Chapter Text
“…esteemed benefactor…reveal unto me…”
Against your wishes, you start to wake up, soft words poking at your mind insistently like a fly. You don’t know who this gentle voice belongs to, but they unfortunately don’t leave you alone.
“…if your heart bids it…demonstrate your power…”
A poem about noble lords and lonesome flowers, mirrors and fractured shadows, of the earth swallowing itself up whole; all lovely and terrible things, but you find it hard to appreciate such art when you don’t want to hear about it at all.
“Do not let go of that hand, at all costs.”
A hand? Of who’s? You stretch out and search around you but find nothing else but a wall, much less someone’s hand. You finally open your eyes, but the dark doesn’t change. Eyes shut, eyes open. Eyes shut, eyes open. Shut open shut open shut open shut open, but the nothingness stays regardless. Are you in a Void?
No, the wall you’re running your hands over encompasses you and leaves little room for movement. So, the problem here isn’t you. The lack of light should be caused by this enclosure you’re in. You check the walls again, hoping maybe to find a switch or a string to turn a light on, but nothing, and there seems to be no cracks, holes, or latches of any kind that can release you. The walls don’t budge when you push on them either.
The only thing you get from this inspection is that you’re in a box of some sort. A broom closet perhaps? How’d you end up here? You can’t imagine yourself doing this because you wanted to, so you conclude that someone else must’ve put you in here.
… wh, where…?
You’d like to know that too, but as you’ve noted earlier, there’s no one else in the closet with you to give you an answer.
Earlier…?
Wait, wait, wait—we’re in a what now?
A closet. Well, a maybe-closet. You have no way of confirming your guess, but you also have no reason to believe otherwise, so a closet it is until it isn’t. It wasn’t like you were in a coffin or anything; now that would be a stretch.
You’re taking this way too lightly!
Shouldn’t we be freaking out right now?!
Should you be? You don’t remember something like this happening to you before, so you can’t really form a reaction with any emotional substance right now. Maybe when you’re pushed into a closet for a second time, you’ll better understand how to feel then. A little context would help too.
No no no, you shouldn’t be hoping
this will happen a second time.
You weren’t hoping, just speculating.
However, you’re pulled out of your speculations when the closet suddenly starts to shake.
Oh dear lord.
You doubt one will answer, but you share the sentiment. You brace your hands against the walls on either side of you and plant your feet firmly onto the ground, but you’re still jerked around like a rattle. Thankfully, it stops after a few seconds.
“…uniform before someone spots me…” someone on the other side says. Their voice is high-pitched and nasally, but muffled by the wood separating you and them. It's different from the voice that read the poem earlier, but like before, you don’t recognize this one either. “Urgggh…this lid weighs a ton!”
“Lid?”
“Ngeh!”
!!!
・
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・
“W-w-whaaat?! You ain’t suppose’ ta be ‘wake yet!” The other panics, and you don’t know how but their voice gets even shriller and reminds you of those animated caricatures that would show on the television on Sundays.
YOU IDIOT!
“What? What did I do?” Should you go back to sleep? But you’re not feeling tired, especially now that you’ve got the outsider’s attention. “Should I not be awake?”
You fool! It’s not about if
you’re tired or not—it’s about our safety!
This guy might be dangerous.
Who? The teeny tiny voice?
Yes!
“Yeah, you’re suppose’ ta be dead sleepin’!” They explain, their frustration audible. “You’ve got no idea what I hadda do ta get it this far.” They kick at your maybe-closet, which you don’t appreciate.
“Must be frustrating,” you agree nonetheless. You understand how putting in a lot of effort just to have poor results can be demotivating, though you didn’t whine as much as this person did, but you can’t expect everyone to accept the less-favorable outcomes with dignity as you do.
I…don’t like how you think that’s something to be proud of.
Shouldn’t it be?
…we’ll talk about this later.
“But I’m not gonna give up so easy! You!” The other suddenly exclaims, surprising you. They take a long pause before they start speaking again, but they don’t. You’re about to break the silence when they growl and bark again, “I’M TALKIN’ TO YOU!”
You blink. “Me?”
“Yes, you! Who else?!” In a normal situation, you would’ve become irritated with the arrogant tone this person was talking in, but this wasn’t really a normal situation and you can’t help but get amused. Their silly voice only added to the ludicrosity, and you let out a small chuckle.
The other screeches, taking offense. “Hah?! Are you laughin’ at me, punk?!”
Please, don’t make this any harder for us.
Right, yes, you have to focus on the situation at hand. “No,” you cough, “my throat is just itchy. I would never laugh at an admirable display of determination.”
The person on the other side huffs, but seems to take their words, and continues. “If I’m right, which I always am, you can’t get outta there by yourself, can ya?.”
“Impressive, it’s as you say.”
You think you hear the other purr at the faux flattery. “Of course! Anyways, I can get you outta this thing easy-peasy, no problem, but you’re gonna gimme something in return as payment.”
Oh? That sounded perfect.
And suspicious, I don’t like it.
Turn them down.
You don’t. “What would I give you?”
For the love of—
“Nothin’ much, just your uniform.” What?
SEE?! What did I say?!
You unconsciously cross your arms to cover your body. “You want me to strip?” You hate to admit that you may have been wrong in trying to indulge this guy for your amusement.
“What?! No!” He corrects hastily, “Just the outer robes you’re wearin’s fine, I don’t need nothin’ else.”
And it’s when he says this that you now notice the slightly-added weight on your arms that you don’t remember having. It continues to your shoulders when you check, the fabric feeling soft as velvet. You’re sure you don’t own any jackets made of such material.
We don’t. I don’t like the implications of that…
You save that thought for later. “If you say so.”
“So it’s a deal?”
“Perhaps,” you smile.
“Gimme a yes or a no!”
“I thought you only wanted the robes?”
“No, I mean yes —gah! I’m leaving!”
You stop your teasing with a loud laugh and finally agree, your head going quiet in disapproval. The other person tells you to prepare yourself without telling you how, and you can only cover your arms over your head like a helmet when a rush of heat comes bearing down on you out of nowhere.
You’re being saved by a pyromaniac.
You thankfully aren’t burnt to a crisp, and just as quickly as it came, the heat disappears. Instead, cool air starts to fill up your space, and when you peek from between your arms you see that the door in front of you is entirely gone. Light floods your vision.
“Behold! The power of the Grim the Great!” You look but find no one. “Ain’tcha just tremblin’ in awe of me?” The voice, now squeakier without the wall separating them, comes from below, so you look down and are confronted by a, a…?
Some...thing?
What the hell?
What is that?
What stands in front of you is not a man or woman, boy or girl. It’s not even human, but you can’t entirely classify it as an animal either. It stood on two legs but barely reached up to your knees. Physically (and maybe in personality too, now that you look back), it looked like a cat, with black fur and blue eyes, but what caught your eyes immediately were the blue flames that seemed to erupt out of its ears.
It’s looks like a monster, a very cute one at that.
“Oho?” It— Grim the Great , your memory supplies—raises an eyebrow, giving a smirk that shows off its pointy white canines. “Or are ya paralyzed in fear?” Its tail swishes high in the air, revealing three prongs at the end. Maybe it was a devil; does that mean you’re in hell?
I don’t think its possible
for us to go to hell.
“Yes, you…you can say something like that,” you answer carefully, doing your best to not show any surprise. You remind yourself that you’ve seen weirder things…you think.
The creature smiles wickedly. “Well, I’m feelin’ really nice today, so you don’t gotta watch your back with me.” You trust its words for now and step out of your closest. Well, ‘closet’ was no longer the right term because when you look back you realize you’d been inside a coffin the entire time. Huh, what are the odds—
Didn’t you mention something
like that earlier?
No, you didn't. You can’t remember if you did.
Grim the Great is still speaking, but your attention is instead taken by your surroundings; stone walls rising high above your head and spanning the length of a soccer field, and flame-lit torches mounted on ornate sconces that look like they’ve lived many years. But the strangest of all were all of the other coffins that float around aimlessly in the air, their lids outfitted with a small mirror and keyhole. You’re pretty sure those are not normally included when people purchase them.
Really? The mirror and keyhole on the
coffin is what looks off to you?
Everything is off, but those little additions to a deathbed are just what catches your interest the most; it’s a peculiar choice. But yes, everything about this grand, old room you’ve found yourself in is unknown and strange. There’s no hint of electricity or any other signs of the modern age you’re familiar with. You also have no recollection of this place. Every detail you gather all leads you to the conclusion that, wherever you are, does not belong to your world of before.
The air is not the same either.
It feels…heavier, like a new energy is being
carried throughout it.
“Hey. Hey, you!” The creature slaps your leg with its tiny and soft paws, and you stow away your wonder for now and crouch down to its level. “Didja hear a word I said?” You didn’t, you admit, and Grim the Great huffs out a small puff of smoke irritatedly. “You’re a real piece of work, ain’tcha? I’m telling ya to honor your part of the deal right now, so hand over the robes.”
“Right, I did say that.” You rest on your knees to undo the heavy buckle of the sash that wraps around your waist and shuck the robe off. It’s heavy, and the material looks like it costs a fortune; you don’t have that kind of money, so the robes definitely didn’t belong to you. You feel slightly guilty for giving away someone else’s belongings. “How do I know you won’t harm me after I give this to you?”
The creature scrunches its face, scowling, “Whaddya take me for, a crook?” It grabs at the clothing and you let it. The robes pool to the floor and make it obvious that they’re too big for it to properly wear. “First ya say I’m a pervert, now a con. What else are ya thinkin’, huh?”
“I didn’t call you a pervert, or a con, but your attitude makes it hard not to assume so.” The creature finally slips their arms through the sleeves and secures the buckle. It takes a moment and admires itself the best it can without a mirror and starts smiling to itself, muttering something along the lines of ‘greatest mage in all of history’ .
Mage? So there's magic here…
“Is our deal complete then?” You ask it, but it pays you no mind anymore, too enamored with its new look. You nudge it with the tip of your shoe and it hisses at you. Maybe they are a cat. “Is there anything else you want?”
Grim the Great strokes its chin with a thinking look. “Hmmm, no,” it answers, “you may go now.”
You snort at the pseudo attempt at a command. “I may?” This little creature really is funny.
Alright, let’s just leave now.
I sense nothing good will
come with his presence around.
Awww, come on. Your mood was just improving with the creature’s antics. Grim the Great is surely amusing company, it will definitely help you calm down as you navigate this strange, new world.
Think this through, we don’t know
what this cat-monster is or its intentions.
We could be talking to a criminal
for all we know.
The image of the little kitty in front of you in a black-and-white jumpsuit is hilarious.
I’m being serious!
And you are too...in your own way. You size Grim the Great up, but other than the fire and his tail and the fact that he can talk, it resembled a cat. You can take on a cat in a fight.
It has magic.
Not a big deal, you hope. Yeah, probably won’t be.
“Yeah, unless,” a mischievous smile spreads over the creature’s face, “you wanna become my henchman—”
“Sure.”
“But I won’t—huh?” The smile slips off.
You shuffle closer on your knees, making the creature back up a bit. “I accept, I would be honored to follow you, Grim the Great.” You bow your head low to the ground and put a hand over your heart, a (hopefully) universal gesture of deference. You hold in the laughter bubbling up in your belly.
Come. ON!
This isn’t funny anymore!
You disagree.
The creature is silent, looking to be mulling over your words and trying to find any lie in them. You’re really not lying; until you get a better understanding of where you are and what you should do, you have no issues with serving this monster. And, if its orders start to get out of hand, you can always deal with it later.
“Fine,” it decides, turning away from you and heading to a set of big, wooden doors. “You’d be pretty darn stupid ta refuse me. Follow me, henchman!”
And follow you do. You walk past the dozens of floating coffins that fill the room to the wooden doors, and when you push them open you exit into a long hallway, and Grim the Great leads the way to an unknown destination.
“By the way,” it says after a couple of minutes, “what’s your name? I can’t keep callin’ ya ‘henchman’ the whole time.”
Indeed, what is your name? Your memories are a blur at this point, and you can’t recall what your name is this time around. But since you’re in a new world, you guess a new name is in order. You rack your brain for an idea.
Grim the Great’s short temper comes to mind, and you giggle at its entertaining frustration.
“You,” you mumble, but it doesn’t feel quite right. Yu? Yu-u? Yuu. Yes, that sounds better.
“You?”
“Yes, Y-U-U. Yuu.” You sneak a look at Grim the Great’s face and already see the irritation starting to appear, and you cover your chuckle with a cough. “It’s very confusing, I know, but that’s my name.”
Grim the Great grumbles, “Of course it is…”
Honestly…
I hope you don’t regret this, “Yuu”.
Nonsense. You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt regret before, and you’re not going to start now.