When forging, you must build with the strongest materials in your arsenal.
Materials meant to last.
After all, Hephaestus wouldn’t want it any other way.
Now for crafting outside of fabric, I wouldn’t know what materials would last but I know something more eternal than any material.
Of course, I am speaking of the inevitable fear that we all face, death itself.
When people think about it, all they can think about it is loss and they’re right to think that way.
It starts the moment they pass.
Any vision they had left is gone, no colors to see anymore.
No places left to travel or wander, their pets will wait on a body that never comes. Drewitt, I hope Colt never has to suffer like that without you.
Their blood stops flowing spelling the loss of a so-called masterpiece. It’s not art if you use a cadaver right, Redgrave?
If it’s a criminal in the hospital, the police officer watching over them loses all his authority, Cade, they answer to a higher power now.
A doctor loses all purpose when all they can do is write the time of death.
Drexl should know a dealer loses his client when the legal drugs didn’t help any more than the ones they could give.
An inventor does as well, the machines helping the person hold on to what matters most had failed them spelling their doom.
Then we move on to the funeral.
Before the ceremony even starts, the candies are eaten by the mourning attendees. It doesn’t matter if a jaw is broken, Toole, when the heart is.
Grimskull, you’d appreciate it when the preacher speaks about growing from the pain but saddened to know their words are lost like whispers in the wind the moment the crowd leaves the funeral parlor.
You see, most things are going to be lost to the passing of time, especially any intangibles locked away within someone’s mortal vessel or the consumables we all crave.
When it comes to death, very few things outside of the act linger.
First off are the memories.
Despite our tumultuous relationship, I still hold onto the moments that made me feel like my mom loved and cared about me.
Outside of those, there’s the photos.
When I won’t be able to remember the minute details about her, they’ll jog my memory to the place we took them and it will come back rushing in like a storm.
Lastly, there’s the body, buried deep in the soil, its bones remain intact forever.
As well forged as death is, there are always things that linger long past it.
Consider us those that linger.
When everyone else is long gone in the theater of death known as Warforged, Colt will do the one thing he’s good at and take a picture of the bodies before Tombstone buries them.
Their bones will last, I never said they wouldn’t be broken.
As for me, I’ll be the one El Mariachi Muerte never forgets.
I’ll be the note that destroys his symphony of destruction.