Chapter Three: A Gentle Death
It was dark; the waters stretched endlessly about him in all directions, a chilling cold which clamped icy fingers down upon his bones. The ebb and flow of the water pulled him deeper; pushed him down, further and further into the dark until the cold became warmth, and his fear became patience.
It was familiar; this sensation, this dark world; it was like home.
His eyes blinked open, Grimm staring dumbfounded into the night, a dull roar meeting his ears, the air hanging humid and close a trickling fear working its’ way along his spine. His world was lit by a dull red flame, a fire crackling within a large stone basin, waves of heat rolling out to strike his side the young boy slowly rising to his feet, his skin tingling the cold still clinging to his bones melting away leaving him numb but steady as he stood naked but for a large tartan blanket draped about his shoulders printed in shades of blue and white. Grimm was still stuck staring into the flames, watching as they flickered and danced through the night casting shadows high about the room, revealing impressions of tables and chairs, benches and tools; a number of holes breaching the far wall letting in a trickle of moonlight like liquid silver upon the cold stone floor. Grimm sneezed, his memories slowly bubbling up about him rising up to breach the surface of his mind one by one and disjointed entirely out of order. He stood there enveloped in the warmth of the fire as slowly he pieced together his memories of the last day.
The Grocer had knocked him out...
He’d been knocked unconscious by a grocer. That was a new experience; of course most of what happened yesterday felt new to him. It was all so confusing. Had he done something wrong? Grimm sighed he’d seen things like this happen a thousand times before but experiencing them first hand – he was frightened.
Now he was stood in a dark room in front of a fire wrapped in a blanket but otherwise nude. Was he supposed to consider this a positive or a negative? He let out a short sigh before pulling at the blanket throwing it up over his shoulder and proceeding to wrap it diagonally across his torso leaving him more or less completely covered but for an arm his face and his little bare feet wiggling on the floor. He should probably look into getting shoes; shoes were good because his feet were cold and the floor was hard. Of course first he’d have to get socks; or he could skip straight to sandals and a midlife crisis. Grimm froze, a jolt running through his body, an electric charge rushing through his nervous system as a sharp creak resounded over the roaring of the fire. Grimm turned abruptly looking up catching the silhouette of a door outlined in pale yellow light sitting before him raised maybe a meter off the ground, calling him on. The boy stepped forwards, probing through the shadows with the tip of his foot; he had no idea where he was or who had brought him here but he knew being aware and prepared beat being ignorant no matter how terrible the truth really was. Grimm crept forwards his vision slowly acclimating to the darkness and the low dim glare of the fire as he dodged his way through the room until he reached the very edge of the wind glowing circle cast by the fire standing alone in a place where light could not go. Grimm swallowed hard feeling in front of him with an open palm his fingers brushing up against an iron railing before tracing the metal rod down to its’ roots and finding a small flight of stairs leading up towards the door.
He made his way slowly up the stairs clutching at the iron rail; with what little quiet he could muster; unable to stop his bare feet from slapping down onto the cold stone slabs the sound resounding through the stagnant air, the heat of the furnace against his back pushing him forwards until he stood before the half closed door. Grimm reached out taking the handle in hand slowly easing the door open with an agonising groan, pushing forwards into the light.
Grimm stepped out, chilled feet stepping onto roof floorboards which creaked beneath his meagre weight, just as loud if not louder than the door. The room was large and brightly lit a series of what looked like light bulbs shaped like slender glass teardrops mounted on a thick copper pipe which wound its’ way across the roof. The light bulbs gave off a strange mix of colours and shades which warped and changed contained by the glass bulbs, dancing like flames but burning down. The copper pipe ran towards what looked like some kind of small brass furnace sitting just beside a slightly larger fireplace cut into the thick granite walls of the room a blackened cauldron slowly bubbling above the fire giving off a soft sweat smell into the chilly air, a young man sitting at a nearby table just a few steps away, wrapped in a warm cloak and a thick scarf a shock of blonde hair exploding outwards in a wild mess.
Grimm stood stock still eyes locked upon the young man, neither of the man willing to move an inch, the stranger meeting his gaze mouth hanging half open. The blonde man moved slowly reaching down to grasp something lying on the table before slowly lifting up a small wooden bowl and shooting Grimm a cautious grin “Do you want some soup?”
“Yes.” Grimm gave his answer with certainty, his stomach affirming his response with a loud guttural chorus. After all he was hungry and what was the worst that could happen?
“It’s lamb and potato, an old family recipe; I can’t say it’s any good but it’s all I have at the moment.” The young man murmured, rising from his chair and stepping back towards a row of cupboards set high against the nearby wall. Grimm edged forwards towards the table crossing the room before pulling back a chair and sitting down. The stranger grabbing a clean small wooden bowl and a large soup spoon placing both utensils down onto the table with a clack before grabbing a ladle and pouring out a portion of soup pushing the bowl forwards in Grimm’s direction and retaking his seat at the table. The boy made a tentative grab for the bowl pulling it in close and lifting the spoon up to his lips, a lump of potato lying in the centre of the broth Grimm scrutinising the lump of vegetable matter for a long moment before glancing back up to the man. “Well eat.” The stranger encouraged Grimm scoffing down his first bite before rushing to shovel the rest of the meal down his gullet.
The potato was hard and tasted a little undercooked; the soup being somewhat bitter and somewhat salty a strange array of herbs and spices having been tossed haphazardly into the mix, but it was warm and it was nice. The meal sat well it sat inside his stomach. It was his first real meal in this new world; with his new body... It was good.
Grimm finished the bowl in a matter of moments before dropping the spoon down and letting out a long droning sigh, the blond man letting out a small chuckle. “You’re welcome.” He muttered retaking his seat at the table his arms folded over his chest.
“Ah, thank you” Grimm rushed to reply giving a short bow of his head the stranger raising an eyebrow before giving a low snort;
“a street rat with manners, well that is a first.
“My name is Greiz Icon, and this is my home. I pulled you out of the Aso river maybe three-hours ago; now Grimm why don’t you explain to me exactly how you ended up that river.” The boy froze up Greiz shooting him a steady glare. Grimm sat frozen his fingers digging into the table as he met the young man’s gaze; dark blue eyes fixing him in place with a measured stare.
“How do you know my name?” Grimm blurted out his question Greiz lifting an eye brow leaning back into his chair.
“Oh, I just called up your status window while you were unconscious; sorry about that – now could you please answer my question; how did you end up in that river. I’m not going to hurt you I just want to understand why it is I had to get myself wet to drag your sorry arse out.”
“I don’t know.” Grimm muttered eyes turned down. It was an honest response he still wasn’t entirely clear what the man was talking about. He supposed a status window was that weird floaty thing he’d seen when he first arrived in this world, as for that thing about the river he didn’t have the slightest clue.
“Was it one of the street gangs or did someone, did you someone else try to push you into the water, or did you just trip over, tell me.”
“I don’t remember.” Grimm muttered looking up at the young man
Greiz let out a low sigh at his response, reaching up to massage his temples before letting out a loose smile; “then what is the last thing you do remember?”
“I was knocked unconscious by a grocer.” Grimm recalled giving a light nod Greiz letting out a spluttering cough.
“W... What are you on about! Did you steal from him or something?”
“I don’t think so... I’m not too sure.”
“How can you not be sure? Either you did or you didn’t” Grimm tilted his head at the man’s question before giving a non-committal shrug glancing off towards the fireplace.
“What’s the difference between buying something and stealing, I can’t really remember that either”
A dumb quiet settled over the room, Greiz pinching the bridge of his nose; a mix of frustration rising up within his gut. “The difference is, when you buy something you give the other person money; when you steal something you take it without asking.”
Hmm, so that was how it was supposed to work. Grimm nodded to himself; that mean those other children from the other day had actually been stealing; which also meant he’d been stealing to, but he did end up paying the man later and he still didn’t get his apple so did that mean the man was stealing from him? Ugh... Everything just seemed to be getting more and more confusing, a low growl silencing that line of thought before Grimm could become any more confused than he already was.
The young boy grasped his bowl holding it up in Greiz’s direction; “can I have some more please?
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“Here we go lads, three large tankards and two Wyrm pot pies!” a large wooden plate clattering down onto the table top, Leo letting out a raucous laugh seizing one of the ale mugs the heavy set waitress letting out a loud snort accompanied by a wide grin.
“Ah Ilna you’re a saint!” Leo roared, the off duty guard pulling a large knife from his belt and cutting a slice out of one of the pies. “But you really should be serving this little delicacy all year round; heaven knows you’d make a bundle.” The woman gave a click of the tongue before shaking her head
“Sorry I’m ‘Fraid not; It’s only cause of the dragon fair we get Wyrms in these parts at all; it’s too expensive to get it shipped in you know that.” She gave a helpless little shrug, the bars patrons letting out a round of booing a heavy yell striking out from the nearby kitchen followed by a round of laughter from the customers.
“Ah nothing like good food in dark times eh gents?” an old man laughed leaning forwards over the table Leo taking a large bite out of his pie his gaze fixed on the stranger.
“Hey Helmut; this your’ friend?” Odas questioned, the butcher rubbing at the layer of stubble clinging to his bony face turning to face the old item merchant who glanced up at the old hooded man.
“Nah, don’t see why it matters he paid his part of the fair so let him drink and eat if he wants to; us old folk always appreciate the company.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“That we do.” The stranger laughed, “My names Isdia Dracul, it’s a pleasure.”
“Dracula?” Odas questioned the young man squinting peering forwards into the man’s drawn hood.
“Ha, no; Dracul not Dracula I’m no vampire I assure you; I can’t stand those pale aristocratic types.”
“What did you mean about dark times though?” Leo interrupted taking a sip out of his mug the old man’s eyes brightening beneath his hood as he leaned forwards over the table tugging the thick piece of fabric aside.
“I mean the rumours of course lad; haven’t you heard?”
“If you’re talking about that noble who kicked the bucket yesterday I say good riddance!” Helmut laughed raising his mug, Wilnas the grocer raising his mug in agreement, half a dozen other customers letting out a cry of agreement.
“No not that.” The old man sighed with a sad shake of the head, “One noble doesn’t really matter all that much but if you listen to the rumours hanging outside the adventurer’s guild you’d find adventurer’s aren’t actually adventuring anymore, yesterday over a dozen different adventurer’s died permanently and a couple other teams have gone missing, they were all on different quests; some people are saying that some kind of monster is lurking outside of the city but that aint it in my opinion.”
“Oh yeah old man” Leo snorted the guard leaning back in his chair; “then what do you say it is then?”
“True Death, I think everything’s changed, the world’s finally had enough of us going about our lives without fear, killing and taking and pillaging as we please without reason or consequence; I think Death has finally found us. So yes these are dark times my young friends the likes of which I haven’t seen for Five-hundred years since the last War of Horrors!” The old man snickered bending low over the table. Wilnas let out a snort rising to his feet.
“You’re crazy you old bastard!”
“Is that so you young fool?” the man returned glancing up in the grocer’s direction. Wilnas stopped Leo slamming his mug down into the table.
“I think it’s about time you left friend.
Isdia turned around staring Leo down, his eyes a faded shade of purple, as the old man swung his arm forwards grabbing his mug of ale and downing the beverage in a single gulp before rising on creaking bones to his feet. “I suppose it is. I’ll be seeing you gents sometime soon then; good evening.” The old man gave a ceremonial bow, momentary stumbling sideways to crash into a table before shuffling his way in the direction of the door.
“Crazy old codger” Helmut muttered grabbing a slice of pie.
“Like you can say anything; you’re turnin’ one-hundred-n-one this year ain’t ya?” Odas snorted.
“Yeah well I aint quite hit five hundred yet.”
“Oh, you’d want to be careful from now on Leo then; if you die now you’ll be dead for good.” Wilnas snorted bringing a heavy palm down across his shoulder.
“All the adventurer deaths are probably just ‘cause of some new monster; of course that might mean we’ll have to go out and fight it if the adventurer’s aren’t goin’ to go.” A stiff silence fell across the table, the others letting out low sighs.
“Should have kicked the daft fool away the second he showed up.” Helmut spat taking down another swig.
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There was a low clatter the bowl falling from the young boys hand Grimm finishing his third helping lying his head down across his arms eyes half closed Greiz letting out a low sigh grabbing the child’s bowl before spinning around and tossing it in the direction of the sink. He wasn’t exactly sure what to think at the moment; he couldn’t quite tell if the boy was messing with him or seriously just that oblivious.
Well if it was an act it was a good one. Grimm gave him a small smile raising up his head for a brief moment a dark chill rushing up the young man’s spine. Greiz took a deep breath, his hand grasping at his shirt as he shook the sensation out of his system a heavy flush rushing up into his cheeks. The boy probably had some kind of magical disability it wouldn’t be too uncommon considering his alignment and it would be just another reason why no one would be willing to take him in as a child.
Grimm was certainly unnerving, it was hard to describe; but if almost felt like he was looking into you, like he could see everything you are or ever could be of course that was all down to his none human blood. His Iris’ were just slightly too large, and it may have been hard to tell because his eyes seemed to constantly droop down but they were black a hint of colour resting inside his eyes changing with the light into shades of red and blue and purple; the pupil outlined by a thin white circle which stood out abnormally bright within his gaze. Otherwise Grimm seemed perfectly normal is a little slow and as to what the ‘Other’ meant in his status window Greiz was inclined to think some kind of undead – well as long as he didn’t start rotting over night it wasn’t like he gave a damn.
“Well, now that you’ve eaten your fill, why don’t we move on?” Greiz sighed changing the subject, Grimm perking his head up at the shift in tone. “So I’m guessing the Grocer pushed you into the river, after you ‘accidentally’ stole from right?” Grimm nodded, “then what about before that, where are you staying, which gang are you in?”
The boy tilted his head at the question holding his chin in one hand and leaning forwards over the table pushing away the sleep which had clouded his eyes. Greiz was getting the creeping suspicion that this wasn’t an act at all. The child continued to struggle attempting to drag something up from the deep depths of his memory; of course if this wasn’t an act that just begged an even more baffling question; how in the hell had the kid survived this long? “I have no idea what you’re talking about I’m not a part of any gang.” Greiz stated turning his gaze back on Grimm the young boy giving a firm shake of the head. The Blacksmith let out a short snort – there was no way Grimm had gotten through the last ten years of his life without someone holding his hand.
“You do understand what a gang is right?”
“Yeah, an organised crime syndicate which usually practices in extortion, gang violence, bribery, murder and other heinous acts most usually against the law often structured around-.”
“Not that kind of gang you blockhead” Greiz moaned slamming his palm down into the table; I’m talking about child gangs” He wasn’t sure where on earth the boy had learnt to talk like that and frankly he didn’t want to know. Greiz took a deep breath brushing aside the storm of a headache slowly brewing behind his eyes. “I mean your’ friends who are your’ friends.”
“I don’t have any.” The response was sudden, simple and matter of fact carrying the impact of rifle fire. Greiz was stunned for a moment lifting up his head to meet the boy eye to eye, and something about his gaze enticed belief.
“And no one’s been taking care of you?”
“I don’t think so... Actually there is something.” Grimm paused before giving Greiz a broad grin. “Last night I collapsed in an alleyway but before I could freeze to death someone took me and put me a large wooden crate full of hay so I’m still alive.”
It seemed things were going off topic again.
“What about family?” the boy shook his head Greiz letting out a low sigh. What was the point of this in the first place? It wasn’t like he could help the kid.
“No, I don’t have any family.” He figured as much.
Greiz rose from his seat slowly stretching his arms back and letting out a low yawn, exhaustion hitting him like a leaden weight. “You can stay here for tonight and in the morning when your’ clothes have dried I’ll take you to the temple. If you tell them your’ circumstances they’ll find work for you, It’ll be hard; harder than anything you’ve been through so far but unless you plan on freezing to death night after night it’s your’ best option. So which temple is your’ respawn point?”
“Respawn point?” Great, Greiz let out a low groan as he was hit with the sudden realisation he had just stepped onto a landmine.
“Don’t you remember the place you respawn when you die; the temple you were born at, the orphanage where you grew up?” Something was really messed up with this boy.
“I don’t remember anything before last night...” Of course he didn’t, the blacksmith let out a creaky laugh before burying his face into the palms of his hands.
“Well good night then.” Grimm yawned, an agonising creaking filling the room Greiz casting his gaze up to face the young boy as he struggled with the heavy oak door to forge.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to bed like you said, It’s warm in front of the fire.”
“What? No, I have work to do tonight, so I’ll be down in my forge until morning! You can use my bed as long as you’re able to sleep through the noise”
“A real bed?” Gods this kid was killing him.
“Yes a real gods damn bed, now move it you little gutter snipe.” Greiz jabbed his finger in the direction of a smaller wooden door sitting at the far end of the room opposite the forge, Grimm looking up to him for a moment before making a tentative approach. The boy reached out for the door handle, crossing the open floor, before slowly peering into the room the hinges turning without so much as a peep, Greiz making his way over to the generator switching off his houselights; he didn’t want to burn through more mana crystals than necessary.
“That’s the bed right?” Grimm questioned pointing a finger into the darkened room. Greiz leaned in slowly blinking through the shadows before giving the child a nod. The boy made his way forwards tiptoeing through the dark the floorboards whispering beneath his meagre weight before dropping down onto the edge of Greiz’s bed with a grin. The blacksmith did suppose his bed was kind of fancy; he’d brought it down from the third-ring after he’d moved into the slums; it had four large wooden posts, each engraved with the head of a dwarf, the mattress being a linen covering over a set of thick folded sheets with owl down pillows. It was his one real luxury and he was about to just hand it over to some filthy little tramp he really was a saint among men. “It’s warm.” Grimm laughed bouncing slightly before falling backwards onto the blanket.
“That it is...” Greiz sighed, a small smile touching at the corners of his lips, his fists clenching within his pockets
“Hey Grim;” Greiz took in a deep breath stepping just into the doorway, his hands pressed a slight nagging voice whispering in the back of his head as the words forced themselves out between his lips. “You know, I’ve been pretty busy with my work lately I’ve got a large order from the military to finish right now.” Gods no, what the hell was he saying; he had to stop; now was the time to cut and run! “When I’m finished with this nonsense I suppose I’ll be needing some help around the forge so what would you say to becoming my apprentice.” Ah... Greiz could feel a heavy weight lift up off of his shoulders, despite the sudden revelation he was being a complete and utter fool.
“Sure.” Grimm nodded shuffling about in bed, pulling the blankets up until they reached his neck, Greiz letting out a low sigh.
“Then you’ll start tomorrow.”
“Uh... wait!” Grimm called, Greiz pausing as he turned in the doorway glancing back into the darkened. “What’s an apprentice?”
Somehow he did not expect anything less.
Greiz rolled his eyes slamming the door shoot a long exasperated yawn rattling his chest. There was no use in prolonging it any longer it was about time he got to work.
He could only make so many excuses to avoid his job and unfortunately he’d just ran out. He’d have to start by engraving the runes on the breast plates. It had been a while since he’d last done any intricate rune work, but this would make a nice change of pace; that was certainly one thing he missed about the academy. He hadn’t had a good challenge in a while. A small grin broke out at the corners of his lips slowly warring its’ way across his face as he pulled the door to the forge aside, taking in a deep breath before making his way down towards the table and grabbing a large copper lamp he had laid out amidst his reorganised papers. Whenever Aria decided to pay him a visit it always gave him a good excuse to reorganise the forge; keeping everything neat and tidy wasn’t exactly one of his specialities no matter how hard Alafort, his father; had tried to drill it into him.
Greiz snorted twisting a small brass dial at the bottom of the lamp a small flame blooming to life at the lanterns lip, casting a warm glow about the room the young man making his way deeper into the room stopping short just before a large oaken door. The door had been reinforced with iron bands, thick heavy bolts securing them in place driven through the wood with dreadful force, a lead lining covering its’ edges and a large cog taking the place of both handle and lock, connected to a large mechanism stretching across both door and well . Greiz reached forwards grasping the handles of the wheel turning the gear to his left with all the force his arms could muster the heavy rasp of the iron bars keeping the door in place creaking through the night until a heavy clang split the air the door hanging open, the light from his lantern spilling into the room.