Rain

Rain

The old man sat in his seat next to the anvil while the metal in the mold cooled into shape and he slowly but consistently fed the mold his aura. I noticed that he was starting to get low and suggested I take over while he recovered. He accepted this idea and let me pour my aura into the mold in a trickle fashion with majority of it going through the stone and into the metal. It was an unusual feeling as I could sense my aura pressing against the metal and carving new pathways into it's molten body.-

When my aura got low the old man who had recovered a bit of his own would take over. We had a total of ten rotations between us before the old man split the mold releasing the still hot but solid spear head. It was about six inches long from the tip to the base that would attach to the handle and looked a elongated great white shark tooth. The metal was still glowing from the heat so I couldn't tell what color it was but I could definitely see the vein-like patterns on it's external surface.-

The old man attached the head in the same way as he did the pommel and had me "heal" the wooden handle firmly into place. After that he spent the next hour carefully polishing the head of the spear into a fine razors edge. "There's one last step lad , you need to flood this weapon with your aura. Not just one part of it though but the whole thing at once , gives it a special something and as your weapon its only right you finish it." The old man said while holding the spear up firmly despite his body protesting against the strain.-

This was by no means a light weapon as it easily weighed over a sixty pounds at this point. I had little trouble holding it with one hand and sat down on the ground cross legged holding it over my lap with both hands. I closed my eyes and pushed my aura into the handle while I meditated. My reserves drained and replenished themselves in an uneven manner at first before I fine tuned the flow so that I always regained more aura then I was losing by a small margin.-

Thinking on it I couldn't help but understand why I was saddened to hear of his impending end. Something about him just clicked with me , like a friend I made immediately and had to part with far too soon. 'Loneliness.' I realized. Like me the old man was alone in the world and accepted that. Sure I had my pokemon and even the people I met and befriended in this world like Birch and May. But as far as I knew I was the only person in this entire world not actually from this world , a singular existence like no other.-

In a manner of speaking the old man was similarly lonely and I connected with that knowledge. I didn't doubt that the old man did not feel the same since he definitely didn't know my situation. I left the old mans shop after that with my new spear and a dull ache that wouldn't go away. For the first time in as long as I can remember I felt RAGE. Rage at this ache in my chest and rage at myself for being so powerless , that I could do nothing to stop the old mans death.-

His time was coming and no matter how much I wished it so , Time waited for no man. I was in a foul mood over the next three days as I took jobs from the pokecenter and visited the old man on a daily basis to check up on him. On the fourth day I found him still in bed past noon with a smile on his face , dead. I informed the member of the Joy clan in the pokecenter of this and they verified it.-

The funeral was two days later and it came as little surprise to me that besides that same Joy clan member and the person in charge of burials I was the only person attending. It rained that day and I let the water wash over me as I stood vigil besides the fresh grave as a sign of respect. I could see the worry on the Joy clan member but in the end the pink haired woman left me alone. That was fine as well since I didn't need pity or support , merely silence to clear my head and move forward.