A/N: Updated June 4, 2019
A/N (December 2nd, 2018): Fixes + new Raven scene!
A/N (old): Do I need a disclaimer every single chapter? Hopefully not. Sounds annoying.
Beta: Courtland!
~The Path Most Traveled~
Chris still could not believe that the hair was natural. The humongous wall, the natural mint hair, his changed face… it was as if he was in another world. Of course, it's impossible for him to actually have crossed universes. That kind of thing only happened in books and fanfiction. On the other hand, mint colored hair. What, is her name Emerald too? This an anime?
Chris stared at a little stream that went through the breach in the walls while contemplating his situation. He remembered reading somewhere that coma patients sometimes created their own world while they were comatose and imagined themselves living in it, so maybe this was the case. The man – now somehow physically a boy – didn't see any other explanation for his situation.
If I am in a coma, then there isn't any harm in wasting time in a fictional world then. I am curious as to what my mind will create.
After their face to face greeting, the boy learned that the girl's name was Mint as they sat down by the edge of the roof to talk.
"Seriously, Mint?" It was mostly to himself. My brain must be so original.
"What? A lot of people name their kids that way!"
After a bit of conversation where she warmed up to him, he found that she was made an orphan when her parents disappeared a few days ago.
"And they just left you?"
"Well, they said they had to do something really fast and left to the forest. Dad went first, but didn't come back." She frowned sadly at her feet. "Then mom went to check on him and didn't come back too. But I can't look for them… they told me to stay. I don't want to be a bad girl."
Chris hoped they were alive, but from the sound of it…
Being a foreigner, the villagers had also kicked her out. It had been a trying time for her. Luckily, an old man took pity on her and showed her a secret passage into the village, which he uses to offer her food and water. Shelter was easily found in the form of all the rundown houses in the outer circle.
Chris was alarmed when he heard about the old man, but supposedly Mint didn't have to do anything in return, so he reserved his judgement for now.
When Mint in return asked him about his origins, he wasn't sure what to say and quickly made up a story about poisonous mushrooms and amnesia. Mint just nodded through his explanation. He had a feeling that she didn't understand a lot of the words he used, and in return, also didn't understand the story. And that was fine, it was one of the reasons why he used such big words.
"Yeah! Um-eat-a! Yeah, that would suck to have it."
"No, it's um-knee-tia."
"Yeah, that thing. The thing that I know what it is."
"…which is?"
"The thing. Uh. It's like… if you had a big bro and he had a baby girl."
"…are you talking about a niece?"
It was strange that she wasn't more suspicious of him. A lone little girl – a pretty one too – would have attracted all the wrong kind of attention; her parents really should have warned her about strangers.
Then again, Chris thought, I don't think they expected their own disappearance either. They probably thought they could protect her for a bit longer.
Taking all that into consideration, Mint had been immensely lucky the past few days. The act of pushing her out of the village removed her from possible harm from the paranoid villagers and the only person who had been willing to reach out seemed to be doing it in good faith.
Chris had also learned from the girl that the villagers were almost always within their walls. Mint had only ever seen one person exit. She told Chris that the only way to get food and water was from the old man through a secret passageway. It brought to question how the villagers got food, and if they received shipments of food, what could they even produce in a such a small rural village that was good enough to trade for the food?
Also, why did they have to stay within their walls? Was there something dangerous outside? That was a question that he needed an answer soon, seeing as how Chris was seemingly a child now and his only ally was a little girl. They would both be defenceless out here, even so more dangerous if Chris was left in the dark for much longer; how could he plan to save them both if he didn't even know what he was up against? So Chris asked her about it.
"Well, yes, of course! The Grimm!" Mint answered him. "Duh!"
Chris stared at her.
She looked sheepish. "Right… the knee-tia thingy. Uhhhh, well, they are like big, big, big," she waved her arms around and puffed up her rosy cheeks to emphasize the size, " biiiggg monsters that walk around outside the cities. Huntsmen kill them!"
Chris looked at her as if she had grown a second head, but she was too engrossed in her description to notice the look he was giving her.
"They are really big, bad, and scary! They are black and have white things on them, and nobody knows where they have come from. The Grimm are very strong, but not as strong as a huntsman! I wanna be one of them, - a huntsmen that is, not a monster, nobody wants to be a monster – but mom and – " She stopped and looked down at her toes. Her hands started to fidget. Her face downcast. "…and dad didn't want me to." She whispered the last part.
The boy didn't know what to say and sat silently beside her. He was certain he was supposed to say something.
Mint' hands tightened into fists. There seemed to be some part of her that knew what must have happened to her parents.
"…I'm…" Chris tried, but his voice felt suddenly dry and unused, even if he hadn't spent the last few minutes talking. He was supposed to be used to loss, but maybe being in this dream world had made him more susceptible to emotions. "I'm sorry."
If I'm in a coma, and this is my mind, then maybe this is how I'm dealing with everything. Telvinder, sis, the terrorism… maybe I'm finally facing these issues head on. Is Mint some representation of an aspect of myself?
The girl sniffled beside him, ignorant of his inner thoughts, but shed no tear.
"A – anyways, Chris – I still say that's a more stupider name than Mint – what will you do now?" She wiped her eyes with her slightly dirty right hand as she turned to face him.
"No wait, let me ask you anot – " He wanted to ask about the Grimm.
"Na-uh! I answered a lot of yours, my turn to ask stuff!"
Chris sighed. "Alright." A fair exchange.
"Yay! So what will you do now? Are you staying here with me?"
According to his story, he was an orphan from another village who went too hungry one day and ate some bad mushrooms, and the next thing he knew he was in this village with people chasing him. Very unlikely story, but it seemed that Mint trusted others very easily.
"Well, it's not like I'll be able to enter this village and ask for directions. They seem to hate every stranger."
"Yes!" The girl cheered.
Chris quickly pressed on with another question. "If there are these monsters around, why have none attacked us? I don't see any of these 'huntsmen' around to protect us." Can't be made up, she seems pretty sane, and she is not that young.
"Well… uh… lemme remember. I think at school they said that Grimm are attracted only when we are really sad, really angry, or… oh this was on a test last month…" She squinted her eyes in thought. "…feeling really bad? Yeah I think I did bad on that test." Her eyes suddenly widened and she sat straight. "Ugh… My friends also think I'm dead!"
"On that note, why haven't you gone back home? Why haven't you been taken care of by the authorities, the government? Or call other relatives? There has to be some way for you to contact help, isn't there?"
"Well, the Kingdoms don't do much outside of their big cities. Something about not enough money – which must be a lie! I heard they get millions every month! And I don't have a scroll to call for help, and I don't think the villagers will allow us to use theirs."
Chris realized that he forgot something very obvious. He was too used to the government back in his old home, where there was child protection services, free healthcare, and help was merely one call away. However, that did not mean every single government was like that. It was possible that in this world he was imagining, the government reflected the lawlessness he had lived through during his past grueling five years.
"Alright. Do you at least know if your relatives will be looking for you?"
Mint looked unsure. "Me and my parents were trying to get to Vacuo through this route that used much less money. Mom was worrying because of how dangerous this area was. There's also a lot of places where scrolls can't get signal," she noticed his inquiring look, "Scrolls are like little boxes you can talk to people on, and play video games. Anyways, we haven't been able to call the rest of my family for a few days. I'm sure they are looking… but it's a big place and I also don't want them hurt." She looked at her feet.
"What about the old man?"
"Uh… oh right! He said that for a call that far away, he'd need to use the CCT tower – it's like a big tower that sends signals realllllyyyyy far. But theirs is old and all that, so the calls are extremely limited. He said he'll try to call, but he'll have to make up a good reason why to get priar… pri-or-ty, or wait a whole year."
"Priority."
"Yeah, that."
Chris took a moment to gather up his thoughts. So this world has gigantic monsters called Grimm that are attracted by negativity. They are everywhere. Mint here lost her parents to the forest. If she finds them, then maybe I can beg a favour and have them to take me to one of the big cities to find work. He looked at her thoughtfully.
"Think you get can me a meeting with this old man? I'll try and see if I can get some equipment from him to start hunting and winning our bread. With enough money, I could arm myself and then try to find your parents."
"Really Chris?" She turned to him, her eyes wide with hope. "I do want mom and dad, but… I don't want to lose another person too…"
He smiled. "Don't worry, maybe you'll hate me in a few days time. Then you won't be sad if I'm gone." He chuckled at the end, but it sounded empty to himself. Oh man, I sound like an angsty fifteen year old.
"But Chris, you seem like a good person! You want to help me!"
He replied by putting on a melancholic smile, but didn't say more. "So, meeting?"
"Ah, yes, this way! I think it's almost time for my next visit too!"
~The Path Most Traveled~
"…this is because I called your name stupid, isn't it?" mumbled Chris.
He was crawling through a narrow underground passage behind Mint, who was leading from the front. It smelled cool and earthly. There was no light, so the two could only feel their way forward.
It turned out that there was a secret entrance leading to numerous underground passages. The path to get to it was through one of the collapsed houses. They had to fit through many tight crevices on the way before they could get to the hidden trapdoor. On top of that, the trapdoor itself was hidden away beneath many layers of cloth and broken wooden parts. It was well hidden.
"Uh… no…?" came the sheepish reply.
Chris sighed. At least he now knew why her clothes were so faded. She must have explored these passages and gotten dust and dirt all over herself. It was surprising that he was even able to make out the green.
"By the way, there's also a metal thing in the roof."
"What?" Chris asked as he hit said metal thing straight on. "Ow!"
Mint continued forward. "Uhhhhhh, sorry, I meant the ceiling. He he. My bad."
He glared at her, but she wouldn't have been able to see the glare even if she had been looking at him. The boy rubbed his head using one arm and used the other to feel for any more low hanging metal.
They continued crawling for a while longer, and Chris indeed found more of the weird metal things on the way. With his hands and not his head this time. He couldn't tell what they were exactly, except for guessing that they were containers of sorts. He decided he'd have a look again if he ever found a flashlight. They could be just some things leftover from the city infrastructure.
Finally, light started to seep in, showing that they were nearing the exit. They crawled out moments later into a brightly lit room, and Chris had to squint his eyes to let them adjust.
When he could see again, he found that they were in some kind of small cube-like metal room. There was a door, but no handle. Behind him were entrances to many more tunnels, though it appeared the tunnel Mint took him through had been the smallest one.
Wait, what is that in the top right corner? Some – he thought as he patted away the dust on him.
"And then I knock on the door and he'll come and get it!" Mint moved to do as she said, but the door opened by itself and revealed the old man.
The old man was dressed in a lazy knitted sweater, some grey warm pants and a pair of cozy black slippers. His face was rugged and had just as many scars as it had wrinkles, with the white color of his hair showing additionally his age. He was scowling at Chris. In his hands was a shotgun.
"Min'! Wha' ha' ah said 'bout bringing s'rangers in here!" He then turned and yelled at Chris in an almost stereotypical old geezer voice. "Get out or ah will make you get out!"
Mint rushed to stand in front of Chris protectively. "No! Stop, M. Magpie! He's not bad like the other one! He doesn't know where his mom and dad are either, just like me!"
"Ha! Another lie to get in our walls!" He seemed completely unconvinced.
Chris didn't know what to say, especially in front of a shotgun. He took a few steps back. "Uh… sir… if you don't want me here, that's alright, but I – "
"GET OUTTA MAH HOUSE YAH TROUBLEMAKAH!"
The boy stumbled backwards from the yell and scrambled backwards as the old man took threatening steps forward. Mint started to feel a bit desperate and waved her arms around, trying to defuse the situation.
"M. Magpie! He just wants something to fish with!" The old man paused and looked at Mint. "He wants to work so that we can both get out of here! Also, so that we can – "
Before she could finish her sentence, the old man had come to a conclusion, and he exited the room. The door slammed shut behind him.
Chris stared at Mint, who stared at the door. They were both stunned.
Then the door opened again. A bundle the size of a beach ball flew out, hitting Chris straight in the face, knocking him down. The door closed.
"Ow… why in the face again…" He mumbled as he lay on the ground. Luckily, it seemed to be patted, so the impact didn't do much damage to the food. Nor to his skull.
Mint walked to take the package from the ground. She smiled sheepishly. "Looks like M. Magpie doesn't really like you…" She received a glare back and winced. "…are you alright?"
He stayed on the ground. "I think I'll lie here for a bit." Chris felt like he had gotten three heart attacks in quick succession, and all within the past minute.
~The Path Most Traveled~
A while later, they were back in the outer circle of the city. Chris, being the larger of the two, was carrying the bundle.
"Did he give you the big fishing rod? I remember a giant one he had hanging on the wall from the last time I was there! It was very big and pretty! And high tech too! It had an aiming thing, and a rocket powered hook, and a…"
"No."
Mint paused in her walking. She pouted at him. "Aren't you fun. You are like a really boring grownup!" She widened her eyes and tried to look sad. "Be funner pleaseee? It was just a joke!"
Her companion took one look at her, sighed, before continuing on without another word. His lack of a response made Mint pout harder. She followed in his footsteps, dejected.
If this really was a coma world, then Chris didn't want to wake up. The meeting with the old man reminded him that he wasn't just dreaming. He had created a completely new world in his head! The sensation of pain, the smell of the tunnels, the sheer exasperation he could feel in relation to Mint… it all felt so real.
The hatred for strangers the villagers had displayed was weird, but understandable if the bandits really did exist. One would have thought that in a world besieged by monsters, humanity would band closer together, however it appeared not so.
Still, the important point was, the elder and the villagers didn't hate him because of some action he'd done in the past. In this made up world, it was as if he was starting anew. He could try to make up for the mistakes he had made. It wouldn't be real, but it would feel good. Feel real good. But did he really want to commit himself to a fake world?
On the other hand, I am not sure what I am living for in the real world. Maybe time here will give me an answer? What if my subconscious is trying to tell me something here? Is this how comas work?
He stared straight ahead. No answers came to him.
Mint still followed him a few steps behind, arms crossed and pouting.
While he didn't know what was exactly going on, he could work on the present. First, if he helped the girl, he could learn more about this strange world. Through her connection with the old man, he could get help for his immediate survival, and maybe even get to civilisation. Get a normal job. Start helping people. Real help. Root for equality or something. Become a rescue helicopter driver. A fireman.
Hm. Mint. When he leaves, should he bring her? Well, the girl was not that important anyways. Chris has used enough people and discarded even more. What's one more girl, for a new beginning? If he sees a way to save both of them, he decides that he will. But nothing more. He can't help anyone if he is dead, after all.
Yes. That sounds like a plan. One life for many.
"Forgive me, my Lord." He mumbled under his breath.
Once they arrived on the roof, Chris sat down in the center of the space and opened the pack to Mint's excited encouragement. She never knew what she would get from the bundles, and this time, there would be extra items because of Chris.
Chris took out the first item.
"A folding bucket? For the fish?"
"Yes. It will be helpful."
He reached in for more.
"A tube of string?!"
"It's a spool of fishing line."
"Oh! And this! It's… a pair of scissors?"
"No Mint… it's a fishing line cutter. It also has many other features, like this compass here. It can also become a screwdriver if I move these parts around… Like a swiss army knife." Chris made the pocket tool transform into a few different forms. He noted that it was made of some strange, most likely cheap, metal-plastic composite.
"Wow! It's like those weapons the huntsmen use!"
"And that's it for the tools."
"What do you mean that's it?!" Mint walked closer to rummage through the bag. "But how will you fish with just lines!" She puffed up her cheeks, getting angry in his stead.
Chris tried to keep up the poker face he'd had on for the past few minutes, but ultimately failed. He cracked a smile. She was so childish. "Mint, don't worry. I can work with this." He reassured, confident in his own skills. He had to fish for food many times, once even with a spear. "At least he trusted me enough with the utility gear – the scissors – it's already a big help." He put everything back, except for the spool of fishing line and the tool, which he laid on the floor. "I need some kind of branch to start."
"I have one branch." Came a voice, followed by some quiet movement. "You can choose where you want the branch to hit, bandits!"
Chris and Mint turned their heads to see a few teenage boys blocking the stairs. They dressed in old grey, but functional clothing, just like the others from the village. Each was skinny and armed with weapons ranging from a branch to long ranged weapons like a bow.
The one in front, wielding the only pistol, glared at the branch-wielder. "You fucking idiot! I could have shot them using dad's pistol before they even knew we were here!"
"Ah, sorry boss, but I wanted my one liner!"
Chris narrowed his eyes. He kept his hands in sight as not to alarm them, but shuffled his body so that he may spring into action at any time. His eyes darted around and analysed deeper his environment. A rock there, if thrown by a boy, would knock out a human if it hit the skull - and it would deal a sizeable trauma if it hit the chest. It was only a few meters away .
No wind, Chris took note next. He needed dust or sand, just some kind of powder, that he could throw into the attacker's eyes. Very close and within reach. The stairs themselves weren't too far away, and he could sprint to the boys in a very short amount of time. "Why are you attacking us? Who are you?"
"Ha! We are the Doom Squad!" The leader declared, pointing his pistol to the ground so that he could make a pose. His gang followed up with similar cheesy poses. "My father might not have caught you, but I, the great Captain Iris, has done what he could not! We will deal justice upon you little shits like you, girly, who have sabotaged our glorious walls – "
Huh, Mint did something to them, or at least they think she did, Chris realized. There could be more to her story than just been kicked out. I'll ask her later.
"…nd they haven't done a thing! Can you believe those adults, always…"
Chris blinked. It looked like the leader was currently doing a dramatic monologue. The sitting boy looked behind the leader and found that all his minions (Chris counted three) were nodding along with almost equal enthusiasm. The lone boy started to sweat-drop at their interactions, but knew this was his chance.
In one fluid movement, his left hand threw the dust into the boys' eyes, and his right arm pushed Mint away, before he rolled to the boys' right. Mint fell over onto her back with an 'eep' that went unheard under all the surprised shouts of the four boys. They rubbed at their eyes, some of them dropping their weapons. Chris took advantage and sprinted towards them. He took out his knife.
Wait, no, if I kill them the villagers may start hunting us for real.
A split second before he could slit the leader's throat, he twisted the knife so that the pommel hit first. His target choked from the blow. Swiftly, Chris yanked the pistol from him and kicked him into his friends before he could even put his arms around his neck. They lost balance and all fell backwards, becoming a ball of twisted limbs and screams. Chris lost sight of them as they fell off the stair's turn, but heard the thump as they landed on the ground.
"Mint! Get up!" He commanded her, and she broke out of her surprised trance to scramble to her feet. "Put everything back in the bag and run! I'll catch up!" He ran after the boys and jumped off the ledge, not waiting for her response.
The building they were on was only about two stories high. The turn in the stairs was about halfway, so Chris fell only one story down. He landed deftly on his feet, bending his knees to absorb the shock, beside the boys who were struggling to disentangle themselves from each other. Each of them groaning in pain.
Chris looted what he could off them - they were too disoriented to resist. Then, after going through their pockets, he looked around for Mint and ran after her, leaving the "Doom Squad" mostly intact. Their parents would surely not be happy they had lost a gun.
Mint opened her mouth to say something as he caught up beside her, but he shushed her. "We don't want them to know which direction we went. Let's go further, but remember, if you want to talk, murmur." He whispered. "Also, package?"
She showed him the bundle in her arms. "Got it, don't worry," she whispered back. "You stole all their stuff?" The girl stared at all the things he was holding in his own arms. There was the gun, the ammo pouch for it, the stick, some candy bars, a butter knife, a bow, and some arrows in a quiver. "Wow, you are so awesome… everything that just happened… wow, you are like a superhero…" Her expression reflected her awe.
He smiled back.
~The Path Most Traveled~
The black haired woman lounged backwards on the top of her sleeping bag, eyelids closed over red eyes. The woman wore a shallow cut black and red dress. An armored girdle belt went around her waist. Her onyx sheath, and her sword, lay hazardly sideways on the crowded stolen fancy night table beside her. She grimaced.
She was alone in her tent. All around her she was surrounded by a large assortment of stolen goods in various crates, from tacky chalices to a box of her favorite band of beef jerky on the side. It made sense, as she was a bandit. It was basically her job to relieve people of their things, and she was damn good at her job.
However, those were not skills that she needed. What she needed…
Her hands tightened into fists.
"Raven!" One of her underlings entered the tent. He was a man of average features dressed in a stolen washed out shirt and pants, easily forgettable. "Vernal is ba…" He suddenly stopped.
The tip of a crimson blade hovered over his larynx. So close that the dust on the blade was primed by his aura. He held his breath, not daring to breathe.
Raven Branwen glared him down, holding the sword outstretched and in midst of its sword form. She pulled her blade back a little. "Yes?"
If he was a lesser man, he would be shaking. "Sorry boss woman, but Vernal is back from her mission, and I thought that you would like to know…"
The bandit leader swiped her blade to the side, sending the dust to ignite harmlessly in mid air, before sheathing it. Coincidentally, it was right by the man who interrupted her rest. He took a surprised step back.
"You thought well. Tell her to come to me if she is unhurt."
The bandit knew not to show weakness. He nodded, patting away a few stray embers that had landed on himself, and left as confidently as he could.
She stared at his retreating back in contemplation. He did not mention the others she had sent with Vernal.
Good.
The woman turned back to her bedside to pick-up her leggings and boots and proceeded to get dressed.
When the little seven year old Vernal entered the tent, Raven had moved to her table. It was low and stylized, made to be kneeled at. Surrounding her were traditional Branwen tapestries mixed in with stolen ones. She was meditating, though her eyes opened the moment the flaps of the tent at the entrance were parted.
"Vernal. Report."
"Complete success," the child said as arrogantly as a seven year old could. "There are three turrets on the left of the villa…"
"The important things first, Vernal."
"Deader than dust."
Raven smiled, and it had teeth. "Well done."
Vernal puffed up her chest in response, feeling warm at being praised. "Ah… Raven, I ha' a question though…"
"Speak. Do not waste my time."
"Sorry." The child tried to squash down all her fear. "But why did they have to die? They may be a bit ruthless, but they were still tribesmen…"
Raven gave a chuckle at her naivety. "Vernal, Vernal." She said condescendingly. "The Branwen tribe, above all else, respects strength. All kinds of strength. Be it physical strength." In one swift motion, she stabbed her sword straight through the carpet and about a foot of earth. Vernal jumped in surprise. "Spiritual strength." Her other hand raised above the table and formed into a fist. Aura concentrated so hard it became visible. "Or mental strength." She let go of her sword and stopped focussing her aura. "However, many people tend to forget the last kind. Can you guess what it is?"
Vernal blinked. "Uh… strength of will?"
"No. That can be classified under spiritual strength. The last one is strength of unity." Raven motioned at the rest of the bandit camp that they could see through the open tent flap. "Television shows of the weak city folk harp on about friendship and love, but that is not all wrong. United, strong men can become even stronger. A spear may hold one person at bay, but a phalanx can hold armies. The two I sent with you, however, were weak links. One was weak in body, the other weak in mind. A chain only breaks at its weakest link… so I removed them."
Vernal nodded, following the logic.
"Now, Vernal, it leaves you as the weakest."
The child struggled to keep herself composed underneath Raven's intense gaze.
"I do hope, for your sake, that it won't be forever." Raven brushed a lock aside. "Now leave me. I have more important matters to attend to."
Something about amber...
A/N (December 2nd, 2018): Is she supposed to be likeable? Maybe. However, she is… yeah you get it.
Old A/N: Is he supposed to be likeable? Not really. However, he is supposed to be relatable. Unsure of how well I'm doing on that front.