The Fulcrum, Broken

[Grimm]

“Are you ready?” Kalen’s hand crackled with power

“Hit me” Grimm smirked

Kalen’s hand struck firmly to Grimm’s chest, Incantation powered by the ritual surging raw magic in a way that is not meant for this plane.

Time and vision stretched as Grimm felt cast back, the sizzle of the magic and the rush of feeling wind encapsulated his being as his mind focused on one point and one point only.

His childhood bedroom.

With a loud BOOM that stole the peace from the air, Grimm appeared. Momentarily suspended in the void of space above the now ashen hobble, where once he remembered floorspace, it was a charred crater. He could only attempt to cry out as he fell, crashing down into the ruins of the building. His shoulder catching a remaining skeleton of the frame and bringing what was left of the wall down on him.

His head spinning, his confusion to his placement and landing was momentarily suspended as the contents of his stomach caught up to him, and painted the floor next to him. Taking some moments to process what he pulled off, he looked around the room, still half under the crumbled structure of the wall.

Something was very wrong.

This place could not be his home. This place that had obviously been burned at some point well in the past had dust and webs over the settled ash of the inferno that consumed it. The area around the hobbled structure as also neglected. Crop spaces over grown with weeds and grass, and the barn at the end of the pasture was collapsed as well.

“Did that moron send me forward in time as well?!” Grimm growled as he pulled him self up and out of the mess. Straightening out his gambeson, he winced from pain radiating from his chest. Looking down, a large red hand print had burned a hole through his shirt and blistered his chest. Rage and confusion were suddenly overwhelmed as he looked around trying to make sense of the area around him till his eyes had fallen on a tree. A tree where he and his friends had played. Walking over to it, he found where they had all carved their names in to it. The band of adventurers… and his name was chopped out of the wood.

“Oh, my child, this must be so confusing.” Nyx’s voice mocked a comforting tone and he could feel her fire flaring behind the eye patch. She held the form of a large cat, purple and spotted with black and blue under tones.

“You know what is going on, don’t toy with me on this. Where is my family?” Grimm all but begged. He realized he could no longer remember his mothers voice, or his father’s face.

“You would not believe me if I told you.”

“WHERE IS MY FAMILY!”

“Temper temper, child.” With a flick of her tail, a flash of pain shot through Grimm’s head that put him to one knee.

“You are asking after your family, and we both know you have a large circle you consider as family, some of which you left behind with this little stunt of yours.” Her head tilted playfully to the side. “Which of this “family” are you looking for?” She moved around behind him, her form shifting to that of a young woman, cloaked in lavender robes as she leaned in and whispered ever so kindly, “Your parents are long dead, as are your siblings of blood. You are the last to carry the name “Grimm” on this island…”

“Lies!”

“I didn’t even need the power of foresight to see that response coming,” she sneered back.

His breathing shaking. His hands twitched as he dropped his other knee and tried to process everything.

“I remember the deal, and getting dropped on the mainland. It was but a few years ago…. how could this have happened?” he asked as he looked to her.

It seems you have a gap or two in that grey area you keep behind that eye.” She purred. “But I happen to have it on good authority that your friend, Torell, still takes residence on this island. May haps a visit is in order and you can hear it from a voice you trust more then the one who returned life to you.

As she uttered his name, the scar over his heart twitched. A friend indeed, and one that his had missed. Even though he murdered Grimm once.

Covered in ash, bruised, and likely a few broken ribs, Grimm walked to the edge of what little remained of his home. Looking over it and slowing coming to grips that this was real. His home was gone. Burned and abandoned.

“But when? Why? How long?! WHO?!”

Rain started to fall. The cooling touch welcomed on the burn wound, Grimm made a makeshift cloak from a tattered cloth still hanging in the barn.

“Come, my displaced adventurer,” Nyx pushed past and morphed back into the cat, unaffected by the rain, perfectly dry, reminding Grimm that only he can see her and she really was just in his head.

The rain was light, and the winds gentle, though it did not help with the dirt road that lead to town. Grimm made his way into the town hall and noticed it was all well-built. Nothing like what he had just found with the abandoned farm. Everything was clean, people were acting the way you would expect in a bustling port with ships coming in and out for trade. The smell of exotic foods filled the air, people peddling wears and goods all in a grand mood. The music, the food, the air of adventure and excitement still abundant, one could almost bottle it and sell it from the shops…

THE SHOP!

His mother’s store front, he had almost forgotten it completely. He spun on the spot and hurried to the other side of town.

“Its not going to be what you are hoping for….”

“Please, just find some catnip and choke on it”

“Me-ow”

He could see the building, and as he came upon it, his emotions were mixed. The building still stood, the wood was in great shape, the door was beautifully detailed, even the railing with the hand twisted metal filigrees was immaculate. But the glass window was horribly wrong. What should have read “Maddy’s Modest Goods”, some buffoon wrote “Torell’s Terrific Trades!”

He…. No… what?

Stepping in and pulling his hood low Grimm couldn’t help but look around his mothers’ shop. Things were almost as he remembered, but instead of common goods you would need to run a ship, it was a mixed bag of weapons, potions, and armor. Grimm’s eye went from area to area as he came to a dark-haired dwarf woman who was running the shop. She was in the middle of a trade with a few Orc customers, only giving a general wave to Grimm as she noticed him looking in her direction, but nothing more. Looking past her, Grimm noticed a weapon on the wall that he remembered well. Torells’ Flintlock. The very one that took Grimm’s life. He couldn’t help but glare for a moment. Until the dwarf himself walked through the door from the back room. His beard well groomed and his hair pulled back and braided with whale bone beads. His form as stout as ever…. Like he hasn’t aged a day.

Torell shooed the other, younger, dwarf away. She had his eyes…. Daughter? Grimm wondered. Torell finished the barter with the orcs, pleased with him self he counted the silver coins into his hand as the patrons departed. Grimm followed and locked the door behind them.

“If you are looking for trouble, I am happy to sell you a lead ball at half the price” Torell grunted, his hand still holding the silver as his other slid under the counter.

“Oh…. I am looking for many things right now. Chief among them is answers.” Grimm turned and pulled the cowl of the hood down.

The silver coins hit the floor. Torell’s face a mask of shock and confusion. Words were attempted but utterly failed as the dwarf stared dumbfounded at the ghost in front of him.

Nyx sat on the self under the flintlock, smiling a sharp grin in her feline form at Grimm. It made his guts turn, but there was truth to her smile, and to his friend’s shock.

“Grimm?” Torell asked. “How? When?……How long?”

“I would like to ask you the very same, old friend.” Grimm gestured to the shop as he responded. Walking forward with a strained smile. It was all he could do to not lose his composure. This may have been the man who shot him, but he was familiar. He was what he was suppose to look like.

Torell took a step back and his hand once again went back under the counter. Anger flashing across his face. Grimm spun behind the support beam as lead dotted the space he once occupied before shredding the door behind him.

“You have a hard time recognizing friend from foe at that height, or are you going the way of the gnome and losing your marbles in your old age?!” Grimm spat from his cover.

A loud boom and thud were the retort as another shot peppered the pillar. Followed by the sound of another weapon reloading. The other dwarf was now ready to attack.

“Torell, it is me! I am lost and I am confused! I NEED answers!”

The smell of gun powder filled the room. People outside scattered, unlikely to help or interfere, thieves were often dealt with harshly. This would not be outside the range of a normal morning.

“Prove ta me you are who you say you are” Torell called, the audible click of another flintlock racking back. “and you better be convincing!”

Grimm’s hands reached out slowly as he stepped out cautiously from behind the post. Slowly he lowered his left hand to his shirt, and pulled it aside to reveal the scar over his heart. The scar put there by the dwarf in front of him now, with the very same flintlock he now held.

Torell’s gasp was sharp and his arm fell. “by all the seas, lad… “

Grimm moved to embrace his friend when the young dwarf let off her shot, taking him in the leg.

“Really?!” he gasped and took everything in him to not throw magic back in response. Torell ran from behind the counter and took the weapon from her, scolding her in dwarfish. She looked from him to Grimm, and left.

Grimm removed a strip from the makeshift cloak and tied it around the wound, before drinking a potion. Torell brought him a chair, offering apologies. “The girl is young and worries about her grandad, it’s the only time she has ever seen me drop a single coin.”

“Yeah, completely understand why you would shoot a stranger over clumsy fingers” Grimm retorted.

“You, apparently, have come back from worse.”

This confused Grimm further. Torell had been there when he was brought back… He participated in the bargain same as the rest. They all paid to bring him back…… Right?

“Oops, I may have smudged that a bit” Nyx chimed in from the side, Grimm’s head turned his breathing heavy with frustration. He bit back his questions and looked back to his host, who was also looking at the unwelcome cat.

Torell could see Nyx.

“You can see her?” Grimm gawked.

“Yep. Ever since I took that deal.” Torell spat on the floor.

Grimm nodded, “A deal I am grateful for and have been working to pay back that debt.”

A raised eyebrow told him that he was not speaking to the same deal. Torell nodded slowly as if trying to piece together a puzzle as well.

“So how long have you been above the waves?” Torell asked

“Three years now, been on the mainland hunting down…. coins…” Grimm relaxed in the chair. Leaning back he noticed the leg was a bit loose, but held him fine.

“Ah, yes, those damned coins.” Torell sighed and looked again to Nyx, “I suppose she got you looped in to one of her blood contracts too now that I have finished mine.”

“I…. what?” Grimm looked again to Nyx, who giggled and stretched

“Oh no, Torell, you let the cat out of the bag….” She purred.

The dwarf looked back to Grimm” what did the sea-witch tell you? What deal did you make with her”?

“I…. I was to repay her for the debt of all our soul coins…. To free you from the contract of resurrecting me. “

Torell lead back, a saddened look on his face. “Lad, we did no such thing. You were talking mad. Sun touched or so we thought, though later we figured out you had already been taken by Nyx,” he spat again at her. “When Darius tried to help you see truth, you stabbed him in the back…. And so, I shot you. The others and I GAVE you to Nyx to get Darius back. We didn’t see any other way…” The look in his eyes was that of regret and sorrow…

Nyx was that of Glee and joy.

Grimm could not process what he had just been told. His memories. His life. His Goals. His whole grip on the things that kept him center…… Gone. Fake. Never was.

“See? Now would you have believed that from me?” Nyx asked with her nose up

“What do you mean? He did not know? Oh, lad.” Torell’s face was crest fallen. “She has done a number to you… again.” He sat back

Grimm stood and grabbed a small hammer, throwing at the image of Nyx, roaring in rage. She, of course, didn’t flinch as the hammer passed through her image. Small cracks of memories started in Grimm’s mind, but he could not piece it together. It was like trying to bottle to morning fog, but they never stayed full.

“I can see she has twisted you down dark paths and twisted roads, Lad.” Torell stood behind Grimm and placed a hand on his arm. “You were a great friend once.” Shaking his head, he muttered to himself “Fifty long years since seeing you, and yet the fates were cruel enough to force my hand yet again.”

It was but a moment. The barrel had touched the middle of his back, Grimm’s hands moved almost as if of their own instincts as he spun, dropping down to his knees, one grabbing the flintlock and flaring with purple fiery magic. The other, pulling a short blade from the table in front of him, coming round in a silver streak.

That well-groomed beard fell to the floor, followed by pieces of the sundered gun, drops of crimson, and finally the headless body of Torell.

Screaming in denial, the young dwarven lass charged Grimm, Axe held high. Another flare of purple magic sent her strait up into the support beam of the shop, and down she crashed on a table of assorted goods, out cold.

As the cloaked figure limped away from the burning shop, “FIRE! FIRE!” people called. The inferno was well underway before showing signs on the outside. Try as the folks did, the fire took the building. Onlookers from a distance swore the blaze had a purple tint and moved along the building with a purpose of hunger. It was a devastating sight. Though one body was pulled to safety with minor burns.

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