Chapter Text
“Even this child was born into invisible chains. Mrmm.”
- Brumm
-------------------
The cold air swept through the small town, making the ill-prepared shiver. They were all huddled around the square, cautiously watching their guests.
What were they waiting for, the locals wondered?
“It’s been too long.” One such guest spoke, gripping his instrument in apprehension. He glanced to the tallest of the trio, but otherwise did not prompt him to speak.
“Ooooh, it couldn’t possibly have happened, could it? Such a sad, sad thing if it has...” The woman beside him breathed, though a faint smile was on her lips--It always was. Her claws reached up to touch her chin, or at least the half that wasn’t covered by her split mask.
The last guest, the tallest and calmest, remained silent. He stared off into the distance, past the town limits, and into the shadows of the dense greenery. It was as if he was watching something that nobody else could see.
And then, finally, he closed his eyes and bowed his head.
“It has, Divine.” He finally answered, voice soft and fragile. “It is a rare occurrence, but its scarcity is not valued. No, it is downright feared… The bearer has fallen, and the Grimmchild along with them.”
Gasps erupted from the townsfolk, none of them prepared for the news. The one who had been sent on this quest, to help perform this ritual--They had been their finest warrior. How could they have perished?
“Wh-what do you mean, they’ve fallen?” The mayor of the town, a squat beetle with a red carapace, asked as he hobbled over to the group.
Grim looked to him for a moment, his normally serene expression now giving way to exhaustion and sorrow.
“They found a cave, but it was unstable. Our scarlet eyes see no possibility of surviving the accident.”
And without another word, he turned and strode off towards the tents on the other side of the town. His companions did not follow, only giving sympathetic looks in his direction.
“What does… How does this affect the ritual?” The mayor then pressed, directing his attention to Brumm.
“Mmm. We cannot continue it here. Too much energy has already been expended. We’ll try somewhere else. We’re sorry for your loss, mmm.”
Several locals began to talk hurriedly amongst themselves, still not believing their ears. So that was it? Nothing more? The troupe hadn’t even explained what the ritual was for, and now they were going to abandon it?
“A shame, such a shame.” Divine cooed to herself, now starting to shuffle off to her own tent. “I would have liked to stay here a while longer…”
Brumm stared after her, still clenching his instrument. It had been many years since the last time this had happened… He wasn’t sure if it was easier this time around. He had mixed feelings about the ritual to begin with, but…
Ignoring the pressing questions and desperate cries from the locals, he began to stomp his way back to the tents. He would need to speak with Grimm, after all. It was not a good idea to leave that man alone when he was feeling down.
Upon reaching the door of the larger of the two tents, he hesitated. He did not know for sure what state the troupe leader would be in.
Angry? He had experience with handling that, but with Grimm, anger was definitely a dangerous thing.
Sad? Perhaps that would be easier to quell, without risking his skin, but… Brumm had never actually seen the leader anything more than morose. What would he do if that were the case?
And what if it was neither? What did that mean?
…
There was no point in fretting over those things. He just needed to get things over with.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the tent.
The hallways, though normally dim, seemed even darker than usual. No faint candles could be seen anywhere, and no Grimmkin floated about to provide their own luminescence.
Not wanting to get shaken up already, Brumm continued forward, his footsteps landing softly on the ground. Their lack of echo seemed all the more suffocating, but he pressed on.
Finally, after what seemed like several minutes of walking, he came to the main room of the tent. Normally, there would be a few lights lit, providing view of the entire floor and the seats where the Grimmkin would watch various performances. But just like the hallways before it, it was unnaturally dim.
“I need some time alone, Brumm.” Spoke Grimm’s voice, sounding distant and brittle.
Brumm instead took a few more steps forward, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, finding his master standing in the shadows. His back was to Brumm, and though his still stood up straight, his head hung unusually low.
“I think being alone is the last thing you need. What happened… It complicates things, mmm.”
“Of course it does. Without the Grimmchild or the bearer, we cannot complete the ritual. But not enough flames remain in this place for the Grimmkin to work with.” Grimm replied, almost mechanically.
“Then we must go someplace else. Have you heard from any acolytes?”
“Yes. I know we are pressed for time, and the Heart, it... “
Grimm let out a sigh, now finally turning to face Brumm. His exhaustion was apparent in his eyes. Was this because of their failure, or something else, Brumm wondered?
“The Grimmchild is still my child, though.” The leader finally whispered, closing his bright red eyes. “I am proud to part with those that have taken in their share of the flames, but to have them…”
He trailed off, opening his eyes to look to Brumm again. His expression was broken and needy, things he never expressed unless at the absolute end of his rope. This apparently disturbed him more than Brumm had expected.
But they couldn’t dwell on it. They had to stay focused.
“I am aware you would like to mourn, sir… But it is vital we keep moving, otherwise the Heart will lose power.”
Brumm felt a twinge of disappointment in himself as he spoke those words. He had never really wanted to aid the Nightmare’s Heart, but he had no other choice. At least he still had free will, he supposed. He had read stories of similar beings keeping their subordinates in control through their powers.
But he wondered if that free will was becoming too much of an obstacle for Grimm right now. If he couldn’t get over the despair of losing the child, they couldn’t pick things up again and keep the Heart sustained.
“I will see if any distant torches have been lit.” Grimm finally said flatly. “I will let you and Divine know when it is time to go. Until then… Please leave me alone.”
Brumm gave a respectful nod, deciding to be satisfied with that answer. He turned and went out the way he had come, leaving Grimm alone in the dark tent once more.
“My child, please forgive us…” Grimm whispered to the open air. “Though our eyes kept watch, they could not predict what happened. Your flames may be snuffed, but they burned oh-so-bright when they were still flickering…”
“This looks like a good spot to rest, hm?”
“...”
“You certainly aren’t the chatty type, are you? You haven’t even told me if you have a name!”
“...”
“What if I gave you one? Would you like that?”
“...”
“I’m gonna take that as a yes. I dunno what you think, but you look like a ‘Hilda’ to me. So I’m gonna call you Hilda from now on!”
“...”
“Aw, at least tell me if you like it or not! You really just wanna get those flames, huh? Well, don’t worry about it! As long as you’re with me, it’ll be a piece of cake! But for now, we should rest. Reverie is a beautiful place, but it’s full of dangerous creatures!”
“...”
“We only need a few more flames to finish the ritual. They’re deep in the forest, but I’m not the champion of Reverie for nothing! We’ll have it--Huh? What’s that noise?”
“...”
“Well, obviously not you, but--”
RUMBLE…
“Hilda… I think we should get out of--!”
Scarlet eyes opened to the darkness, unsure what to make of it. They needed little time to adjust, but it’s not like there was a lot to see in the first place.
A stone chamber, cramped and dusty. A pile of rocks to their left, faint beams of light poking through the top, and a pool of blood seeping out the bottom.
Blood…?
They attempted to push themself up, only to find their wings pinned by more rocks. Their attempts to pull out from under them were met with pain, forcing them to stop.
What had even happened…? Their head spun, and their memories were fuzzy…
They had something they needed to do. They couldn’t just sit around here, pinned by rocks or not. Where was their guide, the one who was helping them find the flames? Surely they--
Oh.
The eyes shifted back to the blood. It was already dark and coagulated, indicating it had been here for a while. How long had they been unconscious?
However long it had been, their guide had bled out in that time. There was no way they could safely find the other flames now.
They had failed to complete the ritual…
What did this mean for them? What do they do now? Should they go back to Grimm? Or should they accept their fate and waste away in this cave?
No. No they couldn’t--They had to try and fix things. They wouldn’t let themself sit here and wallow in defeat. They could finish this! Their father--No, Grimm--wouldn’t have to worry about the state of the Heart.
But… These rocks were heavier than they were. There was no way they would be able to escape without causing serious damage to their wings.
…
If that was the price they had to pay, then so be it.
A flurry of struggling. The horrific sound of tearing material. A painful screech followed by desperate clambering up the rock pile, squirming out of the small opening and out into the open.
The bright sun flooded their vision, but it would not deter them. They had a journey to finish. They were going to find the other flames, all for the sake of Grimm.
If they couldn’t…
Then they were a sorry excuse for a Grimmchild.