This friend of mine, Sugoimasta69, has recently uploaded his story onto the site. It was also his birthday recently. He's also been linking my story in his author corners, so you know he be super chill. So go give him some love. G.R.I.M. - This Grim World of Ours

Perched on his shoulder was a guī-n’iǎo, an odd creature reared by the male faes as part of their elaborate coming-of-age ritual. The creature was a hybrid of a turtle and a bird, with an odd strain of feline thrown into the mix.

The guī-n’iǎo grew wary of the carnage around it and retreated its withered cat-face into its shell. The creature’s wings came together in a praying posture. Its claws tightened around its owner’s shoulder, ripping into skin. Fresh blood spilled and trickled down to his navel.

The fae traced the intricate patterns on his companion’s shell. He possessed the similar withered face, creases and folds lining every possible contour on his face. Yet, his body was strong — toned like a summer’s dawn and filled with strength. A thick mane of hair ran down his back in a single river down the middle. And nothing covered this sculpted torso, save for a pair of trousers fashioned from tree bark decorated with the ink of crushed insects, vibrant yellow and blue, snakes and turtles coiled in union.

“Brother,” a voice reminiscent of rain called out. The girl hid the entirety of her face behind a mask carved from the skull of an antelope skull — various simple flower designs marked the forehead in red. She was quite small, like a precious jewel, and trembled in place. It was not due to cold as the girl had on a dress woven from numerous flowers which emitted heat and casted an ember-glow to her being.

“Yes, dearest sister, striking snake to my jeweled-shell,” the fae responded and turned his attention to the girl; his face twisted into a smile, showing his cragged teeth.

The girl smoothed out her dress some and fiddled with her mask. The brother waited patiently. It was a surreal sight as the background consisted of a concerto of desperation, the worst of human nature.

“Must we kill them? Mother and father taught —”

“Us nothing, they taught us nothing,” the brother screeched and grabbed the frightened girl’s shoulders. Hearing the girl’s yelp, he blinked and removed his talons from her shoulders. He backed away and chuckled, a strained tinge to it. “Ah, sorry dearest sister. Your words brought out the dark one in me. Simply, do not ever mention our parents ever again — let the dead stay alive in memories and nothing more.”

The girl squeezed her hands into fists. “But then do we have to work demons, brother, o’ shield to my spear! Do we not disgrace our ancestors above in the ocean of stars with this blasphemy?”

The guī-n’iǎo peeked from its shell, yawned, and retreated back. The fae stroked the creature’s shell with a laugh. “Oh, sister, you are much too naive. I do not blame you — you are only 134 years of age. But you are still this nation’s, the Star-Jeweled Turtles’, flower. You must be our hope and thorns. If presented with an opportunity to regain our homeland, to become strong and powerful again, and to return our beauty — the flower’s beauty — again, only a fool would refuse.”

The girl tilted her head down at her feet. “But doing so would only further dirty our name.”

“Our name has been dirtied since that day the humans betrayed us all. And there is no hope of cleansing it. Humans will hunt us down if they catch sight of us, even if we live without weapons. Dearest sister, I do not wish to speak further. Especially on the field of war; go back to the caravan outside the city walls and wait, wait for the sun to announce our rebirth.”

The girl glanced once more at the brother and obediently went away. Her elongated ears drooped.

“Harsh. No? Yes.” A creature with two heads said as it emerged from the fae’s shadow.

The creature was thin, thin to the extent that it was indiscernible if viewed from its profile, and tall, tall to the quantity of a small tree, and it was in a constant bent downwards, forming a slope with his spine.

One head, a teardrop fashioned from dirt, had ruby eyes and gold for teeth. Though it had no nose, the face perpetually smiled.

The other head was wrapped in aged linen and reeked of sour milk before it ferments — this disgusting odor with the promise of delight. Despite the sprawl of linen covering the head, its features were clearly visible through the slits: a pair of sewed eyes, a nose rotten and revealing bone, and a terrible mouth. This mouth was also sewn shut, but the thread was too weak and too old, so, when the head spoke, its jaws unhinged like a python’s and threatened to completely rip into two halves. And it was this head which spoke.

Both heads were linked to a naked body, only the miasma which came out of its pores covered its genitals and chest.

Teardrop-head cocked its head and spoke next, “Yes, yes, quite harsh indeed, little Nu’ao, turtle of the stars — much too cruel, unbearable, despicable even! And that is exactly why you were chosen, don’t you dare forget now; to forget our promise, our pledge, our contract would be to defy the Cult of Su’nyata, and that would spell absolute ruin — terrible ruin, worse than the affliction of your people currently. Remember, remember!”

“Remember. Forget. Only death.” Bandaged-head echoed its twin’s sentiments.

Slash. Thrust. Swipe. Crush. Nu’ao finished with a pierce, right at the demon’s chest with his spear freshly conjured from the earth.

The demon dodged all of the fae’s strikes. His absurd width allowed for him to coil around the motion of the spear. For the last pierce, the demon simply ripped his body from down the middle; the spear struck through empty.

“Do not use my shadow as a portal or what have you,” Nu’ao barked as he slashed a circle around him with his spear. “As a matter of fact, demon, I rather you not come within this circle of me.”

“Rather large circle, ain’t it — big enough to fit a conference, a conspiracy, in there, or maybe a funeral or mass graves,” Tear-drop head responded. “And is that any way to treat your benefactor, your savior and god? No, no, it really isn’t; not the way it ought to be at all, rather preposterous if we think about it, and when we think about it, the only logical greeting would be to hug — not experience aggression and isolation, that wouldn’t be right at all.”

“Isolation bad. Hug good.”

“If you step inside the circle, into my territory, I will slaughter you.”

“Can you?”

The fae’s cheeks twitched. “Simply give your report.”

The demon straightened up and assumed its height which towered over all. Teardrop-head coughed and then spoke,

“The ambush was a monumental success, absolutely could not have been better or cleaner; blood runs the streets and guts decorates the walls as pretty as flowers. Truly, sheer brilliance to have me transport the entire army from the eastern desert to the western front. Even if we did not have a group of illusionists constantly applying camouflage, we would have been fine — snuck right underneath their noses regardless, kill them all and drink their blood as easily as downing wine and mead! The joy, joy, joy!”

“What of the main castle?”

“Barricaded. Impenetrable. Soon.” Bandaged-head responded as it played with its linen wrappings.

Nu’ao’s eyes narrowed. He cracked his joints, “How soon.”

“Very soon; this entire land will be yours, turtle of the stars, in but a breath’s time — there is not even need to hold your breath.”

The fae gazed the castle — his ancestors’ castle — and he touched his withered face.

He whispered to himself. “Soon. Soon, everything will be like the Old Stories, as if the Lost Cause was the true myth. I will return both the beauty of the flower and the nobility of the turtle of the stars, o’ Great Ancestors.”

Sensing an atmosphere emit from the fae, the demon bowed and sank into a nearby shadow. On the contrary, the fae's companion peeked its head out from its shell and gazed at the castle in longing as well.

Outside the walls, Nu’ao’s sister also gazed at the castle assaulted by flying red devils and burning tremendously like a beautiful flower.

“Is it not wonderful, flower of short-lived night, young Queen Bi’jin?” A servant asked as he handed her another cup of tea. He too had on a mask, though his was fashioned out of mere tree bark.

“Is it wonderful?” The girl asked as she sipped her tea slowly.

“How can it not be? We are at last back home. And soon everything lost will return: the scent of flowers, the sound of bells and chimes, the whistling of the leaves; the smiles of the children, the laughter of the adults, and the merriment of the Fae’ds; the turtle in the stars-drowned sky, the bloom of the night-flower, the thorns which makes us strong and makes us respected. Soon, we will get all of it back.”

The girl finished the cup of tea in silence. She looked around the snow-covered fields which the children, old, and unable were gathered. All of them wore masks, but the girl felt through some odd solidarity that all of them gazed at the castle. “It is still winter. Even if we are victorious, it is still too early for flowers; too early for chimes and bells; too early for whistling of the leaves. It is still much too cold.”

“But the children would still smile and play without fear; the adults can laugh as they drink and feast; the Fae’ds can once again teach and live as they are meant to.”

“I suppose so,” the young queen responded. She gazed at the castle as the skies above indulged in the dancing of clouds and the choir of night.

Inside the castle, Anise had just woken up. There was a pounding at the door. Before she could utter a response, the door was broken down with a heavy kick.

“Young master, we must move!” The servant shouted. He saw the beast knocked cold but was relieved when he saw Anise awake. “Lady Tan’ae, there has been an invasion by the traitorous fae and demons. Help me carry the young master. If he has exerted himself to the extent of passing out on the floor, he will not wake until morning comes.”

In a daze, the young wife hoisted the beast’s arm over her shoulders as the servant did the same.

“We will meet up with Baron Din’ae at the main halls. Your mother and the Antistita should be headed to the main halls as well.”

“What about Boo, I mean, Bolverk? He’s an old friend of mine; I saw him at the wedding.”

The servant shook his head. “Never heard of him.”

As they scrambled through the halls and down the stairs, Anise described Bolverk to the servant. The servant shook his head with a frown.

“Baron Din’ae allowed those who came with your mother to stay in one of the guest chambers, but only the Antistita came along with your mother. Hopefully, we will see him at the main halls. Everyone, including us servants, are headed there.”

The young lady nodded while chewing on her bottom lip. She could not help but feel that something would happen to Boo.

“If you are that worried about that man, then go find him,” Usha’s lethargic voice sounded inside Anise’s head. “Or, better yet, completely cut him off from your life. Things that bring about worry, ultimately bring about ruin as well.”

“Can you please shut up for once?” Anise barked back. The fallen goddess snorted and fell back into her slumber.

As the trio (quartet?) walked down the long, spiraling stairs, they came upon a series of dead bodies — all were human. The servant paled and grew more tired with every body. Anise felt her hands paralyze and her chest to collapse; her entire being shook as they passed the bodies — all torn up — by.

“Do you think whatever killed them is still here?” Anise asked.

“That’s more than a possibility. Judging by the way the bodies are presented, it seems the perpetrator is taunting us. It would not surprise me if there is a demon waiting down there just to savor our despair. If that is the case, I will sacrifice myself.”

Anise didn’t know how to respond to such a sudden declaration. They continued walking. When they neared the bottom of the steps, they stopped. The servant went on ahead. He came back and signalled the coast clear. The servant also found a pair of swords. He handed one to the young lady, for “protection, hopefully it would not come to that” as he said.

A bit more lively, the servant moved quickly even with the beast’s weight on his shoulders.

Anise did not know what happened. Despite all her training to track a moving target, she was unable to register anything at all.

One moment, the servant’s head was attached to his neck. The next moment, as soon as she blinked, blood had erupted from his neck all over her face. His head rolled back down the halls. The servant’s body then slipped and fell flat, leaving Anise bearing the entirety of the beast.

The young lady swung her blade madly. A series of clacks resounded through the halls.

“It was a mantodae,” Usha said with interest in her voice. “This invasion may be of entertainment after all.”

“I, I don’t care what it is. Tell me how to kill it,” Anise said as she walked through the halls toward the gilded doors at the end of the halls.

“Can you kill, little girl? Can you accept the consequences?” Anise did not respond. Usha continued, “It is a blind creature and relies mainly on its hearing. That’s why it has been clacking so incessantly. If you can dodge its first strike — usually a lunge of some sort from inside the walls — then, living won’t be too difficult. And you can always toss the baggage aside if you don’t want to die.”

Anise swallowed her breath. The clacking stopped. It was as if time as frozen. She held her breath and waited.

She instantly threw her head back. The motion arched her back, coupled with the weight of the beast, and caused her to fall backwards. Anise quickly moved the beast off her and stood up. She saw the mantodae.

It was a a mantis with the figure of a human. It stood on its hind-legs and featured a very slender figure. The creature had no eyes, rather a series of plates made up its head, similar to scale armor. A pair of great claws constituted the arms.

The mantodae started to clack again. And soon it stopped. It pivoted its head directly at Anise’s eyes.

“Let me take over. You’ve already lost the first strike. And currently, I am in no mood to deal with your struggle, little girl. You must accept who you are; as I have accepted what I am.”

Anise did not respond. She was unable to. Her body convulsed as her eyes rolled back. Her eyes turned iridescent.

The young lady grasped her sword with both hands. She shouted. The demon charged. With a simple upward slash, the young lady drew the crescent moon in the air. Blood sprayed all over her, but she did not mind. She smiled.

Victorious, the goddess returned control to Anise, who threw up the moment she was conscious. The pale girl trembled. Then she shook her head free of thoughts. Anise lugged the beast toward the door and opened it.

She found the main halls in a state of panic. Demons, fae, and human carcasses swelled the entire room. The prestigious guests who had chosen to stay did not know whether to feel grateful or to feel regret.

Anise walked over to the center of the halls where the baron was. Baron Din’ae thanked her with a bow. His many concubines rolled their eyes; the actual main wife smiled graciously. She looked away and quickly walked to where her guardians were.

Anise had not seen Boo in the room at all.

Author's Note: Cliff-hangerish? I really enjoyed writing this chapter; I think it came out really well. Honestly the best thing I've written all month so far, beside this other chapter on my other story. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.