Thunderlight

The Aftermath (Cont.)

It wasn't long after that Torquil bid him goodbye. He said it felt like the town was choking him, and that he wanted to move on to someplace new. Mott assured him he understood, bid him a safe journey, and tried not to think about how this town used to be Torquil's favorite place to be.

Mott spent the next few hours helping rebuild the community center. Starting there seemed like the best course of action, as it could work as a headquarters of sorts for the town in the midst of reconstruction. With a good portion of the townspeople working together, they got the building standing again after a quarter of a day. By the time they finished, Mott's rib was aching and the sun was starting to set. He decided then was a good time to quit for the day. Rest is necessary to recovery.

So, he set off back to Hilda's apartment, which survived the attack in miraculously good shape. Some windows were shattered and several dishes fell off shelves, but the glass was easy to clean and the windows were covered in tarp as a temporary measure. Overall, their house looks fairly good in comparison to others—which is probably why they've invited less fortunate people to live with them while their homes are being rebuilt. Their little apartment has been rather crowded these days, with several people stuffing themselves into one room, but Mott doesn't mind. There's a welcoming sense of community in the crowdedness, giving him new people to lean on and be leaned on by in return.

Walking through the town this evening is a vastly different experience than his first walk through the town, or his walk through during the festival, or his walk through in the night just before the calamity struck. All of those moments were filled with a burgeoning sense of awe for the wonders of the city: the aqueducts, the architecture, the art, the crystal clear sky. This moment is different. The awe remains, but it's shifted targets. He no longer regards the town with awe; rather, the people. The town is destroyed; the beauty it once held has been razed to the ground. But the people stand back up, dust themselves off, and work through the rubble. It's like a forest after a devastating fire: everything may be burnt to ash, but there's new life sprouting out of the cinders.

There's a bittersweet hope to that, and Mott carries it close to his heart.

The cobblestone street is orange in the sunset, almost like a street of gold. In the center of it, twenty feet ahead, he spots a familiar figure. Lenny sits in the street with a group of children around him, teaching them all how to make flower crowns. The children watch with rapt attention, their eyes big and wide as they follow along. Their stems droop and the petals are a bit torn, but Lenny compliments each one until the child presenting it is beaming. Mott stops, watching the scene with a soft, fond smile on his face.

It's not long after that the children's parents call them away, and Lenny waves to them all as they depart for the evening. Standing, he watches the children go with a contemplative look on his face, like he's envisioning their futures in this town. Mott wonders what he sees. Does he see the sprouts rising out of the rubble like Mott does?

There's not much more time to think about it, because Lenny turns and sees him. A bright smile tugs on his face, his eyes glimmering with joy. Without a moment's hesitation, he bounds over to Mott, arms open wide. Mott grins, takes a step forward, and warmly accepts the embrace.

"I was wondering where you were," Lenny remarks as he pulls away. He brushes some splinters of wood off Mott's handkerchief. "Were you helping at the community center?"

"How'd you guess?"

"It just sounds like something you'd do."

Mott doesn't know why that warms his heart so much.

Holding the flower crown he'd made, Lenny raises it up to Mott's head and motions for Mott to duck down. Mott obeys and the crown is placed gently on his head. Glancing up at it, Mott asks, "What's this for?"