《Death's End》 Prologue Prologue ¡°I¡¯m sorry...¡±The words came from nowhere and from nothing, they echoed through all creation, all of it¡¯s¡¯ darkness and all of it¡¯s¡¯ silence.¡°The last star died... But I suppose you know that. Of course you¡¯d know that... The planets have turned to dust, and the last embers of life have burnt to nothing. ¡°The other primordial beings have left. I¡¯m sorry but I think I¡¯ll have to go too. This has been a long time coming, but do you remember when I made you, do you remember when everything was bright and new and full of endless possibilities¡± God spoke quietly, his voice hushed, as reality closed in around them, growing smaller and tighter; constrincting them. All light and all energy converging on a single pointand vanishing into nothingness. ¡°First I made Space, then I made Time, I made Light, I made Life and together we scattered planets across the vastness... But after that nothing changed, nothing could. We could keep creating all we liked, but it didn¡¯t mean anything, it didn¡¯t change anything. So then I made you.¡± God laughed, tears slowly streaking their way down his cheeks worn by time and age. ¡°I hope someday you¡¯ll find a way to join us. I¡¯ve made another world, one beyond all of this, and really I am sorry, I¡¯m sorry I never did realise what creating you would mean.¡± He remained silent for a long time, or rather for no time at all; what time was left was dying too it seemed. Everything was dying, from the moment it was born life was one long slow inevitable march towards death. ¡°I won¡¯t ask you forgive me, but I want you to know: it was glorious. The second I made you everything changed, true enough we could no longer bring something new into this world, but we were able to watch this thing we had given our life to change and grow, I doubt you appreciate that, seeing as how you have only ever experienced the worst our, but I thank you all the same and I have one request. Please I¡¯d like you to listen to me one last time; will you?¡± God spoke calmly, the silence dragging on, the last remnants of light and time slowly beginning to fall away, as they stood there face to face, surrounded by the dying of eternity. ¡°I will.¡± Death spoke, raising his head upwards, God forcing out a weak smile, slowly wiping away the tears on the back of his hand. ¡°That¡¯s good... Please, just please; don¡¯t give up. What you are about to experience is...¡± God stopped, he paused, stuttering, his very existence fragile and falling away time skipping and hopping forwards like a broken record. ¡°Please, forgive the others for... Keep hope! Old friend... I''m sorry¡± and that was it. God was gone from the world, and now all that was left was to wait. God had been wrong in one regard; Death had seen worlds bloom and fade, he had seen stars born, he had seen empire rise, and civilisations crumble into dust. Every wonder, every horror, every dream, he¡¯d seen forgotten them all. In the end creation left a bitter taste in his mouth but he couldn''t deny it; he loved it all the same. But there was one thing he valued above all the others and that was life. The primordial herself had been rude and crude and ocasionally brilliant of course, but it was the people, the things they would build the lives they would live and the deaths they would die, all of it was so hopeful, or maybe just stubborn. But that was good if life wasn¡¯t stubborn then all this would have happened a very long time ago. All that was left was to sit back and watch as reality fell and he was sure it was going to be quite the show. Light streamed through the darkness, all colours and all shades hurtling through the void, they spun and turned, like threads, crossing and winding; drawing in, touching him and vanishing forever. From them flew balls of light, bright and beautiful, taking up their places in the sky, slowly growing into new suns, new stars; each one pulled in closer and tighter everything going faster and faster, time itself falling out of sync. Moments paused for eons, while decades flew by in the blinking of an eye, the lights turned and grew, brighter and brighter, drawing in closer and closer and drowning out the dark. All the colours mingled joining until at last Death found he stood alone in a field of white. He stood in a void clear and pristine, white as the driven snow, a place without time, without space, without light and without God, and now if he would just close his eyes it would all be over. If he closed his eyes now then everything would end perhaps it was a curtesy reality waited on him to pull the curtains closed.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. It was a strange thing; all of creation innately feared dying, feared him, the idea that someday they would just blip out of existence. He¡¯d never felt that, he¡¯d never feared dying, he¡¯d feared anything, but this, this terrified him. The idea he would go on forever, that he would never die, and that nothing would ever change; if there was something worse than death it was this: it was the loneliness and the despair. All he could do was hold on, keep hope, wait and blink... It hurt! Darkness spilled over all and rushing in a flood, which picked him up and carried him along and it hurt. It shouldn''t have hurt but it did it hurt! He could feel, even if he knew what pain was he''d never felt it before he''d never felt anything, he was Death and he could feel it; he was dying. It hurt! It hurt! It hurt, he could feel it, over and over again, flames running through his body, down into his bones as he drowned beneath the ocean of night. He was ripped apart and stitched back together, cell by cell and atom by atom, over and over and over again. For the first time he felt pain, he felt it grasp about his neck and squeeze it tight, he felt it burn in his veins, he felt so much too much, he felt it grow tighter and tighter, until at last he could breathe no more, until he could move no more, and he falling ever deep into the black water, his eyes shut tight, his teeth grit; reality quivering about him as slowly he opened his eyes once more and stared up into a steel grey sky. He stared up into clouds, which poured down rain in heavy sheets, striking against face and soaking into his clothes icey against his skin... Skin, he had skin? Death moved slowly stretching his arm upwards towards the vague silhoute of the sun obscured in the sky, eyes opened wide. A hand, his hand; it was a human hand, he knew that much: humans were a short lived race, ingenious inventors who had sailed the stars in their prime and struck fear and wonder into the hearts of all they met. But why a human hand? Why was he human?. Death clenched his fist, before letting it go slowly trailing his thingers it through rain laden air, as he rose slowly to his feet, unsteady and unsure. He''d seen races across the length and breadth of creation stand and walk but now he was forced to do it himself he stumbled. He tripped sidways collapsing against a nearby wall, his gaze slowly drifting about the strange place in which he had found himself, exhaustion weighing heavy on his head. A sharp ringing touched his ears, cutting through rush of water a wide screen appearing before him floating in the air a single simple message reading out
Welcome to the World of Alve
Welcome to the world of Alve, a land of magic and mystery, a place where you can learn new trades, new skills and new abilities, where you can live the rest of your days. Here lies adventure, discovery; innovation, struggle and strife, here you will find wonders beyond your¡¯ wildest dreams and horrors straight out of your darkest nightmares. You have been summoned to the city of Gelfrick and officially recognised as one of it¡¯s¡¯ citizens. Your name is Grimm Age: 11 Race: Human/Other Affinity: Death Skill trees: None We wish you the best on your journeys stay strong and believe in hope
Huh... Maybe he''d done it? Maybe this was Gods'' new world, but if that were true wouldn''t the cycle just start all over again? Reality would age and break apart and in the end everything would return to nothing, he''d ruin this world as well. But this time he was human wasn''t he, if we¡¯re going to become any race it was somewhat fitting that he''d become human wasn''t it. But what was this window about? Death reached forwards, through perhaps it was better to start calling himself Grimm now... Grimm reached forwards laying his palm against the floating sign before him, his hand passing clear through the screen. He didn''t understand it; maybe the laws of reality had changed here? Where were the other immortals anyway, the least they could do was greet their younger brother. Oh maybe they didn''t know he was here... Ugh, he felt strange. Grimm stepped forwards his body shaking as he fell lying in the street, in the alley, his gaze fixed on the road dark silhouettes slowly passing by before him, though none would look at him, none would acknowledge him. Maybe he was dreaming... Maybe this was all a dream, maybe... Everything went black. Chapter One: Life will Fall Chapter One: Life will Fall The city of Gelfric sat at the foot of the Brein Mountains, a land of narrow valleys and high stone walls; ancient woods steeped in pale mist and chasms reaching down into the depths of the earth. What lay within remained unknown, its¡¯ paths un-trodden, only the greatest of adventurers would ever dare step foot in that god forsaken realm, and so the city became a haven for their kind. It was the farthest edge of Calbrian Empire; the next frontier into lands and dangers unknown, it was a place filled with possibility, mystery, wonder and death... Dawn peeked up over the cities walls, daylight sweeping in, rushing across the winding streets and close packed houses, skirting across the cobbles and lying still, cramped and alone in the allies of the city, a stiff breeze blowing in carrying with it a touch of cold to chill the bones. Grimm stirred a soft bolt of sunlight striking him clean across the face, his eyes opening dreary; the colour darkest night peering forwards into the dim light of the new day. The young man took in a deep breath, his chest seizing up a moment later a violent coughing fit rocking his body forwards, his arms reaching up grasping at his collar; his shirt damp against icy skin. His skin was cold to the touch, like that of a corpse a painful ache resounding with each new movement. But he was alive, and that itself was strange enough; he could remember it, he remembered the world dying, he was death and it seemed somewhat contradictory for him to be alive. The boy let out a low groan slowly pushing himself upwards, a sudden numbness striking up through his limbs, his head lolling sideways and striking the edge of a wooden crate. Grimm let out a startled cry his head bouncing back upwards as he reached his arms up to grasp at the impact site; a dull throbbing blooming in his cranium. He wasn¡¯t used to this body yet, it felt weird; it was hard to move in, and it was difficult trying to think as well. He could already feel it; his memories were slowly slipping away, growing dim and dying too much for his body to handle, floating upwards into oblivion. One by one they vanished, his memory, his history himself... Ugh; he felt sick. Grimm rose suddenly, his legs unsteady, stumbling forwards and collapsing against the wall of the alley, a wave of nausea rising from the very pit of his his stomach, something forcing its¡¯ way up and out. But nothing came out, no matter how much he tried to push; he body convulsing under the strain. His fingers dug into the wall, clasping at the stone work as he continued to dry heave, before slowly he lowered himself down to sit; his back rested against the wall the pain receding slow leaving him with only a vague sensation of confusion, revulsion and apathy. It was so strange; pain, temperature, pressure, light, time, mortality; they were different now. They meant something else; they all seemed so much more important and so much more terrifying than he had ever thought of them before. He let out a low sigh slowly slumping down against the wall, gazing towards the wooden crate he had woken up in. The box had been turned on its¡¯ side the bottom filled with hay; a layer of ice covering the floor beneath. Grimm swallowed hard. Someone had probably put him inside the box after they¡¯d found him asleep in the alleyway, otherwise he probably would have died last night when the cold hit. He was well aware of what it would take to kill a normal human body, and sleeping out in the rain on a night as cold as that was certainly one way to do it. A low growl rose up from below him, Grimm looking down to place a hand upon his stomach; he was hungry ¨C really hungry. He¡¯d never eaten anything before had he; it sounded like fun, he wanted to eat as much food as he could, not that he had any money... Maybe he could get a job? No, that wouldn¡¯t work no body hired elven year olds and it wouldn¡¯t do him any good to tell them he was a primordial being who survived the end of reality; life currently seemed like much more of a hassle than he thought it would be. Huh was this what they called an existential crisis... Nah probably not. His stomach roared its¡¯ indignation the young boy rising on shaky feet and hobbling out in the direction of the street using his arm to brace himself against a nearby wall. If he started walking he was certain it¡¯d start to warm him up; for now he¡¯d learn to walk, and then maybe he could beg; or find some other way to support himself he was certain everything would work itself out in time. Oh that was a thought; he¡¯d have to find some way to meet with the other primordial beings, and if he was going to do that it would be best to contact Time first, they¡¯d always been on good terms. As for the others not so much; but they could probably explain why he was so abnormally human. Grimm smiled beginning his intrepid march into the streets of Gelfric shaking off the frost which clung so tightly to his clothes. First he¡¯d eat apples, and then he¡¯d try some other kind of fruit, fruits were supposed to be sweet after all and then maybe some meat and after that pastries; he wanted to try eating all the food he¡¯d ever seen, and while humans were by no means the best chefs they could certainly find a way to cook anything. He laughed as he marched forwards, a spectre of death in an unsuspecting city, unaware of just how bad his day was going to get.
¡°Did you hear the news?¡± Castern muttered from his seat hands clasped tight, fingers interlocked as if in prayer his gaze directed down towards the city waiting below them. It was an endless landscape of rising spires of ivory stone, dark grey towers, and small houses forming and complex warren of roads and streets, open squares and market places. The city rose up from the slums: half formed, ramshackle lean-tos, touched by morning frost becoming white washed houses with dark grey slate roofs, before reaching the manicured gardens of his own mansion. Gelfric was a city divided. Once upon a time it had been nothing more than an old fort owned by the kingdom of Felbore; which did nothing but gather dust and grow mould. But once Felbore had been annexed by the Calbrian Empire it became an outpost for their soldiers a site of trade with the nation of Ilimgrass and a place where adventurers could plunge into the Brien Mountains in search of fame and fortune sharing their winnings with the Empire at large. In time the city became its¡¯ own province ruled by a Marcher Lord who oversaw the turning of minor town into a true metropolis. ¡°Gramps, you can¡¯t be taking those rumours seriously? Barron Fedian was old and crazy; it was just his time to go.¡± Castern looked towards the young man, Kilto giving him a weak smile before looking away. ¡°Do not doubt me lad, I saw this city raised from nothing but marsh and hill One-hundred-and-eight years ago, I know my way about the nobles and trust me it was not Fedian¡¯s time. That bastard could have outlived us all.¡± Castern spat leaning forwards in his chair, the soft leather creaking as his fingers danced across the bronze ornaments embellished in the arms. He rose up to stand on time worn legs marching over to stand by the fire place, keeping in close proximity to its¡¯ warmth. ¡°I knew Fedian personally; he trained me in the use of the lance, long before his accident. It is true he lost his wits, but I can promise you his resolve was only hardened and coated in armour of insanity. He was supposed to turn One-hundred-and-forty this year, but I suppose he will never see the day.¡± Kilto sighed giving him a forced smile the young man joining him in a seat placed beside the fire one of the maids handing him a cup of tea before disappearing into one of the many side rooms leaving the pot on the table. ¡°Even for a noble one-hundred-and-forty is a hell of a long time. Not to mention he used to be an adventurer, I¡¯m sure those experiences weighed on him; his mind could take no more ¨C he just couldn¡¯t revive. Gramps please calm down you¡¯re acting-¡± ¡°Shut it boy!¡± Castern yelled slamming a clenched fist down into marble fire place; the stone giving way beneath the blow, a network of cracks spreading outwards, the ornaments resting atop the mantle tumbling over and lying still as the old man¡¯s clock chimed eight in the hall below ringing through the house. Pale dust trickled down into the flames a heavy silence weighing on Castern and Kilto alike. ¡°Yes Fedian was an adventurer; but that just means he has suffered deaths far worse than this a thousand times before. I do not make my decision based on guess work do you know how he died?¡± Kilto took a sip of his tea, his movements rigid his grip strained tight as he kept to his seat. ¡°He was defeated in a duel by Sir Dullam,¡± Kilto ventured laying down his tea upon the table Castern letting out a low sigh a pale glow emitting from his hand as he waved it over the surface of the fire place, the cracks slowly joining together as he righted the ornaments and dropped down to take a fire iron and prod the flames higher gesturing to a maid to bring in more wood. ¡°Forgive my outburst; this whole event has been weighing on me.¡± The old man let out a sigh stepping aside for the maid as he rubbed his palms into his wrinkled face, his expression haggard and low; more so than Kilto had ever seen the man before. He let out a sigh giving Castern a nod; the old man continued; ¡°yes you were right he did lose that duel to Olfas. It was a bad move of Fedian¡¯s part to challenge Dullam to pistols; I suppose he wanted to beat the knight at his own game. Fedian received a clear shot to the stomach the second the duel began and several more in the knees and arms, Dullam is a knight for a reason lad.¡± Castern paused for a moment the old Baron tapping the maids shoulder and gesturing for her to leave giving the same signal to all of the others. It seemed his Grandfather was back in his old habits again; they said paranoia ran in the family, Kilto sighed he just hoped he never got that old. ¡°Now you see Fedian may have been old but he was tough, he used to be a tank in his adventuring days so he can take a hit. Despite what just happened the man let out a curse and threw his gun aside before dropping down onto his rear f, Isma; his wife rushed over and he gave her a kiss saying he was going to start training with the pistols until he beat Dullam. Everyone had a good laugh at that but when it looked like it was time for the old man to be resurrected, the bleed effect having worn away most of his health, he let out a terrible scream and blood started to gush from his wounds like nothing you¡¯ve ever seen; everyone rushed over and tried to heal the man but it did no good he had already died. However his body did not evaporate; it just stayed there, like when you would an animals or a monsters and a large treasure chest just appeared at Dullam¡¯s feet.¡± ¡°And he¡¯s still not revived?¡± Kilto pushed sitting forwards in his chair his interest officially peeked. Castern gave him a stern shake of the head before pouring himself a cup of tea. ¡°No, I hear Lord Alchus plans to keep Dullam detained until Fedian revives.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that a bit harsh, especially if the man is gone for good.¡± ¡°If Fedian is dead I assume our good Lord will have the knight killed, and I can¡¯t disagree with him. He shouldn¡¯t have been arguing with Fedian in the first place; the man was his superior damn it; not to mention the way he humiliated the good man like that.¡± Kilto winced. Castern was always like this, old, stubborn and imperious to a fault. Kilto reached up rubbing his shoulder before shooting his uncle a forced smile. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry too much gramps ¨C I¡¯m sure this will all blow over soon enough, Dullam probably poisoned his shots or something.¡± The old man gave a grunt and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m looking into that and if he did by the gods I shall take my findings to the king and have the damned fool put to death, now I just have to decide how to do it...¡± ¡°Well I think my mother will want to see me back soon so I¡¯ll be departing, see you later Gramps.¡± ¡°I told you not to call me that you fool!¡± Castern yelled, Kilto giving the old man a brief bow before stepping back and jogging in the direction of the hallway.
It was surprisingly different to what he¡¯d been expecting. Grimm sat upon the steps of a small bakery, warm air wafting out through the doorway brushing against the back of his neck the scent of bread cooking in the furnace slowly fading away. Grimm watched as the sun sank before him drooping down below the distant horizon touching on the edge of the cities¡¯ walls and setting the streets ablaze on a fiery light. The city seemed to have been built atop a large hill and divided into several layers, each one a level platform a steep slope separating each district from the one above and the one below. From his vantage he could see almost everything; he was currently sitting on the second layer of the city, the slums stretching into the distance below and while gigantic stone houses rested above, some kind of palace of castle resting at the cities¡¯ very peak. Grimm yawned shuffling out of the way of a customer, the middle-aged woman making her way into the bakery with a backward glance in his direction a low rumble rising up from his stomach.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The young boy patted his gut before turning his attention back to the street. He¡¯d seen the city change over the course of the day; watched people woke up and set about their daily lives. Merchants erected their stalls in the street, some people bartered for food and trading coins and whatever else they had to hand while others simply rushed by in the direction of wherever it was they needed to go. People worked to earn money and people earned money so that they could eat; humans had an ecosystem just like any other animal they just happened to call it an economy; and now he was part of that human ecosystem too! Grimm let out a laugh, a wide grin splitting his face as the door behind him burst open, a wild yell splitting the still evening air. ¡°You again kid? I told you before, leave me be; I¡¯m trying to run a business here!¡± The baker a large rotund man screamed swinging his broom in a wide arc bringing it down atop Grimm¡¯s head with a fwoosh. ¡°You said you would leave my shop alone if I gave some bread and I did, so get lost damn it!¡± The baker seethed a small vein popping out atop his scalp; Grimm sitting transfixed by the man his head smooth and glossy with an expert shine... Ah, he was supposed to say something right? ¡°I did leave and I walked around the town for a bit but then I got cold so I came back here. When you heat up the bread it makes the whole storefront nice and arm.¡± Grimm smiled the baker standing in shock his broom falling to his side. The large man turned around to go back into the bakery, resting a palm atop his hairless little head; but before he left he let out a long lonely sigh uttering three simple words. ¡°Please just leave.¡± The Bakery door chimed the man rejoining his customer, Grimm watching through the store window as the man gave a short bow to the woman who had entered just a moment before, the old lady snatching a large cloth bag from atop the counter and walking out head held high. Hmm maybe there was something he was misunderstanding? The old woman shot him a glare from the other side of the street, his hands shoved deep into his pockets to stave off the chill of the encroaching evening, another wave of hunger rising up from below him followed by a long low rumble ¨C his stomach told him he was hungry again. It was a shame he wasn¡¯t allowed back in the shop that baker¡¯s bread was lovely; maybe he¡¯d go to the market instead. If he sat out in front of one of their stalls maybe they¡¯d give him food as well; that or they¡¯d chase him away with a broom, well it was one five odds at least by his reckoning. It was worth a shot, after all what could possibly go wrong? Grimm trudged his way down the street, his hands pushed deep into his pockets, balled up with a copper coin he¡¯d found on the floor and a roll of oily cloth. He had no idea exactly how to use either items but he felt it would be better to keep them with him. He turned off of the main road and into a side street before taking several alleys in the general direction he felt the market was supposed to be. He popped out of a small byway, running between what looked like two warehouses. He stood at the bottom of a wide road which just got wider as you went up opening into a sort of makeshift plaza, wooden stalls standing still in the open air, people rushing and pressing about them and while it wasn¡¯t the market he¡¯d had in mind it would certainly do. They had a butcher a baker a grocer; there were a couple of people wheeling about portable food carts, and a couple of people selling different kind of knick knacks and necessities. It wasn¡¯t like any of the other markets he¡¯d been in thus far, this one was smaller and darker; the people were dressed more plainly as well; maybe this was like the working class market or something? The city did seem to have a pretty strong class system well of course it would when the city itself was divided into layers. A gentle nudging pain reminded him why he was looking for a market in the first place: food. Grimm let out a low sigh rubbing his stomach before jogging in the direction of the grocers cart slipping into the crowd of bodies as they traded coins with the tall scraggly selling them their fruit and vegge. ¡°Come now ma¡¯am, leave some for the other customers¡± The grocer laughed dropping a pile of vegetable in a woman¡¯s bag before she heaved the sack up onto her shoulder. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be like that I¡¯m just restocking this weeks¡¯ soup. Gotta keep the husband from wasting away.¡± The woman laughed waving to the grocer before making her way out of the market, Grimm slipping into the old woman¡¯s place. ¡°Oh, you mammy sent you out to do the chores eh kid, what you want to buy?¡± The man laughed sweeping a hand over his wears some of the other customers letting out a slow humph as he skipped the queue. ¡°Apples¡¯ I want apples.¡±Grimm declared pointing a small pyramid of the fruit stacked in the corner; the grocer laughed reaching out his hand. ¡°That¡¯ll be a copper an apple.¡± ¡°How do I pay?¡± The low murmur of the crowd fell hushed, the Grocer rising from his seat. ¡°If you aint going to pay then get out of here you street rat!¡± The man yelled grabbing a short wooden stick from the counter top raising it high over his head. Grimm stumbled backwards, a tingle of fear working its way up from the souls of his feet as he crashed back into the crowd, a large hand from one of the other customers bowling him over and out into the street. The young child fell in a disarray of limbs before eventually pulling himself up from the cobbles shaking his head to drag his thoughts together again. He reached down to rub his rear end, that fall had really hurt. Hmmm, maybe it was better to work out how to pay first rather than asking for help. Maybe the way children and adults paid was different? He couldn¡¯t remember he knew it was simple: it was supposed to be simple. Grimm pulled out the dull brown coin from his pocket, one side printed with the head of a young woman and the other with some kind of weird looking bird with horns; or maybe it was a dragon ¨C his memories just kept getting hazier and hazier. Grimm sighed his stomach roaring in anger at his previous failing. Being human was hard. He let out a low sigh, before making his way towards one of the ware houses resting at the edge of the plaza, dropping down onto a granite step, one of the brass pipes above his head letting out a wild screech. Grimm let out a cry at the sound pulling his knees closer about his chest; a sickly shiver working its¡¯ way through his body, he was cold again. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t wuss out now Ribble, move your arse!¡± a young girl hissed Grimm startling at her voice; she was probably not much older than Grimm, with short white hair and a long muddy brown shirt. She dragged a larger boy behind her a big pack strapped to his back, a younger child with a shaved head following behind the two of them. All three of them were dressed in rags, barefoot but for a covering of long strips of cloth wrapped about their. Grimm nodded to himself as they passed him by, the youngest child shooting him a glare, the other two giving him a glance but moving on without paying him any real attention. The trio stopped besides the edge of the green grocers cart, as far in the distance the sound of a bell tolled, shaking the air, the crowd looking away for a brief moment Grimm picking out the shape of a clock tower cast in red not too far away. By the time he turned around the children were already leaving the stall. Well that was disappointing he¡¯d hoped he¡¯d be able to see how to use money. Oh it looked like they were coming back. ¡°Hey, you tell Orley that this patch belongs to us!¡± the youngest child hissed holding up a small green apple, shooting Grimm a wide grin ¡°you got that?¡± His words were followed by a sharp cry the girl striking him over the back of the heads before dragging the pair of boys along them along giving Grimm a sidelong glance before leaving. Orley? Maybe they¡¯d mistaken him for someone else? Oh well at least now he knew what he was supposed to do with his rag. Grimm let out a small laugh pulling the long strip of oily cloth from his pocket winding it about his foot before tying it tight with a nice little bow. It was strange, he could remember how to tie a bow but not how to buy an apple... He¡¯d think about it later. Besides now he at least had an idea of how to buy an apple; it seemed like children didn¡¯t need to pay after all! The distant bell finished tolling, and fate was set into motion. ¡°Come on people time to close up shop!¡± a harsh voice rang out in the wake of the bell, a man dressed in dull armour appearing at the other end of the market, ¡°bell¡¯s tolled six that means no more selling, hurry this along so I can get a nice warm drink down at Mina¡¯s before I head home!¡± The guard cried, pulling off his helmet, his spear resting low upon his shoulder. ¡°Aye, care if I join ya there Leo?¡± A young man running a portable food stand laughed waving at the guard, before the two broke out into conversation as the customers began to disperse, the larger stalls left in their places as the shop owners began to stow their merchandise away. Ah! If he was going to buy something he had to go now. Grimm hopped up from his seat, scuttling over in the direction of the grocers¡¯ stall, stopping at the edge of the counter slightly short on breath, the Grocer shot him a hard glare as he continued to pack his goods away Grimm giving him a warm smile his hand reaching out. He took hold of one of the apples before stepping back and giving the man a wave. The Grocer stood still his face contorted in a mix of confusion and rage before he reaching down to drag up his cudgel, pointing the wooden stick in Grimm¡¯s direction before screaming at the top of his lungs; ¡°catch that thief!¡± Grimm stood in shock for a moment an old woman stepping in towards him, a pair of hands closing upon his shoulder. They boy recoiled, slipping his arm free of the old woman¡¯s grip the apple coming free of his as he stumbled backwards unsteady on his feat ¡°Get back here you street rat!¡± Grimm his heart quiver, an acute pain swelling in his chest as he turned taking off into a narrow byway, struggling to find a steady pace, as the setting sun lit his path in a bloody red, the eaves of the houses set ablaze. The Grocer continued to scream, taking off in pursuit, not much more than a few foot steps behind. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of you runts, pilfering my merchandise!¡± The Grocer yelled drawing in ever closer. Grimm made a sharp turn down a second alley, the merchant letting out a curse failing to make the bend. He didn¡¯t understand what was going; why was this happening ¨C those children had done just the same thing he had? He didn¡¯t get humans, he didn¡¯t want this to happen, but how was he supposed to stop it? He couldn¡¯t do a damn thing; he didn¡¯t want to be cold or hungry, he didn¡¯t want to be hurt They ran deeper and deeper into the city, through the endless winding of narrow paths which choked out the light and left them standing in pallid grey shadows. Grimm made sharp turns whenever he could, labouring to keep up on his own two feet without plummeting into the dirt until at last the sound of footsteps died far off in the distance. He paused slumping down back against a wall, his heart rioting in his chest, his body hot and numb and aching. What had he done wrong? He supposed food wasn¡¯t free for children was it... It should be. Was it wrong to steal to feed yourself, he didn¡¯t have any money so was he just supposed to starve? He didn¡¯t get humans. Grimm sniffed wiping at his face, a track of tears falling down to pool in the dirt and the dust of the rough beaten path. Grimm pulled his coin out of his pocket; that man had chased him down over this, he¡¯d chased him with a stick, and if he¡¯d caught him... He shook his head he didn¡¯t want to think about it. ¡°So you did have money after all!¡± A pair of tough gnarled hands grasped him about the wrist pulling him in close. ¡°Filthy gutter-snipe, why can¡¯t you trash just learn to leave decent folk alone!¡± The Grocer yelled down at him, sneering through a half shaved beard and lop sided moustache, yanking the the coin from Grimm¡¯s hand before stuffing it deep into his own pocket. ¡°It¡¯s about time I teach your kind a lesson!¡± Grimm rose to his feet with what little strength he had left the air suddenly forcing its¡¯ up way out of his lungs. The Grocer planted his boot into Grimm¡¯s gut, a heavy blow knocking him back and pinning him up against the wall. Pain exploded outwards the Grocer stepping back letting him fall down onto his side, a wave of pain rolling its¡¯ way outward from his abdomen like a physical pinning him in place, curled up in the foetal position. The Grocer sneered raising up his foot and driving it down into Grimm¡¯s ribs ¡°Tell your rat bastard friends¡±, again, ¡°to never¡±, and again ¡°steal from me or I¡¯ll send you all to respawn at the temple!¡± the Grocer reached down lifting Grim up by his hair, the young boy straining for breath the taste of blood rising to his mouth, the world about him seeming to shake and bend. The man drove his knee up into Grimm¡¯s chest launching him backwards his body slamming against a wall and wall into the dirt, warm blood slowly working its¡¯ down his forehead; his hands as cold as ice, as his torso burnt with pain. ¡°I hope that teaches you your damn lesson.¡± The Grocer sneered turning away Grimm slowly pushing himself up, a sensation of emptiness working its¡¯ way outward, momentarily blocking out the pain. He turned trudging slowly in the man¡¯s direction before reaching up, grabbing hold of his worn leather vest. ¡°Please give it back.¡± Grimm reached out offering his hand to the man, a look like fire burning in his eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me you filthy gutter-snipe!¡± The man swung his arm round knocking Grimm away with a back hand, a sharp throbbing bursting in his cheek. The young boy lay there for a moment the Grocer bending over him, hand grasping him about the collar and hoisting him up. ¡°Learn some damn respect. Its¡¯ one measly copper; you really want to fight me over it?¡± The Man launched his fist forwards into Grimm¡¯s face, slamming him down into the dirt everything about him going black hard words drifting out through the darkness ¡°It¡¯s about time I sent you back to the slums where you belong¡± Time seemed to trickle by, the darkness growing deeper, pain rushing through his body like a flame, he struggled for breath, reaching blindly into nothingness his consciousness continuing to slip further and further away into the dark before. A moment of weightlessness struck him and his world went cold as once again he found himself slipping deeper into a dark shifting sea. Chapter Two: Iron and Water Chapter Two: Iron and Water It was soothing; the roaring of the flames, the heat the air choked with ash and soot. The sound of metal striking against metal cut clear through the haze and it put him at ease; the shape of the handle, the strength of the blow, each action repeated and refined: this was what he loved. ¡°Come on I¡¯ve heard a good rumour, you sure you don¡¯t want to listen for once?¡± Aria laughed the young woman sitting atop his desk legs crossed beneath her, tossing one of his hammers repeatedly up into the air with one hand where it span in place before dropping back down into the other without the slightest sound. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this.¡± ¡°But-¡± ¡°Just go home; we both know why you¡¯re here! Can¡¯t you please just let me finish my work?¡± Greiz yelled pulling down the length of cloth wrapped about his face, glaring in her direction through thick glass goggles. His sister shot him a wide grin before letting out a hysterical laugh ¡°you sound just like Pops; I mean it: ¡®let me finish my work¡¯ did you lift that off the old man or are you just getting all old and crotchety now that you¡¯re living alone?¡± Greiz let out a low growl slamming his hammer down onto his stone work bench jabbing a thick finger in her direction his feather gloves creaking as he moved. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for your shenanigans! I need to finish my next order by tomorrow otherwise I¡¯ll be facing a military fine.¡± He turned grabbing a pair of tongues before taking hold of the finished spear head, smoky tendrils rising up off of the cherry red lump of steel. He plunging it down a moment later into a vat of cooling oil, the liquid bubbling as the near molten metal touched its¡¯ surface before slowly dying down and lying flat Greiz leaving the spearhead submerged for a moment before lifting it up, giving it a quick shake and dropping it into a large wooden crate. Now all he had to do was enchant the breast-plates, sharpen the spear heads, mount the spears on actual handles, pad the helmets, and attach leather straps to the vambraces... Well It looked like he was going to work another all-nighter. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have to worry about that if you just came back and worked with Dad.¡± Aria murmured Greiz unfastening the buckle on his goggles, turning on his unwelcome intruder. ¡°No, I¡¯m not going to work for the old man.¡± ¡°Then why don¡¯t you let me help out just for today.¡± Aria laughed hopping down from the table and rushing in the direction of the forge. ¡°Like hell!¡± Greiz yelled grabbing his sister by the forearm hauling her up, her feet leaving the floor as he held her as high as she would go; far, far away from anything she could break. He left the nine-teen year old girl dangling nearly four-foot off the floor for a few long moments, vainly attempting to catch his breath before catching her under the armpits and holding her just a few millimetres in front of his face. Aria was dwarf, and that didn¡¯t mean she was just a short ¨C it was just she wasn¡¯t entirely human. Actually for a dwarf she was just a little taller than normal at four-foot-two-inches; dwarves were miniature humanoids well known for their physical strength and technical skill and they held the title of the greatest craftsmen on the face of Alve. Dwarves also happened to be prideful and stubborn with heads just as hard as the rocks they mined and while Greiz was human, he couldn¡¯t say the same for his adopted family. ¡°We both know how you get when anyone leaves you in the forge unsupervised; ¡®you know what; why don¡¯t I add incendiary runes to this sword¡¯ or ¡®that shield looks like it could use a few extra mana cores¡¯ or how about the time you went ¡®look my brother¡¯s been experimenting with golems again why don¡¯t I try tinkering around with that really big one over there and cause an explosion destroying the academy workshop and several pieces of coursework¡¯. In short there is no way in hell I will ever let you work in a forge I own, near a street I live in, and if I could help it; within the borders of this nation!¡± Greiz seethed dropping the girl down onto the floor, her face scrunched up into an angry little ball, her hair burning an even brighter shade of red than normal. ¡°You¡¯re still angry about that? It wasn¡¯t my fault. I had no idea you¡¯d been using a fire based mana engine; the teachers told you not to, you were supposed to use water or earth, of course everything would go up in flames. I just tried to see if I could start the thing up and see how well you¡¯d done.¡± Greiz sighed pinching the bridge of his nose and taking in a deep breath. They¡¯d been over this plenty of times, even if it was completely and utterly her fault arguing wouldn¡¯t change anything now. ¡°If you¡¯re not going to leave then please just hurry up and tell why did you bother coming all the way down here in the first place? doesn¡¯t Lumia need your¡¯ help ¨C last I heard she took on some big project from some knight.¡± Aria snorted her arms folded over her chest, ¡°don¡¯t call her that, she¡¯s your¡¯ mother too, and she said I could have the day off as a matter of fact. Besides she¡¯s almost finished, now; all that¡¯s left are a number of alterations to the some of the gears to make sure everything runs smoothly. I¡¯ll never understand the nobles¡¯ obsession with golems or yours¡¯ for that matter.¡± Greiz sighed stepping past her and dropping down into a chair waiting beside his desk tossing his gloves aside and crossing off the last of the spearheads on his list. He reached out pulling the blue prints for the runes he was meant to carve on the breast-plates out from under a pile of yellowed papers before letting out a heavy groan; he had to make three four runes per breast plate and include minor elemental defences as well. His sister leaned in peering over his shoulder ¡°I just thought it would be nice to pay you a visit and see if you¡¯d heard this new rumour that¡¯s been floating about the capital since yesterday.¡± A small grin crept its¡¯ way up the side of his face. ¡°If you¡¯re talking about that bastard Fedian Kicking the bucket I know.¡± Aria choked taking an overdramatic step back. ¡°Don¡¯t under estimate the slums information network dear sister.¡± Greiz let out a low laugh. ¡°Well that isn¡¯t the only reason I dropped by; same as usual really. Mom wanted me to ask you to come back. You can work with pops in the forge again and-¡± ¡°I refuse¡± Greiz shut her down before she could go any further pouring himself a drink from a large pitcher of water before tossing his goggles aside. ¡°I told the old man I was going to start my own workshop and that I was going to be a success.¡± ¡°You work in the slums.¡± ¡°I have contracts with several adventurer parties and the military, as well as two storefronts.¡± ¡°Sure...¡± Aria shook her head spinning around his chair and jumping up to perch herself atop the edge of the table; ¡°well if you¡¯re going to talk this place up why don¡¯t I just join you here as well.¡± ¡°I told the old man I¡¯d do it alone.¡± ¡°But!¡± ¡°Besides I¡¯d like to keep all of my limbs thank you very much.¡± Greiz pushed back from the table rising to his feet, his spine creaking with each movement a hard wind blowing through the open workshop and striking him clean about the face. He reached over pulling his cloak from the back of his chair, substituting it for his blackened apron, affixing the rusted brass clasp about his throat before shoving his hands deep into his pockets and turning back in Aria¡¯s direction. ¡°I think I¡¯ll take a break now, please just don¡¯t break anything while I¡¯m gone.¡± ¡°Course I won¡¯t I¡¯m going to come with you.¡± Aria laughed leaping down from her spot atop the table. ¡°I¡¯m just going to head over to the river and say hi to an old friend. You sure you want to risk getting robbed for all you¡¯re worth? The pickpockets round here can smell outsider.¡± ¡°Ah, then perhaps I will stay here...¡± ¡°Well if that¡¯s the case try not to blow anything up.¡± Aria frowned, Greiz shooting her a wide grin, her face slowly changes shades to match her hair. ¡°Screw you; I am one of this cities greatest artificers. Maybe I made a few mistakes, but that was eight years ago. I¡¯m not going to blow up your workshop, although I would like to take a look at a couple of your latest blueprints... ¡± Greiz scowled in her direction, the young woman holding her hands up slowly retreating back into the forge. He sighed shoving his hands deep into his pockets and making his way in the direction of the ¡®garden¡¯. ¡°Come on at least tell me you¡¯ll think about it!¡± Aria cried the young blacksmith letting out a loud snort before stepping out of the shop. His workshop was open air, one of the walls having been removed; the forge opening up directly into his yard; a dusty stretch of earth marked off by a low stone wall, Greiz turned seizing a short hooked pole leaning against the wall before swinging it up and catching the lip of the shutter dragging it down with one swift tug. ¡°Hey tell me you¡¯ll consider coming home; even if you just pay them a visit, I¡¯m sure mom¡¯d be happy. She¡¯s worried.¡± The rattle of iron slowly died, Greiz glancing back through one of the small holes in the shutters Aria standing uncertain and small in the middle of the room lit by the glow of the furnace. ¡°If you don¡¯t break anything than I might consider it.¡± He called back swinging the hook back around to rest on his shoulder taking it with him as left; he¡¯d had more than enough of street urchin¡¯s stealing his stuff whenever he left anything out in the open. So he¡¯d think about things huh? Greiz stepped out into a narrow alleyway unhesitatingly pushing forward making his way through the random hodgepodge of ramshackle lean-tos. There really wasn¡¯t much to think about at all, he¡¯d made a promise with his father and he had no plan to go and break it; and of course there was the issue with his mother to which just made keeping his promise with his father all the easier. Alafort Icon was the head of the Icon family and Greiz¡¯s father; he ran a weapons in Gelfric¡¯s third ring. For generations the icon family had been supplying the nobles with their swords and spears, their axes and their armour and to Gelfric¡¯s dwarven community they were the aspiration of every weapon-smith in the city and an iron pillar of support; a pillar which had just one crack, in its¡¯ long adorned history. Greiz paused stepping out into the main road, the path running down in the direction of the western gate; carts and carriages trundling along the busy thoroughfares, making their way upwards and outwards through the city along roughly cobbled street. The young blacksmith stood waiting for a breach in the traffic before taking off at a light jog crossing the road and moving into another back alley, slowly winding his way through a patch of lower class taverns inns and brothels. People tended to give the slums a bad reputation, but things weren¡¯t nearly as bad as people said so long as you steered clear of the worst parts of the ring. Yes the houses were packed tight together, yes there were pick pockets and thieves, and yes occasionally some lunatic would start running amuck in one of the poorer neighbourhoods letting slaughter and madness guide them as they went, but it was nothing you couldn¡¯t learn to live with. For the most part neither thieves nor pickpockets bothered stealing from other slum residents, and even if it was filthy, cramped and riddled with disease it wasn¡¯t like it would kill you; and even if it did you¡¯d just revive in the temple anyway. What people didn¡¯t say about the slums was that the houses were cheap, you had free and easy access to all of the town¡¯s latest gossip, and nobody gave a damn about who you were or where you came from; in the slums mixed families made up the majority of the populace elves, dwarves, beasts, humans, even some species of monsters had managed to wrangle themselves a permit to live in the city and lead happy lives surrounded by the muck and the filth and the squalor. No matter who you were if you were looking for somewhere to belong you could find it in the slums... Maybe it was the fact he¡¯d been away from the slums for so long which had caused him to think of the rat infested streets with such fondness. Well that or maybe he was just going mad. Greiz let out a weak laugh stepping out into the early afternoon sun; taking in a sharp sweet breath of fresh air looking forwards over the grassy banks of the river. The river was named Aso and it ran wide and deep, a series of large stone bridges spanning the water every kilometres or so as the river cut through the north-western quarter of the city. For the most part no one ever came to the river, if they needed water they¡¯d draw it from underground reservoirs just beneath the city via wells and pumps or have it directly pumped into their homes, people only ever came to the river to dump their trash or in the case of some few, to fish the waters for whatever lay beneath murky surface of the fast flowing stream. Greiz liked the river, it was calming; the roar of the city falling short before the green grass. The air was cool and crisp his breath turning to steam which rose and vanished before him. The river always changed, although the course of the water ran the same, the people who sat about its¡¯ banks, and the fish teeming in its¡¯ waters were always different, no matter when he came; but one thing did manage to remain constant; there was one face which over the course of the many years he¡¯d visited the water¡¯s edge had never changed.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°You¡¯re early Runt.¡± Fishman snorted glancing backwards for a moment before returning his gaze forwards towards his rod and line, the end dangling deep within the water. The old man had squat himself down just to the left of one of the large stone bridges, he used an old worn wooden crate as a seat; wrapped up tight in a thick leather coat stained with dirt and mould, his collar turned up against the wind, the waters rushing by fast below. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that you old coot? You should be glad I came to visit you¡± Greiz laughed dropping down to sit on the grass next to the old man, catching a glimpse of his tent set up just beneath the foot of the bridge. ¡°you my metal-working friend; are the kind of man who¡¯ll never do nothing without a good reason. You saw me two-days ago, it¡¯s two days too soon for you to pay another visit¡± The old man gave a shrill piercing laugh, sallow lips pulling into a grin revealing jagged yellow teeth; his eyes open wide glaring blindly in Greiz¡¯s direction, white as milk but for a dark ring denoting where the iris should have lain. The young man swallowed hard before giving his answer. ¡°My younger sister¡¯s paying me a visit, she wants me to go back and live with my family over in the third-ring; work at my father¡¯s shop and leave the slums behind.¡± Greiz sighed, a sharp pain exploding in the back of his head. ¡°You dumbass!¡± Fishman cried swinging the butt of his fishing rod outwards whacking Greiz along with back with a loud crack. ¡°Anyone else around here get¡¯s an offer like that they¡¯d jump on it; you hear me. So tell me Mr Blacksmith why don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°You¡¯re insane.¡± Greiz huffed glaring at the blind old man, as he snorted recasting his line out into the water. Damn, he should have known something like this would happen ¨C this was what he got for running away from his problem. ¡°Things with my family are complicated; my father has a perpetual rod stuck up his arse and my mother never really liked me in the first place. Besides I¡¯ve got a business of my own and a house too; I¡¯m doing just fine without their help.¡± ¡°Dumbass...¡± Fishman snorted wiping his nose on the sleeve of his coat before returning to his fishing. ¡°When you¡¯re done here you go home. The stream today is fast, too fast for fish; that¡¯s why no one else is out here except the slum brats; but I still cast my line. You can think about it all you want but home is home, and that¡¯s where you ought to be headin¡¯ so is that house up there in the ritz home or is it this one down here in the pits?¡± The old man let out another grating laugh. Greiz sighed falling back onto the river bank, resting his head amidst the grass. It was a sad thing when the only person you could every really rely on for good advice was a homeless fisherman whose name you didn¡¯t even know. Fishman... his mother was right he really did have terrible naming sense. Greiz let out a small laugh resting his arm atop his head shielding his gaze from the sun. It didn¡¯t seem like he had any choice left now. It wasn¡¯t going to be easy but maybe it really would all work out, after all there was always hope right?
¡°Runt... Hey Runt!¡± a sharp strike of pain exploded around Greiz¡¯s gut the young man¡¯s eyes bursting wide as he rocked upwards into a seated position, nestled comfortably within the red grass, his eyes staring blurrily about the river, everything burnt with shades of gold and brown, Greiz cast his gaze upwards towards the great grey wall sealing the city in and the large ball of fire setting down low just beyond the western parapets. The city stood alight, the sunset glinting off iron railings, brass chimney, glass windows, the dark roofs of the houses seeming to flow like water, rising and falling like a sea, a still silence rising up over all. And caught in this landscape one thought rushed through his head stronger and faster than any other forcing its¡¯ way out of his lips. ¡°Crap... I¡¯m late.¡± He needed to get back and start working on the rest of his order damn it. Sure he wasn¡¯t exactly in the red at the moment but that didn¡¯t mean he want to be paying fines all because he decided to take a quick nap. He had to get back soon; if he worked through the night and into the morning then he¡¯d be able to finish a little after noon and avoid the fine altogether! Greiz rose up on unsteady feet, a firm hand grasping him tight about the ankle, the blacksmith turning to see Fishman glaring up in his direction. ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re goin¡¯ Runt, I need help.¡± Greiz stopped in his tracks as the old man continued to talk ¡°I¡¯ve told you before old man you can call me Greiz ¨C what do you need help with anyway?¡± Fishman snorted slowly rising to his feet on ancient bones supporting himself via his fishing rod, the blind man pointing a finger out into the river. ¡°We¡¯ve got a haul Runt and you¡¯re going to help me drag it in.¡± The old man laughed hobbling over under the bridge Greiz letting out a sigh and following behind. ¡°I was sat fishing same as normal, you sleeping soundly on the grass when I heard a weird blubbing coming from up this way just past the bridge. I think someone¡¯s gone and dumped something into the river again and you¡¯re going to help me get it out. We get something good and I might just split it with you¡± Fishman chortled pointing the end of his rod out into the river in the direction of a large greyish sack caught in the middle of the stream, water flowing violently about it but the bag refusing to move. ¡°It¡¯s probably caught on some big old rocks hiding just beneath the surface over there. Can you see it?¡± Greiz sighed peering through the dying light, a sudden gust rushing up against them from their right, knocking the bag free turning the dark sack upwards into the light to float atop the surface of the water half sunk. Greiz felt stomach fall as he watched, the young man swallowing hard as he watched the figure slowly drift along caught in the stream ¡°It¡¯s a child...¡±Greiz muttered the old man turning to face him, his eyes shining with a pale light, his grin pulled taught into a severe line ¡°Go after it you great clump!¡± Fishman yelled waving a hand through the air pointing downstream. ¡°What? It¡¯s probably already dead; what do you expect me to do? The body will evaporate any moment now anyway!¡± ¡°Well it hasn¡¯t yet so maybe the little tykes¡¯ still alive. Now go and help you great galumphing lummox!¡± The old man struck Greiz hard along the back of his calf with his fishing rod before slapping him forwards with an open palm. ¡°Run Runt, you great ninny!¡± Greiz blanked out for a moment setting off at a quick trot passing under the bridge and dodging by Fishman¡¯s tent his eyes fixated on the large grey mass slowly bobbing away into the distance. He turned sharply reaching down as he passed the far end of the bridge grabbing the hooked stick from where he¡¯d left it in the grass taking off after the child at a swifter pace. This made no sense; even if the brat did drown they¡¯d just revive at the temple anyway; besides even if he did get them out of the water they¡¯d probably freeze the moment they were out in the clean air; the wind harsh and cutting. Ah what the hell was he thinking about right now, a child was drowning right in front of his eyes. So was he just going to stand by and watch as the child drowned? Walk away and ignore it all? That wasn¡¯t the kind of person he was; that wasn¡¯t the kind of man he wanted to be; he wasn¡¯t going to be like that ¨C he was never going to be like them! Greiz pushed on fuelled by a mix of righteous fury and grim resolve slowly over taking the body, the river pushing it closer and closer almost within reach of the shore. He turned hard pivoting on his heel and jumping down into the water, the current striking him hard about the chest as he sunk his fingers deep into the soil of the bank leaning out into the water the stick in his left hand trailing limply in the air, the body slowly drawing in while the cold took hold. Nearly, he nearly had it; just a little more and... The wind turned; his hand dropping down beneath the water and the undercurrent grasping at the pole hauling it away and out of sight; the body passing by untouched. Damn it! Greiz took a deep breath pushing off against the river bank, plunging forwards in the child¡¯s direction clammy hands clamping down on an arm a bitter moment of triumph as the water slowly dragged him along as well, the sheer cold of the frigid depths creeping up along his skin, the wind howling above him and stealing what little warmth he had left. He was really starting to regret not learning how to swim. ¡°Take hold Runt!¡± Fishman cried shoving his staff out into the water Greiz reaching up to grab the old man¡¯s fishing rod, Fishman pulling them in with what power he could muster until they broke upon the bank Greiz throwing the child up onto the crass before crawling out himself a shivering mess. ¡°I did it huh?¡± the blacksmith muttered glancing in the old man¡¯s direction before collapsing into the grass Fishman muttering something to himself as he knelt down over the child, placing a shaky hand down upon the boys chest. ¡°Alive or dead then?¡± Greiz murmured, the fisherman patting the child atop the head and shooting him a grin. ¡°Alive, but they¡¯ve got a little water in the lungs; not enough to be lethal but enough to put them in bed for a day or two... Figures; looks like just another slum rat to me ¨C you¡¯re pretty familiar with those little terrors, you have any idea who he is?¡± Fishman queried rising to his feet clicking his tongue as he glanced down at his soaked leg. Greiz sighed looking in the child¡¯s direction giving him a quick once over before replying with a shake of the head. ¡°Never seen him before in my life, he definitely isn¡¯t part of Moon or Horley¡¯s gang, if he came from up the river it was probably one of them lot who tossed him into the water in the first place as for the scum we get ¡®round here there¡¯s too many of them for me to tell them apart.¡± The blacksmith huffed his eyes falling back down to the boy. The child was small, it was hard to judge his age but Greiz would have to say around ten, his skin was unnaturally pale and his hair short and dark the colour of oil, glossy, smooth and plastered down about his forehead. ¡°Well you should probably take him to that home of yours, warm him up. The water in him won¡¯t kill him but trust me, the cold can.¡± ¡°What can¡¯t you take him?¡± the young man cried Fishman snorting before marching away in the direction of his tent. ¡°I¡¯m an old man, I live under a bridge in a tent; you have a house you a nice warm fire, and you have a bed to boot; who do you think should take care of him?¡± The old man snickered to himself giving Greiz a back handed wave. He sat there for a long time watching the old man leave, rubbing at his arms and legs to restore some warmth before turning to face the child; it looked like he wasn¡¯t going to be pulling an all-nighter after all. Well there was no helping it now. The blacksmith sighed rising up from the grass to stand in the last dying rays of sunlight before grabbing the child¡¯s hand and raising it up tracing a circle slowly over the back of his palm, a dull red light following the movement a sharp chime cutting the air a near empty window popping up in front of him.
GRIMM
AGE: 11
RACE: Human/Other
AFFINITY: Death
SKILL TREES: None
There was no doubt about it; he was a slum rat. Not only was he born mixed race but his affinity was death, a less than desirable trait in most children; not to mention the fact he was limited to just the one affinity. Some children were born with everything and others with nothing - it was sad but that was just the way of the world. Greiz sighed; there was no way he could leave the child out in the street now, he knelt down grasping Grimm about the shoulders before hauling him up and making his way back in the direction of the slums. The sun had set beyond the cities walls, night slowly closing in, the temperature rapidly sinking freezing the sodden cloak atop his back as he lumbered his way through the darkened allies and onto the main road. The street lights had been lit along the large cobblestone thoroughfare, burning brightly with sickly yellow light, casting circles about the streets and shadowy figures shifted to and fro, The gates to the city had been locked down tight, no more carts clogging the road, only the occasional carriage moving through the night. He pushed on crossing the road and slipping deep into his own section of the city until before long Greiz found himself stood in silence at the entrance to his home; his teeth rattling in his skull as he marched between the low stone walls. The wood fire in his hearth would have burnt out by now but hopefully he could get the coal fire in the forge up and running hotter than the fires of hell in just a couple seconds. He shuffled about his clothes creaking as he tossed the child up onto his shoulder and leaning in wrenched the shutter up peering forwards into the darkened forge. He really shouldn¡¯t have left Aria alone. Maybe this was some kind of cosmic punishment? His floor had been scorched, the stone flags cracked in several places, shards of glass most likely from some kind of mana crystal, littering the floor alongside scraps of metal and a number of engraving tools. His blueprints and diagrams had been blown haphazard about the room a number of small holes dinged through the paper, while the forge itself lay in silence. The coal fire had died long ago and the stone cold to the touch; great he¡¯d have to get the burner wood burner running now. What the hell was with his luck today? Chapter Three: A Gentle Death 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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?
¡°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.¡± This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°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.
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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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.