[Realm: ??lfheimr]
[Location: Quadling Country]
[Glinda's Castle]
Strangely enough, the Good Witch did not guide them deeper into the castle's winding interior. Instead, she led them outward—through tall archways and past the final threshold—until stone gave way to open air.
They stepped onto a vast cliffside.
The castle lood behind them while ahead stretched an open expanse that felt almost too large to fully take in at once. Far below, the land broke into a rocky terrain—patches of forest scattered between rugged stone, the horizon softened by distance.
The air felt clearer out here.
"Yes, this will serve us rather nicely," Glinda mused, her tone almost pleased with the setting as her gaze swept across the open space as though asuring sothing.
Puck hovered a little closer to Grimm's side, glancing around before narrowing her eyes slightly. "Wait—why are we outside?" she asked, tilting her head, her voice carrying a hint of confusion. "I thought you said you wanted sowhere more comfortable, you know, inside, not standing on the edge of a cliff."
The Cowardly Lion shifted uneasily beside them, his paws scraping lightly against the stone. He clearly shared the sentint, glancing over the edge once before quickly looking away, as if the depth might pull him in.
Glinda did not seem bothered in the slightest.
"The anchoring spell will not provide a perfect path," she explained calmly, her voice patient, as though addressing sothing obvious. "It shall indicate the general direction in which Grimm's lieutenant currently resides. However…" her golden eyes turned briefly toward Grimm, a curve forming at her lips, "I, personally, will perceive the exact location. With that, we may proceed imdiately rather than waste ti retracing vague leads. There is no reason to delay sothing like a reunion."
She paused only briefly before continuing, almost as an afterthought, "I will need to tether so of my mana to you. The anchoring requires a point of connection, sothing to hold onto. If I maintain a constant application, it should persist, even against your rather troubleso nullification."
Grimm gave a simple nod, offering no resistance.
In the next instant, a thin strand of golden light extended from his chest.
It reached outward—connecting him to Glinda like a thread drawn between two distant points. It flickered, unstable, as if struggling to exist at all. The light wavered, fraying at its edges, threatened constantly by sothing.
"My, my…" Glinda murmured softly, her eyes narrowing just slightly in fascination as she observed the unstable thread. "That nullification of yours, it is quite potent. Far more aggressive than most forms I have encountered." There was no frustration in her voice—only curiosity. "Still…" she added, almost gently, "let us begin."
Beneath her feet, light ignited.
It started as a small shimr before expanding outward into sothing far more significant—a massive golden glyph forming across the stone. Circles layered upon circles and geotric patterns interlocking. It spread widely, its edges glowing with intensity.
The Cowardly Lion seed startled by the sudden display, his body tensing as he instinctively took a half-step back.
Puck's eyes widened, her earlier deanor replaced with open intrigue as she leaned forward slightly, watching the formation with clear interest.
Glinda herself remained composed.
She did not move much—only adjusting the brim of her hat with idleness before folding her arms beneath her chest. She humd softly, as if this were routine.
Then the glyph pulsed.
A ripple passed through it, as her golden eyes took on a small glow in response.
"Ah," she breathed, the sound quiet.
Grimm's attention shifted to the thread.
It stiffened—no longer wavering aimlessly. Then, as if guided by an invisible force, the far end extended outward, stretching into the distance, pointing north.
"Seems your Mallory finds herself in the Great Forest," Glinda stated, her tone carrying satisfaction, as though confirming a simple expectation.
("…Seriously.") Grimm's thought was brief, almost dry. He had been there not long ago.
Puck straightened slightly, her expression brightening. "Oh—that's actually pretty convenient," she said quickly, glancing between them. "We don't even have to walk or anything complicated. We can just use Gier's feather and be there in no ti."
Grimm gave a small, almost absent nod. That solution was acceptable.
The golden glyph beneath them began to contract, its lines folding inward before dissolving entirely into nothing. At the sa ti, the thread connecting Grimm to Glinda faded, its glow dimming until it vanished completely, leaving no trace behind.
"Well," Glinda said lightly, her smile returning as though the matter had already been neatly resolved, "it seems you will have an easy ti finding her. Imdiate, even."
Her gaze shifted outward, toward the distant lands beyond the cliff.
"Though…" she added, her tone softening just slightly, "the Great Forest is not the most welcoming place to find oneself. The fairies there are temperantal. Their jinxes can be rather unpleasant." A pause followed before she added, almost reassuringly, "Though for soone such as you—immune to most magicks—it should not pose much of an issue."
Puck visibly shuddered at that, her earlier confidence faltering just a bit. "Ugh, yeah, I really hope your lieutenant isn't as crazy as you were when I first saw you there," she muttered, rubbing her arms as if recalling sothing unpleasant.
Grimm's response was imdiate. "That would be a fault of you and yours, not her."
Puck frowned at that, clearly ready to argue—but Glinda spoke first.
"Oh?" she mused, her interest piqued once more, her smile turning slightly more playful. "Now that sounds like quite the interesting story."
"One that can wait," Grimm replied without any ceremony, as though the matter truly held no urgency to him. "I will retrieve my lieutenant first, and once that is done, I will return here and provide you with what you asked for in exchange. There is no need to complicate sothing so straightforward."
"Please, do not rush on my account," Glinda said lightly, lifting a hand in a small, graceful wave as though brushing aside the very idea of being prioritized. Her smile remained soft. "A reunion—especially one after separation, no matter how brief—should be savored, not treated as another obligation to complete. You may find that taking even a short mont to speak properly holds more value than you expect."
"There is no need to waste ti on things that serve no purpose," Grimm answered just as flatly.
Puck imdiately gave him a dry, unimpressed stare, her small form drifting slightly closer as if to emphasize her disbelief. Glinda, on the other hand, let out a quiet chuckle. It was soft, but genuine.
"Soone your age should not speak with such finality about things like that," Glinda said, her tone shifting just slightly, not reprimanding. "That sort of thinking has a way of settling in deeper than one realizes. It is not particularly kind to the soul."
Grimm gave no indication that he believed her.
"Yeah, seriously, you could stand to lighten up a bit," Puck added, her voice carrying a teasing tone as a grin tugged at her lips. "Who knows, maybe when we find your lieutenant, you'll finally stop acting like everything is so dull chore you have to get through."
"I'm not a child who needs to be excited over sothing as mundane as that," Grimm shot back without hesitation.
Puck's grin only widened, clearly not discouraged in the slightest. "Oh, I don't know about that," she said, tilting her head as she studied him with exaggerated curiosity. "I bet your lieutenant would be pretty disappointed if she heard you talk like that. Imagine finally seeing soone you've been traveling with for so long, and the first thing out of your mouth is that."
Grimm did not respond this ti.
He had already learned that indulging her only encouraged more of it.
But even so, there was a pause—not outwardly visible, not sothing anyone could easily point out—but it existed, if only for a mont.
Seeing a familiar face again, it would not be unpleasant. Mallory was, by most asures, a dull idiot. Predictable. Often irritating in ways that made little sense, but she had remained at his side for a long ti.
She was soone he could trust without needing to question it, and in its own strange way, there was sothing almost grounding in that. Even her oddities—like her inexplicable habit of staring at won's chests without any sha whatsoever—had beco sothing expected.
("Perhaps the pace of this journey will shift once she is by my side again…") Grimm considered quietly, the thought forming without much resistance. ("Though that would also an dealing with her… habits again. Hm.")
His thoughts halted abruptly.
Sothing caught his attention—just at the edge of his vision.
It did not belong.
That was the first thing he recognized.
A door.
Plain, pristine white with a simple bronze handle. Without ornantation and no attempt to draw attention, yet its very existence here made it impossible to ignore. It stood there outside, not attached to any wall. Not connected to any structure. Just present, as though it had always been there despite the impossibility of it.
Grimm's gaze fixed on it.
Puck noticed imdiately, her expression shifting as she followed the direction of his stare. "Sothing wrong, Grimm?" she asked, her tone losing so of its teasing as she tried to see what he was looking at.
"Do you not see it?" Grimm asked.
His question prompted Glinda and the Cowardly Lion to look as well.
Their reactions were imdiate, confusion.
"See what?" Puck asked again, tilting her head slightly as her eyes scanned the empty space where Grimm was clearly looking. There was nothing there for her. Nothing at all.
Grimm did not answer her.
There was sothing about this.
Sothing familiar.
("…Alice?") The na surfaced in his mind without effort, as though it had been waiting just beneath the surface. He tilted his head slightly. ("The Goddess ntioned that child wanted to contact …") he recalled. ("She also warned
to stay away from her.")
A warning, one he had no intention of following. Without another word, Grimm stepped forward, moving toward the door that only he could perceive.
Puck watched him, confusion turning into unease. "Grimm…?" she called again, her tone softer than before.
He did not stop.
Reaching the door, he extended his hand.
For a brief mont, his gauntleted fingers hovered over the bronze handle.
Then, without pause, he grasped it and swung the door open.
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