“And that’s how Alice got her boon,” I said. “After that I retrieved the bones and we waited for Grim to arrive.”
“You mean the sack on your hip contains the bones of our fallen?” Astra asked, pointing to my waist.
Ahhhh.
An audible smack echoed through the room as I dragged my hand down my face. “I completely forget. I was supposed to give them to someone but then Adeline came along, and Alice fainted and… Ugh.”
Astra reached over and patted my shoulder before motioning to the sack. I untied it from my belt and handed it over, watching her delicately lay out the contents on the floor.
“Don’t feel too bad, Cain. You’ve been under a lot of pressure. Just be happy that you managed to retrieve them.”
She reached for the crystalized part of the skeleton’s chest, but stopped and got up to retrieve something from inside a drawer. The glove slid past her wrist and she crouched, poking at the edges of the hole with her thumb.
Bone by bone, she meticulously catalogued it all and accurately reassembled the person.
There was a solemn moment, where she rested her hand on their skull and muttered what sounded like a prayer. When she was done, she produced a black crystal from her sleeve and placed between the sockets.
"Ek kalla til myrkr hjarta, hlífa þú innan rót þinna."
A low ding chimed throughout the room. I recognized the words, the syllables scratching me ears as mana dripped from her hand and into the crystal. From there a new glow rose from the stone floor as black roots emerged and wrapped the body, cloak and all.
As the incantation settled she gently carried the mummified corpse toward the door and grabbed a small bell along the way. It was made of brass, barely longer than my index finger and about thrice as wide.
She rang once, a strangely shrill tune.
“What’s that? And what are those crystals?” I asked.
“The bell is connected to another set that’ll alert someone to come here. And they’re not crystals. Its actually a piece of shell of a seed.”
“They looks like they’re made of glass.”
“Special little things. They’re actually collected from the forest you visited. The one during your first hunt.”
“Didn’t see anything like them,” I admitted. “But it was pretty dark.”
She chuckled and weaved through the shelves before stopping next to the metal door.
“Well they come from a tree deep inside the one of the elder glades. Much like anything from the ages, its believed–atleast from what I could scrounge up: is that the tree is thousands upon thousands of years old. More than an age. Its mana it produces so thick it turns its seeds crystalline and imprints part of its magic.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Grim didn’t need a seed to conjure the roots.”
“Really? Another note to be added then.”
As she stood straight, someone knocked on the door and Adeline used her chains to pull it open. A young woman, really young, making even me look older in comparison stood at the door, fist still raised.
Upon seeing Astra she glanced down, as if scared. Strangely enough I didn’t have any memories of her. She looked to be the teenagers age, but still an unfamiliar face.
“You needed assistance?” she mumbled.
Astra’s chains stilled and her posture turned stiff as a subtle yellow grazed her irises. “This is a member of our fallen. Take them to Maro and she’ll handle the rest.”
Upon hearing that the package to be delivered was a Grimm’s corpse, the girl regained some courage. She took the body with both arms and nodded before making a swift retreat down the hall.
“I thought Alice was one of the last people to be turned into a Grimm. She looks really young,” I commented as I followed Astra back to the alcove.
She didn’t answer at first, instead going to check on Alice and feel her pulse before resettling into her chair. For a good while the yellow kept threatening to overtake her eye-color before she leaned back.
With deliberately slow sips of a freshly poured cup, she finally answered. “That was the case. Was being the operative word.”
“What happened? So she is new then?”
“Yes. Around three days into your hunt, the Prime ordered the initiation rite be started again. Willow is part of that first batch,” she growled, an undercurrent of frustration rumbling through.
“Oh. I take it you’re not happy?”
The teacup cracked, a single chip breaking against the table.
“No, I’m not. But it is outside my control.”
It sounded like it took physical effort for her to admit that, but the teacup in her hand remained thankfully whole.
I wasn’t too surprised at the new Grimms. I doubted Grim ever cared whether or not we lived or failed. If what the others said was true, we’d need the numbers. At least enough to get through the Blood Harvest.
While we waited for Alice to eventually stir, I showed Astra the book and even etched down some of the images I remembered from the mural. The drawings were crude, but it was enough for her to grab a seperate sheet of vellum and improve upon them with my direction.
After vividly describing the witch’s mural and statue along with Nameless’ words, Astra stopped and began tapping the table.
“I despise this,” she growled.
“About what?”
“That for all the knowledge this place holds, for the vast history of our kind among several worlds; we still lack information. I’ve never heard of this city ruled by a Keeper. Nor was there any mention of him and some witch wearing our cloaks. But the Prime is an ancient being so far outside mortal scope that any records could have crumbled to dust! Uugh!”
She calmed and chugged the tea. “Apologies Cain, its not your fault.”
“It’s okay. I kinda get it.”
The look she gave me was one I didn’t recognize but it reminded me pity, or somewhere between that and sadness.
It was uncomfortable.
I glanced to the book and tapped its front. No reaction. Mana flowed into my hand and I pictured the barrier, letting the small portal pull at the corner. The runes flashed, and I caught them this tight before the magic crushed my incantation.
My arm throbbed and I cradled it in my lap. “Alice said they reminded her of a defensive enchantment.”
“I agree.” She picked up the book and tapped it with her chains. “I didn’t even recognize half the runes.”
“Is that weird?”
“Very” she stated.
She ran a gamut of tests, even going so far as to try casting a fireball at the cover but it remained untouched. Instrument after instrument failed to achieve different results and an hour later Astra had switched from tapping the table to lightly pounding it in frustration.
“Its impossible. The enchantments shouldn’t have that many runes.” She slammed at it again with her chain eliciting a wince but conjuring the runes from the golden cover. Before they faded she pointed to them. “They’re different.”
“Okay?”
“They’re different every time. That’s the nineteenth test, and none of them are the same. No patterns, no recognizeable batch of them per rotation.”
As time dragged, Astra eventually calmed but seemed quicker to agitate. At one point the yellow stayed for several minutes till she closed her eyes and rested. When my stomach made itself known I had a bag of snacks thrown my way while she went to work sketching the runes onto paper and storing the growing pile in the corner.