Crimson Flags & Razor Blades

Imperfect Ice

Within the confines of their town, Felix the shoemaker and his wife Hannah became shadows within shadows. They were always there, serving as a constant reminder of the night that Millie was abandoned, and their presence was a constant echo of her past. They labored tirelessly, stitching boots alongside Luna and mixing mortar while Jack continued to keep a watchful eye on them. However, no smile or kind word from any of the town residents could lessen the weight of their guilt.

When Gunner nudged Millie with his broad head or when Rusty brought her a particularly brightly colored beetle as a trophy, Millie's sharp features softened. Rusty made an act of flirtation with her by saying, "Young lady!" in an effort to divert her attention away from the void that was observed in her gaze. “Your daydreaming is a waste of time because it is still morning.” Without uttering a single word, Millie smiled, and a very subtle form of lip expression conveyed her gratitude.

Her everyday hollow expressions seemed to be a specter of her past. Her calloused hands were more gentle than expected as she cared for stray children who were lost in the market, and her eyes reflected the bonfire as she shared roasted chestnuts with her peculiar family. Felix and Hannah would frequently catch glimpses of their daughter with each passing moment. With a cruel twist of the knife, these moments served as reminders of the tender child that they had lost.

Hannah, who was grieving over her husband's shoulder, began to cry out, "We know we cannot do anything to fix her, Felix." As he turned, the shoemaker let out a long, heavy sigh. "She is not a shoe, which can be easily fixed on the way, but wherever she needs us, we will be there for her.”

Meanwhile, a transformation gripped Bremen. Although the fear was still very much present, a spark of defiance helped to temper it. In accordance with his ingrained military instincts, Gunner organized patrols of men who were physically capable of joining them. Jack, with surprising strength, hauled timber and stone—the foundations of watchtowers rising along shattered walls. It was through Luna's network of informants, which was like a whispering web that spread throughout the town, that they were made aware of potential dangers. And Rusty, the ever-present herald, gathered not only of dawn but also of progress, of lives that were reborn amidst the rubble. 

The citizens of the town, who had previously been nothing more than hunched shadows, straightened up. Children played with newly carved wooden swords, mimicking the precise movements Gunner demonstrated. Bakeries, with their fires stoked with renewed hope, allowed the reassuring aroma of bread to spread throughout the streets. While Millie was observing from the rooftops, she experienced a peculiar warmth that accompanied the ever-present cold that she felt within her. That was the meaning of having a place to defend; was this what it meant?

There was, however, a new terror that uncoiled, much like a serpent that was concealed among the blooming wildflowers.

Riders arrived, although they were not the ragged bandits and brigands that had been expected, but rather men who exuded an air of chilling purpose. Despite the fact that he was a young man, barely older than a boy, the eyes of their leader were filled with the rage of vengeance. He presented himself as "The Kid," the brother of Willy the Wolf, and his demands shattered the fragile veneer of peace that Bremen had been attempting to accomplish.

Neither ransom nor loot was something he desired. He was drawn to blood. This was especially true for Millie; she was the target, the fugitive from her past murder. But it was obvious that her band would also be destroyed, along with the city in which she wished to stay.

The villain described his companions in chilling detail, highlighting the fact that they were not only soldiers but also "goats." Hired mercenaries by the Grim Society to hunt down fugitives or tore down any rebellion forces. Experts in tracking, bladed combat, and the fine art of silent death. They were a hunting party, and Bremen, along with Millie, was their prey.

The news about Bremen’s resistance was the only thing that brought the Kid and his fellow “goats” to Millie. She never anticipated that any of the kingdom's assassins would follow her around, especially those who were not the kind to avenge her murder.

The fear that returned to Bremen was an insidious poison. It crept into whispers and glances that provoked unease. There were shouts heard in the tavern, with some individuals pointing the finger of blame at the outcasts for bringing about additional disaster for them, pointing to Millie, the murderer from the Red District.

Disagreements from the past reemerged, brittle and festering. The old shoemaker, Felix, saw the looks of accusation directed at Millie, their daughter, and knew that the peace that they had worked so hard to create was on the verge of being shattered. His heart was twisted with dread as he saw the situations and the chaos within the townsfolk of Bremen, and he couldn’t do anything.

In spite of the chaotic situation with the walls of Bremen, a figure that appeared to be defiant stood in the town square as the sun descended below the horizon.

It was Millie, the Wolf Slayer. Her voice, which had become hoarse as a result of her lack of use, rang out loud and clear: "My history is a red flag, and they smell of vengeance. But I will not let this sanctuary fall. You, people of Bremen, can either cower in fear or learn to defend what we have built. The choice is yours!”

The chapter is poised on the brink of making a decision. Bremen is once again on the verge of collapse, but this time it is a different kind of fear that they are confronted with. Millie and her band, which are relics from the past, have been transformed into a grotesque form of hope at this point. And the shoemaker, whose heart is a battlefield of guilt and the desperate love of a father, is aware that he is no longer able to remain on the sidelines. Forgiveness may be a distant horizon, but action is the only bridge to survival.