A Journey Unwanted-Chapter 417 - 406: Change of pace

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Munchkin Country]

The Cowardly Lion did not know whether to be scared or more confused. Fear was what it understood. It was familiar to it. Fear was a language its body spoke fluently, whether it be a tight chest, trembling limbs, or a stomach that felt like it was sinking through the bricks beneath its paws. The lion knew it well.

But the confusion was worse because it meant that some things were missing, and it could not predict what would come next. Grimm had asked a single question and then simply continued walking down the yellow brick road.

No punishment or sudden violence came. Just that one calm, muffled question from behind a helmet: "Why am I familiar to you?" And then nothing. As though the answer didn’t matter. As though the lion’s words had been tossed into the wind to be forgotten.

Confusion was now a more apparent emotion, because the lion could not even begin to grasp the General’s actions. It was like being bitten and then watched while you bled, except Grimm hadn’t bitten at all. He had simply looked.

Why even ask and not follow up?

The lion’s ears flicked back and forth, searching for meaning.

("But it’s... familiar...") The lion internally thought, the man seemed to have just lost interest so quickly. The lion replayed the moment in its mind again and again—Grimm’s slow approach, the tilt of his head, the weight of that hidden stare, the way the question had landed dully.

And then the way he had turned away as if the lion’s answer had been enough. As if the lion itself had been enough.

It was almost oddly endearing?

That was the most terrifying thought of all. Because the lion did not want to find anything endearing about this man. Not about a warrior who could tear it apart with his bare hands. Not about a figure so quiet that even his attention felt like a weapon.

But why coming from this monster of a man? Why did it feel—just for a moment—like the lion had been treated as something other than a nuisance?

Like its answer had been accepted and not mocked?

The lion was still turning that over in its mind when—

"Oh?" Grimm’s muffled voice rang out as the lion blinked, stopping as he watched the General. The sound was small but it made the lion’s body stiffen instantly. It seemed something had taken his interest, not that it seemed like something difficult to do.

The lion swallowed.

It wasn’t sure whether that was an insult or a relief.

The lion followed the General’s gaze.

Off to the side, beyond the yellow brick road, there was a large stone bridge over a wide, surprisingly pristine river. The river did not look like the rest of this strange land. It didn’t look muddy, sickly, or shallow. It looked clean. It even reflected the dull sky above. The water moved peacefully, as if nothing in the world had ever tried to poison it.

And the bridge was solid, old stone, arching over it.

The lion’s sharp eyes could make out two men standing on either side of the front of the bridge, dressed in black armor with helmets obscuring their faces and diamond emblems on their chest. Their stance was disciplined, their posture that of experienced soldiers. Both held rather sleek black spears with curved and red blades at the edges.

("T-those are Heart Kingdom soldiers.") The lion noted, agitated.

The recognition hit it, its fur prickled and its throat tightened.

It did not like those soldiers.

Not because they were particularly terrifying in appearance—though they were—but because the lion knew what their presence meant. Heart Kingdom soldiers did not stand around for nothing, nor did they guard empty bridges for fun. Heart Kingdom soldiers were always there for a reason.

Grimm meanwhile watched between following the yellow brick road and the bridge, he seemed to only mull over it for a few seconds before stepping off the path and towards the bridge.

The decision was made with ease, as if the General’s mind was already moving several steps ahead. The lion hesitated before shortly following after him at a distance. Its paws dragged slightly as it stepped off the brick road, like it was leaving the only safe line in the world.

It kept its distance on instinct; it was the lion’s only defense against Grimm, who silently approached the guards. His sharp ears were already picking up on some dialogue.

The lion’s ears caught it too, though muffled and unclear at first.

Two voices.

"Why must we be shafted for such dull a duty?" The muffled voice of the guard to the side rang out. The guard’s tone was bitter, someone insulted by their assignment. Perhaps someone who thought they deserved more than to stand by a river and watch grass sway.

"Cease your complaining." The second guard said sharply, "We’re here for a reason." That voice was more disciplined.

"Merely to direct some of our troops to that forest? What a job," The first guard said sarcastically.

The sarcasm was forced and a little too loud.

The lion could almost see the man shifting his weight, rolling his shoulders, making a performance out of his frustration to keep himself awake.

The second guard’s spear shifted slightly.

"Are you hoping to be executed for that kind of talk?" The second guard questioned. It was no joke. It was the kind of warning that came from someone who knew exactly what happened to soldiers who spoke too freely.

The first guard scoffed, and the lion heard the movement of his helmet as he turned his head.

"There’s no one here to hear," The first guard waved off, "Besi—"

He stopped himself as his gaze snapped upward towards the approaching Grimm, which he had just noticed. The cut-off was abrupt as the other guard took note as well. And in that split second, the air changed, the boredom drained out of them in an instant.

Their spears were held firmer in their grasp.

And the lion felt its stomach twist as it realized they had noticed Grimm.

"Halt." The second guard called out, lifting his spear slightly as Grimm came to a stop a few paces away. The movement wasn’t dramatic, but it was an instinctive tightening of posture. They were on guard. "That armor... you are not one of ours," he continued, voice muffled behind his helmet. "State your affiliation. Name your kingdom. Name your banner."

Grimm did not flinch, but he did pause to consider whether the question deserved an answer.

"Look at that hair, it’s like the Queen’s," The first guard murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop himself.

The second guard snapped his head toward him, irritation sharp.

"Could you not spout such drivel?" The second guard stated, the bite in his tone making it clear this wasn’t the first time he’d had to deal with his companion’s wandering mouth. "Who cares about the color of his hair? You want to die staring at it? Keep your mind where it belongs."

The first guard made a sound as though he wanted to argue, but thought better of it.

"I’m a traveler, I suppose," Grimm stated. He looked down at the two guards, whose frames were tense. He gathered that they would be; he was an imposing figure, after all.

"A traveler, huh?" The second guard questioned, and this time his spear rose another inch. His helmet turned slightly, as if trying to see Grimm’s face through the impossibility of that helmet. Then his attention shifted, still wary, to the shape behind Grimm. "And what about that?" he added, his voice lowering. "Is that Deseruit Beast with you?"

The Cowardly Lion’s body stiffened at being spoken about like a thing.

Its paws dug into the stone unconsciously. It wanted to retreat, but it couldn’t. Not with Grimm standing there, not with those spears, not with that bridge cutting the world into only two directions.

"That’s right." Grimm confirmed easily enough.

He didn’t hesitate or deny it. He said it like it was obvious, much to the lion’s confusion. It blinked, almost offended in a strange way. Grimm didn’t even pretend it wasn’t with him. He didn’t even try to separate himself from it.

Why?

Was he simply so indifferent that he didn’t care how it looked?

"Hm," The first guard surmised, and the sound was thoughtful in the way of a man trying to pretend he was in control of the situation. "I gather you want to pass on?"

"Indeed." Grimm nodded curtly.

"Well..." The second guard murmured, and the lion could hear the discomfort in his voice even now. "I suppose we don’t exactly have orders to prevent someone from crossing over." He hesitated, then added more firmly, as if trying to reclaim authority with words. "But it is still best we know your business," he said. "You understand that. If something happens beyond this bridge, and we let you through without so much as a name—then it falls on us."

"I am merely visiting locations of interest," Grimm stated, it wasn’t a lie. "But I do not know what is beyond this bridge."

The second guard paused, as if surprised Grimm had admitted ignorance so plainly.

"If you cross it and proceed south you’ll end up in Quadling Country," The second guard informed. His tone shifted into something closer to procedure, like he was clinging to the comfort of giving directions.

"Is there anything of interest there?" Grimm questioned smoothly.

The first guard shrugged.

The gesture was loose, but the lion could see the stiffness beneath it. He was still watching Grimm’s hands, posture, and breathing.

"Just the Good Witch’s castle and a few other weird towns you tend to get in the ’Dominion of Oz’," He answered. Then, after a beat, he added with an hint of disdain, as if he didn’t like saying the name. "Quadling Country’s... odd. So best to keep your wits about you."

"I see," Grimm mulled it over. Then he decided on a quick course. "Then me and my ’companion’ would like to pass," Grimm stated. "Is there a toll?"

The second guard’s spear lowered slightly, and the lion could practically hear the relief hidden beneath the soldier’s restraint.

"None," The second guard said. Then, with a dry, humorless breath, he added, "And we’re wise enough not to extort a man of your... ’stature.’"

The two guards parted slightly.

Grimm gave a nod before proceeding on the bridge, the lion following after him in a haste. It moved quickly, almost tripping over its own paws in its eagerness to be away from the spears. Its heart hammered and its breath came too fast. The stone beneath the bridge felt colder than the brick road had.

Curiosity gripped the lion at Grimm’s change in pace. It was as though the Emerald City had been dismissed with the flick of a thought. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"I thought you wanted to go to the Emerald City?" it questioned. Its voice came out rougher than it meant, strained by nerves and genuine confusion. The lion’s eyes turned toward Grimm’s helmet.

"Something that interesting should be saved for later," Grimm informed vaguely.

The lion blinked, not catching his meaning.

It wanted to ask again, it wanted to press, but it didn’t dare.

The General merely proceeded forward silently now, and the lion followed because it didn’t know what else to do.