A Journey Unwanted-Chapter 418 - 407: Rest

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Quadling Country]

The grass seemed more full of vigor and the trees brighter with life the more they proceeded south. The air felt different—less thin and drained. Even the wind carried a faint sweetness to it. In the distance one could make out numerous cliffs and hills, that also erected around them, as if the land was rising to meet the sky.

The journey would have been silent if not for a particularly annoyed fairy.

"Honestly..." Puck’s voice snapped into the quiet. She drifted alongside Grimm, arms folded, expression alight with offense. "I disappear for what—three minutes? Not even a full few minutes to rest my eyes—and somehow you’ve decided that was enough time to grow bored and entirely change course without so much as a warning?" Puck questioned, only she did not sound annoyed or surprised, merely exasperated. It was the tone of someone who had already accepted Grimm’s absurdity as a fact of life, and was now simply tired of being dragged along behind it.

"That city of emerald seemed interesting," Grimm stated uncaringly, as though the complaint had been expected. "However, it is best to save such things for later."

Puck sighed lightly. She stared at him as if he’d just told her the sky was green and the grass was purple, and he expected her to nod and agree.

"You’re talking like you’re saving dessert or something," The fairy murmured, drifting closer to his side. The words were dry, but there was a hint of disbelief underneath them—like she genuinely couldn’t decide whether to laugh or sigh again. "Is the Emerald City is some kind of treat you’re denying yourself so you can feel disciplined about it?" She questioned.

Her pink eyes turning momentarily to still take note of the lion’s lingering presence before turning back to Grimm. "Still," she continued, voice lowering, "I hope you’re not planning on changing course whenever you’re bored. Because that’d be dumb. Like... spectacularly dumb. We are not going to survive long if you treat this realm like a game."

"I do what interest me." Grimm merely said.

The sentence was blunt, but Puck had already learned the strange language of Grimm’s noncommittal statements.

Puck translated that to ’maybe’.

She made a small, irritated sound in the back of her throat, like she wanted to argue, but knew it would be like arguing with a wall.

"What do you know of this ’Quadling Country’?" Grimm suddenly asked.

Of course, he merely expected her to answer without fail, but at the very least, it was a distraction from his insanity.

Puck tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"In the Dominion of Oz it’s in the southernmost section," Puck murmured. She floated a little higher, cupping her chin with her gauntleted hand, thinking. "It’s far away from any entrances to the Great Forest so my knowledge on it is pretty limited. Like... actually limited. I’ve never bothered coming down here." Her eyes narrowed in concentration, and then she continued, still following the thread of her own memory. "Pretty sure the only thing that matters here is the Good Witch’s castle," Puck said, tone turning more serious. "And she’s also a member of Quaesitorum. So she’s pretty powerful."

She paused, then added, almost grudgingly, as though it irritated her to admit it.

"Like the kind of powerful you don’t casually poke for fun. Even you."

Puck’s gaze turned toward Grimm’s helmet, as if checking whether that statement would offend him.

But Grimm gave nothing.

"I gather there’s some towns," she went on, shrugging lightly, "or maybe a city. But it’s not like the Emerald City. It’s much quieter and less obsessed with shining."

"Anything else of note?" Grimm questioned. The question was simple, his voice made it feel as though Puck missed something he would notice.

Puck clicked her tongue, as if annoyed she had to keep being useful.

"Well," she said, "the southern border here is close to the Heart Kingdom’s. So you get a lotta Heart Kingdom soldiers prancing about here." She rolled her eyes at the image, but her voice sharpened as she continued. "Though that’s for two reasons. There are a lotta entrances to the Great Forest here in the Dominion of Oz. It’s a convenient access point." Puck informed.

Her tone carried a small amount of unease at the mention of the forest, like even saying it out loud drew something’s attention.

"I see," Grimm surmised. "So they’ve their eyes on you fairies," he continued, "I gather the second reason would be trade routes for safe passage and whatnot."

Puck’s mouth twisted.

"Yep," she said. Then she exhaled sharply, like the thought genuinely disgusted her. "Though I don’t really get why anyone would wanna associate with the Heart Kingdom," Puck murmured. "I mean, seriously. You ever look at a kingdom and just think—how are you all not exhausted from being insufferable?" She shook her head, as if the concept offended her spiritually. "I think they’re just after the leylines here."

Grimm’s steps did not slow but there was a small shift in the way he held his head, his attention had sharpened at the word.

"Besides this section," Grimm stated, "the area seemed dead when we were following that brick road."

Puck blinked.

Then she hummed, as if acknowledging a point she hadn’t expected Grimm to notice.

"Oh," she murmured, "I suppose it isn’t something you’ll notice without really focusing." Her tone turned more thoughtful. "It seems that yellow brick road acted as siphoning devices," Puck said, her eyes narrowing, "to sap mana and energy from the leylines. Or whatever else there is." She drifted a little closer to Grimm, voice lowering instinctively, as if something might overhear. "If I had to guess," she continued, "it’s to power the Emerald City."

"Forsaking all for one city, hm." Grimm surmised. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The words weren’t judgmental or even surprised. Grimm had seen this pattern before, the Vel’ryr empire that chose to cannibalize their surroundings for a single shining monument as well.

"That’s just the nature of people here in Álfheimr," Puck sighed. The sigh wasn’t dramatic, merely tired if anything. "They’re too greedy for their own good."

Grimm’s head tilted a fraction.

"And not you?" Grimm asked.

The question was so flat that it was almost cruel.

Puck huffed as if offended he would ask, she straightened mid-air, arms crossing tighter.

"Course not," she snapped. Then, as if realizing she sounded defensive, she added with forced dignity, "I am merely curious." Her eyes narrowed at Grimm. "And before you say anything—curiosity is different. Curiosity can be noble and refined. Greed is what ugly people call ambition when they don’t have the spine to chase it." She paused, then muttered more quietly. "...Besides. If I was greedy, I would’ve left you hours ago."

"So you say," Grimm merely said.

He did not argue. He did not affirm. The words left him in a tone so level it almost felt dismissive. She didn’t like the way he worded it.

It wasn’t disagreement, but it wasn’t agreement either. It was that infuriating middle ground he occupied, but she was far too tired to argue. She let out a slow breath through her nose, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand.

"Whatever," she muttered at first, then louder she continued. "I’m still tired. And I’m not pretending otherwise just to keep pace with your mysterious decision-making."

Her pink eyes scanned the surroundings more carefully. The land had grown greener the further south they walked, and after a moment she spotted it—a cluster of vigorous trees standing slightly apart from the rest, their branches thick enough to cast proper shade.

She pointed.

"Let’s take a rest," Puck said, her tone shifting from irritation. "The area ahead looks like it turns to rock and elevation. Once we hit that stretch, you’re not going to get a comforting spot like this again. Not unless you enjoy sleeping upright against stone." She gave him a sideways look.

"Very well," Grimm stated. The answer came without hesitation.

That, more than anything, surprised her. He shifted direction immediately toward the trees as he altered course. There was no debate or any testing of her suggestion. He simply accepted it.

The lion hesitated.

It lingered a few paces behind, uncertain whether this was some test, some trick, or simply another unexplained change in path. Eventually, it followed after him in cautious steps.

Puck blinked.

"That was surprisingly easy," she murmured. She drifted down beneath the canopy as Grimm approached the shade. "Though I guess you did say sleep is a luxury," she added, glancing at him with mild suspicion. "We’ll probably have to take turns sleeping," she continued, voice lowering slightly as her gaze turned toward the lion. "Because of a certain oversized cat."

The lion bristled faintly at that but said nothing.

"There’s no need," Grimm merely stated. He did not even glance toward the beast as he stepped into the shade. "It shall not harm us."

The certainty in his voice wasn’t dramatic but it seemed absolute.

Puck tilted her head slowly, studying him.

"I get the feeling you’re not saying that out of faith," she murmured carefully. She drifted a little closer, lowering her voice so it didn’t carry too far. "You don’t seem like the trusting type. And I doubt you gamble on people being good."

A beat passed.

Grimm’s helmet shifted just slightly in her direction. "You seem to understand me well enough," he said. There was an almost imperceptible pause before he continued. "It seems a tiny head with a tiny brain does not equal idiocy." Another pause. "Or too much idiocy."

The insult was delivered so evenly it almost sounded dull.

Puck stared at him.

A very long, very dry stare.

She did not snap back immediately. Did not rise to it. Instead she lowered herself until she was eye-level with the surface of his helmet.

"You know," she said flatly, "most people try to be at least marginally pleasant before resting in shared shade." She crossed her arms tighter. "I think you’ll be more tolerable when you go to sleep."