Chapter Text
The center of the burg was bustling with life, chaos, and confusion. Merchants that had traveled from lands far and wide had set up their stands and tents to sell goods and whatnot, ranging from idols of their Kingdom to new exotic food. Nymm knew all of this, as it all happened at least once a year.
At least, that’s what Mother had told him before she disappeared.
That’s something Nymm didn’t forget.
Clutching his beloved accordion to his chest, Nymm sprinted about, pushing his way past the crowds and carts that took up the path of the central road. Somewhere behind him, someone knocked over a merchant’s stand, earning them a spray of dust to their face as well as some shrieks and angry hollers from the merchant. Fruits and trinkets tumbled across the dusty floors of the city’s main path, shining in the sunlight as the merchant scrambled around, frantically trying to gather all of his fallen items. Thieves and the poor not hesitant to sprint towards the road and grab what they could. Soldiers that paraded the cities ignored the merchant, instead running towards the road to pick up one or two items for themselves. The merchant cried out again in anger, fuming as he tried and failed to retrieve all of his items. Nymm was one of the bugs at fault, for he couldn’t resist taking at least a few items.
“Take what you can when there’s a new person in th’ town,” Nymm’s mother had said to him, smiling mischievously as she leaned against the shop’s wall, ignoring the trader’s enraged tirade. “You never know when ya might need that Rancid Egg, the smell could be quite useful as a distraction!” Nymm had smiled back at her, mentally noting whatever his mother said.
Shaking his head of the memories, Nymm ran off as he stuffed a King's Idol and a wrapped bundle of berries into the sack he held on his back. That advice that she had given him was over two years ago, a year before she had disappeared completely. Nymm didn’t forgive his mother for leaving him like this, but he didn’t hate for doing it, either.
Maybe one day she’ll come back for him, ready to smile with Nymm again as they ran off with roasted Hedgeflies. Laughing and enjoying the meal merrily as the shopkeepers stumbled about, failing to find the mysterious duo that had stolen his lunch.
One day, hopefully, a day not too far long, Nymm thought to himself wistfully as he continued to walk through the bustling streets of the central city. Running through the busy marketplace, a stranger caught Nymm’s eyes. Standing opposite of a Trader’s stand were three bugs that Nymm had never seen before.
Now, it wasn’t that rare to see a new type of bug within the city walls, especially with the new trading centers that had been relocated to the main city. However, these certain bugs had snared Nymm’s attention. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the bugs, especially the tallest red one, who stood with an air of authority.
These bugs were definitely none he had ever seen before, traveler or not. And clearly, the owner of the stand had never seen the likes of them before, either.
The shortest bug resembled that of a sort of caterpillar. Her lower body was all just a mass of bulging flesh from the waist down. However, from waist up, she resembled a skinny, common bug, her chest and arms similar to that of a mantis’ except for what seemed like a large maroon scarf that was wrapped stylishly around her shoulders. Half of her face was obscured by a mask, the other half left uncovered for the merchants to look upon. Her smile was wide and mocking, her uncovered eye shut tightly as if the light was too much for her. She was interesting, to say the least.
The second bug stood tall, his cloak dark like the shadows that he stayed in. His mask completely covered his face, his eyes shining bright red with warm, flickering flames. Two horns protruded from his head, curving upwards and slightly towards each other. He looked blankly at the merchant as the female bug hissed something to the merchant, who, in turn, smacked some coins onto her face.
The last bug was the tallest, Nymm’s interest being targeted at him the most. His horns were significantly longer than the second bug, his cloak longer and more elegant as well. Instead of him being completely dark-colored like the other of his kind, his horns were bright red, his cloak being a dark, blood-like crimson. His eyes, however, shone with the same fire as the second bug. Holding his head up regally, he stood with a silent, but controlled composure as the second bug shuffled next to him. Why were they there? They didn’t seem to be merchants or customers.
The second bug, the one in black, leaned over to snap a few words at the merchant before snarling and walking back to the third bug in red. The first one, not seeming to be paying much attention to the other two, grinned at a small greyish-black child, who was bouncing around and making weird noises, as well as muttering something that sounded like, “I ill ip out your eeth!” Nymm stared for a few seconds before ripping his eyes away to resume walking. However, before he could do so, a scream was heard from the trader.
“...A waste, really,” the crimson bug had mused, the blade around his arm glinting wickedly in the sunlight. The blade that seemed to be made out of his cloak was wrapped around his arm, the jagged edge pressed against the poor merchant’s neck. “My friend, I suppose you do not know who we are and what we are here for?”
“What the hell?!” the merchant exclaimed, his cries soon being quieted as the third bug’s blade pressed deeper into his neck. The bug with the dark cloak stood silent, his gaze was reserved and undeterred. The red-cloaked bug smiled, his jaws shaping into a frightening, jagged smile as his eyes shone with cold fire.
“Tsk, tsk, no respect or recognition! How rude, don’t you think? After all, that is no way to treat the God of Nightmares.” Nymm stared, his stupid eyes widening. Nobody had ever threatened a merchant before, but from what the tallest bug had said, they were definitely not from the Kingdom.
The God of Nightmares, the King of Nightmares. A hoax, really, was what Nymm had thought before he stayed to spectate the arrival of these new bugs. Now that he thought about it, the pieces seemed to fit together, somewhat. The Nightmare God, or the Nightmare King is what he is most known as was standing directly in front of him, threatening a merchant. His weaponization and cloak seemed to match the few paintings that Nymm had seen of him, but even then, that was mostly from memory since most paintings were hung only in the palace’s walls.
His eyes, however, were what convinced Nymm that this was definitely the Nightmare King.
The tradesman shuddered as he heard the god’s name come from the Nightmare King’s mouth, sweat trickling down his face as the Nightmare King poised a blade directly under his neck, ready to end his life if so needed. The female bug giggled, cackling as she held the small bug who seemed only to be a child. The child whined a few words of protest before wriggling out of her arms and flopping over to the bug with the shadowy cloak. The second bug hissed something to the child as he held him. The child, seemingly undeterred, yelped a few words before the older bug sighed.
“Now, Grimm, take our child back to the tents for me, will you? I would hate to see the child witness such… brutality in the face of a new kingdom.” The Nightmare King smiled coldly, his blade cold and rigid as it pressed against the merchant’s neck. Grimm, who seemed to be the bug in the dark cloak, stood up, murmuring a few words to the child, who protested while Grimm carried him through the crowded marketplace. Nymm narrowed his eyes, looking from the Nightmare King to Grimm, trying to decide whether he should follow Grimm or not. Quickly coming to a conclusion before Grimm was lost in the crowd, Nymm ran after Grimm, hiding behind stalls as he followed him through the narrow streets.
The Nightmare King… obviously, the God of the Nightmare Kingdom as well as the ruler. Grimm… who could he be? A loyal guard to the Nightmare King, perhaps? But if he were a guard, would it not be better to keep him around rather than to send him back to their tents? And who is that female? He did mention that it was ‘their’ child… signifying that it is both the Nightmare King and Grimm’s… Mates? Possible, but unlikely. Shaking his head, Nymm continued to follow Grimm through the twisted roads of Central City. Mates or not, Kings or not, they are foreigners… they must have something good for me to loot.
Nymm followed Grimm and the child for some time, hiding behind bushes and buildings until he reached a deserted area with several glowing tents and two elegant Giraffe Weevils, both having the same masks as Grimm and the Nightmare King. Grimm walked up to the biggest tent, opening the flap and entering with the child, who was still whining.
What is this place? It looks like an edgy circus! Do they lure in children and eat them alive?
Hesitating, Nymm walked up to the tent where Grimm had gone into. The tents seemed… foreboding. But all the while, they seemed tempting as well. Just like how he had first landed his gaze on Grimm and the Nightmare King, Nymm found that he couldn’t look away if he wanted to.
It was surreal.
It’s only my imagination, Nymm thought to himself, his brow furrowing as he lifted open the tent flap. And even if there was something in here that could hurt me, I’m almost twelve years old anyways. I am more than capable of fending for myself. Nymm entered the tent.
The halls were dark, the only illumination inside of the tent being that of torches lodged into the walls with every few steps. The flames flickered coldly, seemingly in a controlled manner as Nymm walked past them cautiously. There was nowhere to go in the tent, only forwards. Holding himself with bated breath, Nymm continued, walking until he got to a bigger room that connected with the corridor he had just passed through. Before going into the room, Nymm carefully listened to determine whether there was another bug present or not. Hearing nothing, he peeked cautiously around the corner of the hall.
Nothing.
Sucking in a deep breath, Nymm warily walked into the room, looking around to see if there was anything that might be worth taking. The room was pretty much empty apart from two torches on either side of the room as well as two curtains. Wherever Grimm and the child have gone, it must have been beyond this room.
Chills ran down Nymm’s back. This place was weird. He scanned the room, eyeing the torches suspiciously as they flickered with hissing flames. Deciding not to stay any longer, Nymm turned around and was about to exit when he heard a voice, harsh and judgemental as it slid through the room, echoing off the walls.
“And what may you being doing here, little bug?” Came the voice, hissing as Nymm froze. Nymm’s eyes were glued to the ground, he daren’t turn back to look. It couldn’t be real. Biting his tongue, Nymm inhaled before whipping around to see where the voice had come from.
The dark-cloaked bug, Grimm, was standing at the other end of the room, eyeing Nymm suspiciously with his narrowed eyes.
“I shall repeat that,” he hissed. “What business do you have here that may concern you, little one? It’s rather rude to enter a tent uninvited. A looter, perhaps? Did your parents send you here to steal from me?” Nymm didn’t answer. He scowled at Grimm, clutching the straps of the accordion that was secured to his back. His gaze was furious but determined, his eyes sparkling with prudence as he looked up to meet Grimm’s eyes.
“I don’t have any folks,” Nymm spat, scowling at Grimm who looked at him curiously. “Nobody sent me here. I’m here myself.” There was a small pause as Grimm observed Nymm before he spoke again.
“How old are you?”
“... Eleven.”
“Rather young to be alone, isn’t it? May I ask where your parents have gone?” Grimm stepped closer. A flash of fear and sadness ran through Nymm, his heart seemingly trying to pound its way out of his chest with how fast it was beating. He froze once again.
“She’s… not around anymore,” Nymm said defensively, glaring at Grimm. “Don’t you insult her, though, she was the best mother in th’ world before she went rogue an‘ disappeared.” Silence once more.
“Would you like to join my Troupe?” Grimm asked, offering his hand out to Nymm who recoiled, taking a step back. Grimm looked at Nymm, his gaze was unwavering and unflinching.
“What?”
“I offer you a position in my Troupe as a musician of some sort, seeing as you have an accordion strapped to your back. You… intrigue me, to say the least. I promise that it’ll be better than living alone in this kingdom full of thieves and murderers, all of whom would do anything to kill you.”
Nymm was hesitant. He looked at Grimm’s hand, thinking hard.
Grimm tilted his head, sensing Nymm’s reluctance. Slowly, Grimm retreated his arm, a small blade forming around his other wrist. Panic flashed through Nymm, his brain seeming to shut down as his legs froze, fear completely overcoming him. He shut his eyes tightly, expecting the blade to come down, but instead there was the clinking noise of a blade cutting through an exoskeleton, except it was not Nymm’s.
“I swear on my blood that I won’t do you any harm.” Nymm opened his eyes to look at Grimm incredulously. Disbelief shone in his eyes, but what Grimm had done was no doubt, a blood oath. Nymm cautiously walked forward to Grimm, hemolymph dripping onto the floor as Grimm held out his arm.
“I… will join,” Nymm said, looking at Grimm with widened eyes as he clasped his hand tightly in Grimm’s. Grimm smiled and held out his other hand, a mask suddenly appearing.
“Take it,” he said quietly as Nymm picked up the mask from Grimm’s other hand. “What is your name, child?”
“Nymm.”
“From now on, you will be known as Brumm, both to separate you from your past and to begin a new future. A new future where you will grow up within the Troupe walls, away from this wretched kingdom of liars and criminals.”
Nymm thought about it for a moment. His mother, what would she have thought if he joined the Troupe?
“Nymm, little one, listen to me,” she had said, hemolymph dripping from her head as both she and Nymm cried, Nymm clutching her tightly as she clasped his hand. “Do whatever th’ hell you can to survive, even if it means throwing your loved ones under the stag, even if you have to cut your way through 1000 brambles just to get a better life. I want you to live it however you want to, I want you to have an actual life. One that was better than mine, at least. Please. Promise me.” Nymm had shaken his head, sobbing as his mother’s strength seemed to suddenly fade away, her hand becoming colder.
“Please,” she whispered, her eyes faltering as the voices drew closer. “Promise me before I die.” Nymm, his voice shaky and wavering, his throat clenched as he tried to force the words out.
“I promise.” He cried, hugging his mother as she smiled, all of her life seeming to fade away now that Nymm had said what she wanted him to.
“Good.” She closed her eyes, Nymm continuing to sob as the voices came closer, and as her heartbeat faded away. Forcing himself to get up, he tore himself away from his mother’s body, stumbling and tripping over his feet as he ran.
He’ll live. If not for his sake, but his mother’s.
Shutting his eyes to block out all the memories, all the pain, all the time that he had spent thinking about his mother, Nymm clutched Grimm’s hand as he placed the mask upon his face. Grimm looked curiously at Nymm, smiling warmly before letting his hand free.
“Welcome to the Troupe, Brumm.”