With nothing to do but rest, her body still aching from her brief interaction with The Radiance, Dragoon was left to think on what she had learned while Grimm returned to the Nightmare Realm to assess the damage and shore up his defences in preparation for the journey to Hallownest.
"There will come a time where I will be unable to manifest in the physical realm without aid, so rest while you can Dear One." Grimm had said before he left.
More than used to long periods of isolation, the dragonfly meditated, sitting silent and still in her next of blankets and cushions as she went over recent events. She had been hasty, in both denouncing Grimm's Ritual, and in her own attempts to solve the problem in the first place. Too eager to help, too used to acting quickly to survive, and she had paid the price for her decision. The Nightmare Realm, a warzone, a land devastated by burning fury stuck out in her thoughts.
She wasn't the only one that had paid a price for her misstep. Grimm had been forced to intervene to save her life and she wouldn't know how badly his realm had been hit until he returned. For all she had learned, all she had strived to be, Dragoon thought that, perhaps she was looking at this all wrong.
Perhaps this wasn't just a feud between gods. Maybe it was one being encroaching on the territory of the other, if she thought of The Nightmare Realm as a kingdom, as a place, then things began to make more sense. Soul Bearers nurtured, they revived and enriched the world around them one small step at a time. Patience was a necessity, a virtue she had overlooked when dealing with all of this.
The Ritual was a quick fix at best, a way to transfer and store enough Nightmare Essence to repair the damage done, but there was clearly a limit to how much could be done as things currently stood. And as she looked at the situation from the perspective of a land in need of care, Dragoon had only more questions than answers.
And there was yet another consequence of her actions she was unsure of, her now permanent telepathic bond to Grimm. She could still feel his presence in her mind, though not focused on her at the moment, more of a vague sense of a link than open communication, and it would be comforting if it weren't for the circumstances by which they had become bound to one another. Her rescue had resulted in The Nightmare King placing his own connection to her when he severed the link The Radiance had to her, a subconscious reaction rather than a deliberate choice on his part.
Tentatively, she poked at the link, sending thoughts of curiosity and her recent ponderings towards her mate. Grimm sent back an image of a small larvae bearing his features, how it grew as it consumed nightmare essence until…
Burn the Father, Feed the Child…
An image of The Nightmare King's crimson form bursting into red flames at the centre of the nightmare heart, the Nightmare Realm snapping back into an untouched state, unharmed by the golden light of its counterpart.
Dragoon replied with an image of the same child, growing less rapidly, of essence being collected gradually, eased out of bugs, of the realm healing over time.
Of white soul burning red, offered willingly, and a sense of fierce defiance towards The Radiance.
You would be willing? Grimm asked, an undercurrent of concern to his thoughts as the echo of The Radiance's roar played out between them.
She showed him an image of the two seals that bound her power. The first, an image of a waterfall over the chitin that covered her left eye socket. The second, an egg wrapped in reeds that was emblazoned on her underside.
The true extent of my abilities lies sealed away for my own safety and peace of mind… A facet of myself I have yet to face.
She showed him what the seals felt like, like her will was tempered and held back, a boulder stopping a river from flowing. And to her surprise, Grimm showed her the intricate bindings that kept his power locked within his mortal shell, a fire within a lantern, sputtering and flaring wildly.
She got the sense that his seals would be far more dangerous to break, her thoughts confirmed when she received an image of every tree within The Nightmare Realm lit with crimson flames.
What is nightmare essence? What does it represent? She asked.
What she got an answer was less a defined thing but more of a loose collection of ideas and concepts.
Fear, sorrow, rage, pain, intensity, passion, instinct, Wild. A maze, a whirlwind, a pit, an inferno, a jumbled haze. Of helplessness, of courage.
Thousands of different things flittered through their bond, but one thing stood out amongst it all.
Intensity, passion, emotion.
The level of extreme, heightened emotions inherent to nightmares drew her attention. Reminded her of the intensity of Grimm's courting display when first stepping into his realm, the burning pain of The Radiance's fury and her own anger and defiance.
A test. She suggested and gathered her focus, pooling soul into her cupped hands. Grimm watched her through the bond, radiating caution. She obliged him, carefully concentrating on her own protective fury, her defiance towards The Radiance, and her budding loyalty to Grimm.
That meagre amount of power wasn't enough, she steadily called upon more of her will, more of her strength. She looked down to see a small red flame crackling in her hands. Bolstered by her success she let it grow, becoming a ball of fire that lit the room in a red light. A dull ache began to form in her head and wings, her seals straining themselves in warning, and she stopped. Dragoon held the flame in her hands as Grimm appeared in his signature flash of red smoke.
The Troupe Master collected the flame from her, holding it in his hands as he inspected it. A beat later he nodded approvingly.
"Your prior teachings serve you well Dear One, though small, this flame shall be the forge for our weapon against The Radiance," he said and store the fireball within the confines of his cloak. He sat down beside her. "How do you fare after that little test?"
She hummed in thought. "No better nor worse than before… Nightmare Essence appears to be all or nothing, as opposed to Dream Essence. An interesting distinction."
"Is that so?" Grimm asked, looking at her intrigued.
She nodded. "How to word it… when I conjured Dream Essence, it was a confined to only what I wanted it to be, content with where I had it until The Radiance intervened. In contrast, Nightmare Essence doesn't take to the limitations of my current state, it seeks my full power."
"It embodies the most intense emotional states, one's will at its most wild and frenzied," Grimm said. "Control of it demands all of your will or it will refuse to heed your call. It's power so great that it often changes the beings that prove successful in commanding it. I had mortal followers in ages past the were scholars of nightmare essence, accomplished sages of my realm and they were blessed by my power, turned into beings somewhere between mortal and of The Nightmare Realm."
Grimm sighed. "As much as it pains me to admit it, we are running out of time. Our combined resistance against my sister has only stirred her ire even more and I fear the vessel that contains her will begin to fail."
Dragoon leaned up against him, grasping a hand in hers, she gave it a comforting squeeze. "I believe I was a fool when we first met."
"You are a drahka, a Soul Bearer, it is in your nature to value the lives of offspring, potential or otherwise." Grimm reminded her gently.
"And yet I failed to see the scope of things," she argued. "Torn between the fear I would lose what freedom my duty gives me and wanting to follow my instincts to help I was too wrapped up in own perceptions to see the truth. You won't survive if we don't attempt The Ritual as it currently is. If we are to change it, we must do so gradually over time by first ensuring you can live long enough to see The Radiance's demise."
"I am not as fragile as you seem to think." Grimm stated. Dragoon let go of his hand and scuttled into his lap.
"You are willingly facing harm by indulging my rashness," she countered. "A mistake on my part, one that I will correct."
She sent her worry to him through their bond, her own feelings of concern, of helplessness, of guilt. They had delayed things long enough. "A Grimmchild will bolster your chances of making it through this, yes?"
"I am not dying, Love. She hasn't broken through yet." Grimm assured her.
"But she could, couldn't she?"
"I do have one other measure of defines against her," Grimm said. "I can seal The Nightmare Realm off from this world, and her reach for a time, until I am summoned to a kingdom by one of the Troupe."
"And?" she promoted.
"To do so requires the first stage of The Ritual to be completed, the birth of a Grimmchild," he explained. "If you were to attune yourself to me, to The Nightmare Heart, you could summon me to Hallownest… the troupe member I sent there some time ago has ling since perished and the Nightmare Beacon remains unlit."
"What do you suggest we do?" she asked. "This is your realm at stake."
Grimm rumbled, a low croon that reverberated in his chest. Flashes of love and desire danced through their link, a protectiveness far fiercer than Dragoon's own.
"We begin The Ritual, we cement our union as mates through it, and then I will forge you a weapon capable of protecting you in both the waking world and in dreams whilst you care for the child," he decided. "Once our child has grown enough to travel, I will seal myself and my realm away and you will head to Hallownest to begin freeing the inhabitants from their dreams."
"And summon you once I reach the kingdom?" she asked, and he nodded.
"We will cleanse the land of her infection, Free the poor Vessel that binds her, and slay my sister," Grimm stated. "I will take her realm as my prize and restore the delicate balance between dreams and nightmares."
Grimm looked down at her, red eyes alight with compassion. "But your health must be ensured first before we can begin, I will take you to the Soul Spring and we shall see if its waters can help you recover faster."
Dragoon did not escape The Radiance unscathed.
This was proven all the more true once Grimm teleported them to the spring and her eye stung with pain, blinded by the light from the spring and the plants. She screwed her eye shut and pressed her face against the crimson chitin of her mate's chest.
Grimm let out a growl in displeasure in response, wrapping his cloak around her to ease her discomfort.
"That witch…" he growled, and she heard him teleport them to another location. She hesitantly lifted her head to be greeted with the sight of the inside of the tent.
Grimm held her against his chest as he stalked though the corridor to the back rooms. He walked into a room that had carious workstations, pieces of equipment, and materials ranging from wood to cloth organized in piles scattered around the room. A few Grimmkin hovered about as they dropped off supplies.
Grimm gently set the dragonfly down onto a raised platform of some kind and walked over to the pile of cloth with purpose. Dragoon watched her mate paw through the pile of cloth, pulling out different reams of material, eyeing them, and them tossing them back into the pile with a displeased look. After a moment he pulled out some thick, dark red material with satisfaction. With a pleased hum, the Troupe Master tucked the roll of cloth under an arm as he walked over to a workstation and grabbed a sewing kit from a shelf. When he walked back over to her, Dragoon tilted her head in confusion.
At her confusion, Grimm smirked. "Your photosensitivity is a permanent scar left behind from my sister's attempt to kill you. It can't be healed, but I will make you attire capable of filtering out the worst of it."
Dragoon hadn't been fitted for clothes since her ceremonial robes for completing her training seasons ago, long before she left her homeland. So, it was a novel experience as she posed for Grimm as he took measurements and became so thoroughly engrossed in the project that she found enjoyment in simply watching him. Afterwards, he pulled out some parchment and a bright red quill and took a seat next to her as he began to draw a rough draft of what he had in mind.