Crimson Flags & Razor Blades

Webs of Shadows

Over the course of Millie's hesitant leadership, Bremen underwent a transformation. The Wolf Slayer, who was accustomed to surviving by herself, struggled under the weight of the responsibility of having to collaborate with others in order to achieve a common objective. Still, she was unable to deny the subtle changes that were occurring in the faces of those around her. In spite of this, there was a stubborn, steely light that was tempered with fear. She was no knight in shining armour, but she was what they had.

The first thing she had to do was make sure that the remaining parts of the town were safe. As a result of her meticulous instructions, the citizens of the town strengthened the crumbling walls by weaving thorns and shards of metal through the gaps. This was done to prevent any holes that could allow the bandits to easily enter and exit the town.

Jack, with a surprising amount of gentleness, led the rebuilding of homes, the sturdy beams of which were a testament to his unbreakable spirit. It would be the most difficult part for the parents to deal with the situation of their kidnapped children. It was Luna, who had always been a shadow, who became Millie's eyes and ears. She did her best to determine the whereabouts of the children.

While carrying missives, Rusty took to the skies, bringing fragments of news. He returned with rumors of other towns suffering similar fates and strange deals that were whispered in shadowy taverns. His feathers, which had once been vibrant, showed signs of battle scars. He imprisoned the bomber, one of the Kid 'goats', in order to investigate the kidnapped children; however, the little rascal refused to divulge any information because he is only a bomber, the frontline, and not the ones who know where the Kid is.

“Tell us! You little rascal!” Rusty yelled over the young boy that he had taken captive. “Where’s your hideout?!” In the pig den that served as the makeshift prison, the bomber boy simply laughed. "What is the point of telling you? You can just kill me instead or sold me to the Black Market!” Rusty had the desire to rip the boy's revolting mouth out. As a means of venting his frustration with the lack of hope, he kicked the pig den with such force.

In response to Rusty's excessively dramatic behavior, Gunner exclaimed, "Enough, Rusty." He took a step forward and smelled the fact that the boy was providing a hint through his words. “The Black Market, the children might be… Over there.”

After leaving the boy over the pig den to succumb to his treacherous act, Gunner was the one who told a story about the darkness that had occurred back in their tavern with Millie and the others. Gunner sighed, it was long before he was disgraced, during his time as a 'Wild Dog' officer, Gunner had uncovered fragments of a vast network that extended beyond the bandits and pirates. "There are the Black Markets," he muttered one night back in tavern, his gaze haunted. "Dealers in every kind of evil thing there is. Weapons, information...slaves. When people disappear, they frequently find themselves in that place. It is death webs under the grasp of Grim Society, and that must be the hideout of the Kid.”

A chill ran through Millie's veins. Madam G's cryptic words floated back from her poisoned past. Old whores, useless whores—they disappeared without a trace. People whispered that they died in the street because of unfortunates, but others told Millie about a secret place to throw the ‘trash’ or even sold their organs for the witchcraft. Would it have been possible? That the vile tendrils of the Grim Society could reach all the way down into the depths of the Red District?

They required a secret agent, a spy. An individual who is willing to go down into that miserable hive in order to search for rumors regarding the Grim Society, the Black Market and the reason it exists. No one in Bremen fits the bill, they were just terrified townsfolk, victims of the chaos and the outcasts. Their innocence was their only shield, and Millie wouldn't risk that.

A decision took root, cold and unwavering. Before Luna volunteered with her skill as the shadow assassin, Millie would go herself, cloaked in the red that had once marked her as prey. She'd become the hunter now. At the very least, she was aware of where to direct her anger if she was unable to retrieve the children.

“I will visit The Black Market,,” Millie stood up. “But I won’t promise anything in return, rather, I wish to learn a thing or two about the enemies.”

"I shall be with you, Millie," Luna said in a low voice as she prepared to be her eyes in the street. However, Millie declined with a tenacity that would be comparable to that of a commander. "No, Luna, you must remain here and watch over the others."

There is not so much to debate, as Luna saw that Millie is a typical girl who needs to be left alone. Millie can take care of herself, she proved it with the battle that she won against the Kid.

In a distant location, within the halls of the Grim Society, which were made of bone, a different transformation took place. The Kid kneeled before the shrouded figure, the price laid bare before him. "Serve us within," the rasping voice commanded. "Become our blade within the Black Market, our eyes upon the movements of the underworld. Rise through their ranks, spill the enemy secrets, and your place shall be assured."

The Kid felt a surge of twisted triumph. He'd barter in blood and cruelty, trade his soul piece by piece, for the chance at vengeance. To bring Millie as a final token to these dark masters, and to drown his failures in the respect he so desperately craved.

"I accept," he rasped, a single word that sealed his pact with shadow.

The sunrise is poised on the edge of a cliff. While Millie is getting ready to embark on an adventure into a world that she is all not familiar with, she begins to plant the first tendril of her rebellion. The Kid, embracing the monstrous shadow of the Grim Society, became more deathly with something that was offered from the dark side.

As their paths unknowingly converge, the question whispers—can a flicker of resistance challenge a society built on suffering?