Chapter 4: Breath of Steel, Tears of War
Everything was so bright. The darkness slowly drowned out with light. It was cold in the air and the brisk air battered against his skin. He laid flat on his back, his head aching barely able to move. His body slowly began to wake up after he was capable of partially opening his eyes. He could twitch and wiggle the finger and toes on the right side of his body. His right arm and leg began to twist as Kaleb started to panic. His heart started racing and he wheezed as he kept moving trying to free himself from his idle state. His body was in pain all over and the more he moved the more he felt it, his bones bruised & scraped skin. His joints were stiff, as if they needed to be oiled. He felt it all & could now see the bright light as he opened his eyes fully, yet still not having lifted the back of his head up from the cold hard surface.
Kaleb: “ H-Hello? Hello! Someone please..someone please help me! Help me!” Kaleb struggled, he choked on a bit of blood as the words fumbled out of his mouth. He jolted but couldn’t fully function his body and it only frustrated him more. Kaleb unlatched from the last bit of his sanity, completely losing his stable mind. Then he felt someone grab him. He felt weight on top of his arm and chest. Someone was holding him done. They moved the light from his eyes and as Kaleb's sight began to adjust he started to calm down. He could see the person holding him.
Standing there was a short bearded man. He wore a brown apron and had a long grey beard hanging from an elderly face. Sporting a leather belt and gloves, he had a matching pair of googles strapped to his forehead around his brown cloth beanie-like cap. A pipe poked out from his mouth, resting between his lips. His skin was a pale tan. His eyes sunken into his skull, were a very dark brown hiding beneath thick white eyebrows.
Kaleb’s breathing was slowing but his guard was still up. Lifting his head he tried to move away from the man. Last time he saw someone who looked like him he was painfully laying in a pool of his own blood.
Bearded man: “Hold still! Hold still! You have to hold still or you’ll tear your stitches lad. Just relax.”
Kaleb: “Who are you? Where am I?!”
Bearded man: “My name is Zane. Calm yourself lad I don’t mean you any harm. I’m the one who patched you up alright! You’re in my home, on me operating table.” He walks away from Kaleb and fiddles at his desk across the room.
They were in a small dark room with a stove and chimney, barely visible because the single bright bulb was placed near Kaleb's resting table. Even small furniture was taking up space in this congested home. Pictures and wooden shelves were attached to the walls and a dirty brown rug laid on the floor, center of the room. There were only two visible doors. both brown and wooden with golden knobs. Both on opposite sides of the room. The room was very cold, sticky almost— and the bearded man wore thicker clothing. He’d lit a bright red fire in a fireplace near the metal door.
Kaleb: “Zane? Did you operate on me? W-Why can’t I feel my arm and leg? M-My right arm and leg I can’t feel them, it's just cold there.” He tried sitting himself up to better see the man, who was wheeling over a tall structure cloaked in a white sheet.
Zane: “I told ye’ lad, you were operated on. I could barely fix you up. ye’ almost died out there in the desert, but..I saved ye’ . Lucky ye’ got such a strong heart. Your right arm and leg weren’t so lucky along with 4 of your 12 left ribs.”
Kaleb: “Wait wait what did you say to me!?”
Zane: “They all had to be replaced.” He said casually as if it were something he’d done before, as if it were normal to him. “Nothing I couldn’t fix so I replaced everything that was too damaged. The ribs, the arm, the leg.” He pulls the sheet off of the tall structure revealing a dirty mirror with a wooden frame. He wings it at Kaleb and shines the light on his body on top of the interesting table.
Kaleb’s entire left arm was replaced with metal. From the top of his shoulder blade there were only metal replacements. A forged bicep that connected at a sphere-like metallic joint that combined the lower arm and hand into a fully functioning metal arm. The same for his right leg. The brown flesh and bone were replaced from the knee down with a very cold, very dark grey metal leg and foot. Both the prosthetic limbs had golden engravings along every segment’s edge to make a beautiful work of art. Forged from unknown metals and bright flames. But to Kaleb it was horrifying. A cheap imitation designed to torture him and wish he’d never opened his eyes to begin with. It jolted and twitched as if his new arm itself had begun to wake as well.
His soul shriveled into a pit of despair as his mind sunk into madness. He began screaming at the top of his lungs. Swinging and twisting as much as he could, completely turning himself and flipping the metal table over to its side. Kaleb’s body crashes into the wooden floor and he stops yelling. He groaned in pain and grit his teeth at the terrible vibrations the metal limbs made against his healing wounds and sore fragmented body. He starts to simper and quietly cry in pain. He’s in complete horror after seeing what had been done to his body. Everything hurt, he was screaming on the inside but cried into his right fist as he laid there flat on his chest.
Kaleb: “Why, why!? Why me? Why did you do this to me?!” He starts punching the ground repeatedly with his only normal hand. He was tired but ignored his fatigue as he tried to stand up. Unable to properly move his new body parts, he fails and only succeeds in lifting his chest up off of the floor by pushing off of the ground slowly.
Zane walks over and helps Kaleb up to his feet and supports his weight from beside him while they make their way towards the chair resting beside the fireplace. Kaleb put almost all of his weight into zane. Limping and whimpering his way over to the seat. His left leg squeaking and dragging across the wooden floor. He braces himself against the chair’s arm before dropping himself backwards into its cushions.
Zane: “You need to relax Lad. I promise it was the only way. I saved a life and all ye’ do is sit there crying and screaming? I’m sorry but the damaged parts needed to be replaced. Lad, would ye’ rather not be able to walk at all. Would ye’ rather I just left ye’ there to bleed out and die there in the dirt lad? I didn’t think so.” He walks away from Kaleb, stern and discerning, releasing a sarcastic chuckling beneath his breath. He reaches high to retrieve a small glass cup he had on a shelf and fills it with water from the kettle that sat near the masonry oven.
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Kaleb: He looks at the short man like he was completely insane. “Broken parts? Do you think I’m some type of damn machine? I’mma person! I-I was a person. Look at this” he starts to break down again.
“Look at this! Look at me! What you did to me! I’m a freak! I’m in pain! It hurts and you’re laughing with no care in the world!” Kaleb’s face folds and his eyes fill with tears. His hands shake and rattle as he holds them up to his face observing them. He looks back at the dwarf, through trembling tears, “Where am I and how the hell do I get home?”
The metal finger shaped digits slowly opened and closed at his command, yet he felt nothing. Not an itch or stray breeze against his hairs. He felt nothing at all. The rattling of his new prosthetic got worse and both of his hands started to shake more. He watched as a single teardrop landed on this atrocity of a replacement. It rolled down his palm and left a trail behind it. Sliding over the very tiny and distinct smudges and scratches along the smooth cold surface. He started to quietly sob again, shutting his eyes tightly hoping to open them and see his big sister there. Right there beside him. He opened them, only to see Zane standing there holding a cup of water out towards Kaleb.
Zane: “Drink it. Ye’ lost a lot of blood. Ye’ need to hydrate lad.” Kaleb, although hesitant at first, takes the glass from him using his new right hand and drinks.
Just then the room began to shake and things fell over. Plates falling from shelves, the tools clanked and rattled in drawers. A loud explosion could be heard from above them, followed by the sound of Kaleb’s cup shattering in his hand out of fear. The walls shook harder and specks of dust and dirt rained down from the ceiling.
Kaleb: “What the hell was that!?” He looks around confused, concerned and frightened.
Zane: “The mines most likely. Or the tanks, cannons maybe. We’re underground, lad! We’ll hear anything that’ll cause explosions or harm large flocks of armed men from down here.” He shakes his head in disappointment. “My people. Up there fighting the knights! And for what? Senseless war? A dead king? Us dwarves don’t even care about the advancement of a human kingdom! Yet we fight with them, and against them. It’s sickening! If ye’d want to blame anyone for what happened to ye’ lad…it’s the kingdoms and their war. Their war stretches far and wide across all the lands. And they don’t care who gets hurt in between.” The shaking stopped and Zane stood from his seat on this old couch and reached beneath it pulling out wool blankets, laying them on top of the couch.
“Here lad. Lay down, it’s getting late.”
Kaleb: He slowly starts standing up gritting his teeth and grunting quietly in pain as his body is still sore and weak. He makes his way over to the couch and sits down again. Kaleb didn’t know this man from a grain of salt, but he felt a sense of genuineness in his tone.
“How do you know it’s getting late if we’re underground? And what do you mean about dwarves and wars? Those short men up there?..In the armor were-?”
Zane: He loudly interrupts Kaleb from beside him.
“Dwarves lad! They were all dwarves. Pureblooded, pointy eared, strong, capable and crafty dwarves lad! Battling ye’ humans! Those bastards. Ye’ know the only reason I saved you was because you weren’t a knight. The humans make me sick, they hurt and kill and burn everything and force us to fight alongside them in their own petty squabbles! Gah!” He throws his hands up in the air and walks away, disgusted by the thought of humans. He sounded like he’d had a long history of being disappointed by the actions of mankind. “But I digress. We dwarves do love a good fight every now and then. But the humans. The things I’ve seen them do to each other for no good reason…they’re terrible. More dangerous than the beasts that walk these lands.”
Kaleb: In complete disbelief at what he was hearing, he refused to believe this man’s words. No way was this man an actual dwarf. A fake species of short bearded men. Like something he’d read from a children’s book or seen in a movie. He’d almost even laugh if he hadn’t been through so many heart wrenching events beforehand. “You can’t be serious. You actually believe you’re some type of dwarf? You’re a short but magical dwarf man? Yeah right.”
Zane: He removes his hat revealing his balding grey head and sideburns, along with his pointed ears.
“Who else do you think could have such a glorious beard? Not a human, lad! And certainly not a bloody elf! HA!” He laughs at himself despite Kaleb’s lack of amusement. He stops laughing and clears his throat once he notices Kaleb hadn’t joined him.
“Well. One thing’s for certain. Only a skilled dwarf, such as myself, could make an arm and leg as gorgeous or functional as the ones ye’ got there. Even has a retractable blade! Durable and lightweight metallic skeletal system, covered in thick layers of Galthtrum Metal! Honestly ye’ should be happy I found you. Lucky man to become one with metal. A dwarf could dream.” He walks away towards one of the doors and opens it.
Inside the room, Kaleb could see, there was a small work desk and a bed with plaid wool blankets on top of it and large puffy cushions beneath those.
Zane walks halfway through the door and starts to close it before looking back at Kaleb.
Zane: “I recommend ye’ try and get some rest lad. You need it.” The door completely closes.
Kaleb laid back and tried his best to relax. The new body he’d been gifted made it difficult and he spent a large portion of his “rest” tossing and turning uncomfortably. Eventually he did fall asleep and the room was completely silent. No more explosions or shaking walls. Only the crackling and snapping of burning firewood. Hours pass and Kaleb wakes up out of his sleep. He heard something. Chains. Metal chains dragging and tapping against one another. Chains. Moving, what sounded like below ground, even lower than they were. Kaleb slowly sits up confused, unable to sleep through the noise. His curiosity drove him off of the couch. He searched the room limping from corner to corner trying to find the source of the sound. Just as he was about to retire back to the couch, the floor creaked beneath his foot and the sound stopped. He stepped again listening to the floor squeak. He kneeled down onto the floor and knocked. It was hollow and the sounds of his knocking echoed under him. The sound of chains returned again for a second, followed by someone else knocking back. Kaleb— shocked, knocks again and waits. Seconds after his knocks were returned. The same three knocks right after his. Kaleb moves the rug out of the way, folding it over itself revealing a trap door! Hidden under the old, tattered, brown rug. The door had a small lock on its black latch, keeping it closed. And before he could even act there it was again. The sound of the chains slowly being dragged across a hard surface. Again the sound was returned back to him. Just like Kaleb did before. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.