The Wanderer

Chapter 14

Author's Note:  Just an FYI before you read, this is a flashback.  It's italicized to set it apart, but it's kind of hard to tell on Wattpad.  This is the story that Ferrer is telling Saskia.  I just had to get out of my funk and write from a different time.  Anyway, hope you enjoy.

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            Ferrer never imagined the proposal he had so painstakingly planned would turn out so wrong.  Not only had she refused, but she had someone else.  The tall man Saskia had introduced as Sebastian didn’t say a word to either of them as he took in the details of the romantic setting.  Ferrer felt awkward and gangly next to the muscular stranger with his handsome dark features.  How could he compete against that?

            As Saskia left with the dark man, Ferrer knew in his heart he had lost her.  He saw in her eyes that she wasn’t coming back.  He tried to put the rejection behind him, pouring himself into his work, but with each day he found himself dwelling on Saskia.  Everywhere he turned in the village, he saw something that reminded him of her and each time he thought of her refusal, the splinter in his heart cut deeper until he felt as if he was constantly bleeding on the inside.

            It got so bad that he was walking around in a haze the majority of the time.  While his mind lingered on Saskia, his hands worked on autopilot, turning out wondrous creations.  His fame as blacksmith grew along with his pain each passing day. No matter what he did and the accomplishments he made, he couldn’t shake her from his mind.   He took on new avenues of work, tackling both silversmithing and goldsmithing, trying to drive her from his mind and heart, but nothing would work.  He put extra effort behind each swing of the hammer, trying to shatter the memories he had of her, but with each hit he only managed to pound her deeper into his soul.

            He hid his agony from everyone, but his sister Dociana could tell something was eating him alive.  The smile lines had faded from around his eyes, being replaced by deep lines on his forehead.  Where he had been carefree and laughed freely before, it was a day’s work if she could drag a smile from him and even that one was half-hearted, not reaching his eyes.  Dociana had never met Saskia, but she could choke the girl for what she had done to her brother.  He hadn’t told her any of the details of what happened, only that the girl had turned down his proposal.  He had feigned indifference to the entire event.  At first she had bought his act, the new devotion he had for his trade, thinking he had moved on.  But as the weeks and months passed, she could tell it was a lie.

            One night as he failed to come home from the shop again, too engrossed in his work to remember to rest, she decided she couldn’t take it anymore.  Even though it was well past midnight, probably closer to mid-morning, she redressed and lit a lantern.  Stomping through town to his shop, she cursed him with every step for being so stubborn.  When she reached the shop, she could see the fires still burning within.  Not bothering to knock, she flung the door open with such force that it flew back hitting the wall.  The loud bang that it made on impact startled her brother enough that he looked up at her, confusion written across his face.

            “What is wrong with you?” she screamed at him.  “I don’t know what made you think that it’s okay to forget about the rest of the world, but it’s not.  There are other people here, Ferrer.  You can’t just decide you’re going to withdraw so far into yourself that you cease to remember there are even other people depending on you.”

            Her words hit him like a slap across his face, shaking him from the apathy that had consumed him and sparking the anger that had been buried so deeply.  “How dare you come in here yelling at me?” he threw back with venom in his voice.  “You know what I’ve been through with Saskia and you come in here and reprimand me for being upset.  What?  Am I supposed to be happy that she turned me down for someone else?  Should I be glad that I wasn’t worth enough to make her stay with me?  You don’t even know what it feels like to have someone stab you in the chest, rip your heart out, and throw it in the ditch.  So don’t come in here yelling at me and then give me some little pep-talk to come back to reality.  It’s my life.  If I want to be upset, bitter, and withdrawn, then that’s my prerogative.  So, keep your feelings to yourself.”