.

That's why he had grown fond of swimming, for in the water, the pain from his old wound could temporarily ease.

Everyone thought he had completely recovered, back to being the invincible Lieutenant Montaigne of the past.

Winters neither wished nor wanted to explain, he had thought the pain and anguish were known only to himself.

He didn't need to seek solace from others either, obstinately believing doing so was pointless.

Anna was the first to ask him if it hurt.

"It hurts." Tears filled Winters' eyes uncontrollably, "It really hurts, it's been hurting all the time."

Anna leaned forward, Winters wanted to stop her.

But Anna firmly told Winters, "I want to look."

Winters' trousers were rolled up bit by bit, revealing the left leg that had been crushed by a horse's hoof and nearly devoid of any external injuries, leaving only a shallow red mark.

Anna's fingertips brushed over that dark red mark, "From the outside, it's almost impossible to tell there was a wound."

"Mm."

"But on the inside." Anna's forehead rested on her lover's knee, gently embracing his left leg, "It must be completely different, right?"

Winters choked back his tears, "Mm."

Anna let go of the rolled-up trouser leg, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles, and sat back beside Winters.

This time there was no distance between them, tightly against each other.

"I don't want you to stay here," Winters looked at the tips of Anna's hair, he didn't dare look into her eyes, "Iron Peak County will become very unsafe."

"Your hair is turning white." Anna did not directly respond, she gently encircled her lover, "Shall I pluck some for you?"

Winters lay submissively on Anna's legs, like a little dog.

Anna gently stroked the traces of pale white on her lover's forehead, "This wound still hasn't healed."

Feeling the warmth and softness of Anna's body, Winters softly "hmmed" in acknowledgment.

"It might never heal."

"Mm."

"That's okay." Anna's fingers ran through her lover's hair, "Anyway, you were never handsome."

Winters moved his neck uneasily a few times.

Feeling her lover's anxiety, Anna gently plucked out a white hair, "However, you are a little bit handsome... someone said you have a good presence."

"Mm." Winters nodded.

"Don't move."

"Mm."

The two were clinging to each other, Anna searching for the sporadic white hairs in Winters' hair.

"Why don't you go home? You promised me you'd go home." Anna asked gently.

Winters was flooded with a myriad of thoughts.

He thought of the piles of severed limbs outside the medical facility, the sensation of blood splattered on his cheeks and eyes, the faces of the soldiers, the Wolf Town farmers living in despair bringing the few eggs they had to visit him, the massacred girl from St. Giles Valley - not even fourteen years old, the smiling faces of everyone, he thought of many, many things...

But he couldn't tell Anna, he didn't know why, he couldn't speak of it, nor knew where to begin.

"I... I don't know either." Winters answered bitterly, "I don't know how to explain, I'm sorry."

"That's okay." Anna hugged her lover, gently kissing his forehead, "You can tell me slowly later, I'm willing to listen. You can take your whole life to tell me."

In an instant, Winters' tears broke through. His body shook, tears dripping onto Anna's clothes, dampening the fabric.

Without asking why, Anna just held her lover, quietly shedding tears.

The two clung to each other and wept, Anna involuntarily hummed a lullaby - one her mother used to hum to her.

"Thank you," Winters said softly.

"Why thank you."

"Thank you for being wonderful," Tears slid down Winters' face, "It's really good, you're even better than I imagined."

Anna laughed through her tears, playfully tugging at Winters' hair, "You're really something else!"

Winters also broke into a smile.

"What about me?" Winters asked with concern, "What did you imagine me to be like?"

Anna lay on Winters' head, gently swaying, tenderly saying, "You've changed a lot, and yet many things have not. You're a little different from the you I remember, but I... I still..."