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Grimm

by Tempestpegasus

Chapter 1

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Grimm: Chapter 1

Remember…..

It all started with the apocalypse. I had been living with my parents, my mother a loving, caring person, my father a strong, fearless one. My mother had taught me everything she could, but it was really my father who stood out. He was the one who taught me the art of survival. How to fight.

When I had reached the age of fourteen and had my annual day of meditation, my father approached me and my siblings the day after while we were doing our schooling. My brother and two sisters were sitting silently beside me, as well as my cat, Locksley, who was almost as large as I was. The sun reflected down on his freshly burnished armor and Sword. He motioned for me to follow him and strode back toward our house. I put down my school writing tablet and followed without hesitation.

We came into our small home, which was being swept by our always busy mother. She smiled happily at my father and he solemnly nodded in return, a small smile creeping across his hardened face. He motioned for me to wait in the living room. As I sat down on the rough carpet with Locksley, who had followed me in, thoughts were racing through my head. I remembered then my father had said, "When your mind is spinning, think on nothing. Clear your mind for a moment and allow yourself to listen. Heed what is happening around you, and be silently alert for the slightest movements."

I closed my eyes and placed my hands together, my fingers interlocking. And I listened. After a few moments, I could hear my father rummaging through something in his room. I could hear each stoke of the coarse straw broom as it pushed all of the dust off of the uneven floor. I heard my siblings writing on their tablets outside. I stayed silent until my father came out of the room and motioned for me to follow him.

We went out into our backyard, which had some sparse trees and grass. We lived at the foothills of the mountains, and my father had cut down most of the wood for building purposes. I could see the town in the distance, and people bustling in and out on their daily business. I looked to the side and the earth began a slow rise until you saw the mountains. Tall and majestic they stood, ever since we had chosen to build our home here.

I looked back to my father, who had put down the medium-sized chest he had carried out, as well as a something long and slim, wrapped in green cloth. He placed these both down and turned to me. I stood about five foot four and had semi-short brown hair at the time. I remember it like it was yesterday.

My father had asked me if I wanted to learn the way of the warrior. I had nodded solemnly and had knelt as he blessed me and prayed to the gods for my strength and wisdom in my choices. As I stood, he removed the items from the chest. It seemed like two arm-length gloves with short claws on the fingers and glass in the palms. I took them and looked at my father curiously.

He explained that these were the weapons of the modern soldier. They were mechanical volt weapons. As I slid them onto my arms, they seemed to be meant for me. My father told me to spread my fingers and pull the small trigger inside the glove.

He had set up a few large targets made of wood scattered around the yard. I took aim at one with one hand, and fired. The glove hummed to life and spat out a flurry of cyan-blue volts. As the first volt spattered against the wood, it seemed to explode and melt a large crater in the wood. As the rest of the volts followed, the wood soon became littered with pocket-marks and smoking holes. And it had only been one burst.

Father had laid his hand on my shoulder and said, "These weapons are very powerful, my son. You must choose to use them for justice or for your own gain." He then asked me if I liked them. I nodded and then asked, "Father, what is in the other chest?"

He smiled as he stood up and said, "You shall see. Take off the Volts and I will show you." I complied, placing them neatly in the grass and standing up to face my father as he handed me another weapon of the clerics.

A Cleric's Staff. They were known by all, and used by few. I had never thought of ever using one, but earlier I had been brought before an Elder of the village. He had tested me in a variety of ways and pronounced me different from the other boys. He brought me into further testing to find that I had magical abilities. In these days, it was extremely rare for this to happen. My father's grandfather had wielded the Cleric's staff for a time, but he had passed away some time ago.

As my father placed the worn staff into my hands, I felt a rush of power flow through my veins. I whipped around and held the staff erect in my right hand, my left arm outstretched. The staff lit up and my hand started to glow. It became brighter until the staff sent a green surge to my clenched hand, and when I opened it a green ball of fire appeared above it. I concentrated for a moment and then launched a fireball at one of the targets.

It exploded upon impact, sending wooden chunks everywhere. After it had settled again, I launched in rapid succession a fireball at each of the remaining targets. Each hit its mark, enveloping the wood in a green flame and bursting it apart. The staff slowly lost its glow and my hand returned to normal.

My father nodded in approval and then asked me which of these I would have. I looked at the staff, and at the Volts. As I looked at Father, He understood. He picked up the Volts and handed them to me, saying, "My son, I give you these weapons to do as you please. Only remember this…" He looked at me with his intense Eyes. "I have bestowed these weapons of power upon you, and it is your choice whether you will use them for Virtuous deeds, or corrupt exploitations.

He smiled at me and excused me from the rest of the day's work to test my weapons and get used to them. My father and I would frequently spar, and he would teach me different defensive and offensive moves. My siblings would sometimes watch and cheer me on. I progressed far with both weapons, eventually holding small competitions with the village boys.

One of the things that I learned to do was give an animal the ability to speak to people telepathically. Since their mouths were not made to formulate words, Telepathic speaking was the next best thing. I came to Locksley one day while he leapt from stump to stump in our backyard for exercise. He came down and rubbed up against me, purring contently. His fur glistened with sweat as he shook himself, tired from his arduous training.

I closed my eyes and concentrated for a moment, and a small trace of power crept from my staff and into Locksley's Brain. After I had finished, he looked at me for a moment in silence. I thought "I wonder if it worked…" and Locksley immediately answered "Did what work? I wonder what he's talking about." It was rather shocking at first, but we learned how to hide our personal thoughts from each other and speak easily. Also, when he spoke, anyone near us could hear it in our heads. Our bond of friendship was strengthened each day.

Not too shortly afterwards, The Renegade tribe attacked the fortress outside the city. They were a tribe who had been deemed unfit to live with us anymore. They were humans, but they wanted to be different from us. More independent. My father was called back into active duty to help with the defense of our city, and I remember the day he left us.

He sat in the living room and gave us all a kiss and a hug goodbye, and strapped on his armor and his sword, Fuerza, meaning Strength. He pulled me aside for the last time, and looking deep into my eyes he told me to protect my mother with everything I had.

Then he left.

The war raged for almost a whole year. We sought as much news as we could from the front lines. My father was one of the few men who helped to lead the army. He was injured few times, and each time he was back into the Frey as fast as he had been brought out.

But then it all changed when he died.

It had devastated all of us. It left us with no sense of purpose, no will to continue on. But it wasn't very long until we were given one. After Father died, the Renegades were empowered and pushed through the last of the defenses around the fortress. Now they were headed for the city. I felt that it was my duty to finish what my father had started. I bade my mother farewell, and after many tears I departed with my ever faithful cat, Locksley.

I headed towards the city with magic empowering my legs and Lock galloping lithely beside me. When we arrived, they had already brought the other village boys together in the square. I went up to the commanding officer and requested permission to be the leader of the village boys. I knew them all very well from our sparring practice. He consented and I went back to the boys.

Then we waited.

We didn't have to wait long…

Only an hour after I had arrived we sighted the Renegade Tribe come towards the city. The boys and I were going to be attacking on the flank and to try to circle around, so we were hidden in the brush along the sidelines. The battle was ferocious. I don't have too much recollection of the battle except for the fact that I kept every last one of the Village boys alive. We worked together. We fought together.

We conquered together. With our help, we drove away the Renegade Tribe. We were hailed as heroes. But after that battle life went back to normal for a short time. We kept a fierce lookout for any more attacks, but eventually our guard was let down.

And one night I woke up in our house to screams in the distance.

The whole village was burnt to the ground, and nobody escaped. Luckily, we were far enough away that we had time to leave the house before we were killed. We hurriedly packed all the food we could fit into packs and fled up into the mountains to find my uncle who lived there. I believe that we were the only ones that survived that horrible night. We could hear screams echoing across the mountainside as we climbed out of reach of the Renegade Tribe.

But as we ran, we heard flapping, getting closer and closer. It get's blurry here, and I remember many flying monsters with Renegade tribe riding them landing and attacking us. I fought and destroyed each of them. But as I did, one snuck around behind me and went to attack me, but something happened. I had turned.

And I saw that it had something in its mouth.

I killed it and levitated the body out of its mouth onto the ground. My brothers and sisters all came out of hiding and explained that mother had tried to stop it from killing me. We formed a circle, our tears mingling as one as they fell on the ground. Time stood still as our life seemed to be torn away, shred by shred.

We gave her the best burial we could muster. I found a large piece of bark and inscribed upon it,

"Here lies our Mother"

"Here she gave her life for us."

"And here she shall lie until the end of time"

"And her dreams for us shall never turn to dust."

"Father, she died with the all the honor a mother should have."

"Your son, Grimm."

We continued on through the night until we reached our uncle's house. We stayed there with him, and helped him out by gathering food and firewood. Either My uncle or I was with the children at all times. The day after the village burnt Lock showed up at my uncle's house carrying the one thing I'd thought I'd never see again.

Father's sword.

As I uttered Lock's name, he bounded over to me. We hugged tightly, and he handed the sword to me and said, "I found this on the battlefield. I thought you might want it" I grasped Father's sword and pulled it out. The blade was fresh, the edge keen. Father had always kept his sword ready. Just seeing it again brought tears to my eyes.

Lock had a bag attached to his back. He pulled it off and brought out some scrolls. They were Father's scrolls for learning all his moves and techniques. I vowed I would learn the sword and become like my Father.

After some time, I had learned the sword and brought it everywhere with me. I lived peaceably once more with my uncle.

Until the Renegade Tribe found us once more. I fought them off again, but they had become stronger. After we had built another small shack to live in, I began to train every day, perfecting my training and sparring with my brother and sisters, who I allowed use of my weapons from time to time. So when the Renegade Tribe came once more, we would fight them off together.

This went on for a time, and after a month had passed, we resolved to go and see if anyone had survived. I remember that we found a small village and moved there, and we all stayed hidden.

That's when I decided to go and defeat the Renegade Tribe for good.

My uncle and siblings tried to stop me, but I refused to live like this any longer. The night before I was to leave, the Renegade Tribe attacked. The whole village was razed to the ground. I fought side by side with my siblings and Locksley, but one by one….

They fell.

And when the dust had cleared…..

Locksley and I were the only ones standing.

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