A Journey Unwanted-Chapter 451 - 440: The moon?

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Quadling Country]

[Glinda’s Castle]

Despite their whispering, the cloaked figure heard every word with clarity. Her ears were very sharp and attentive, catching even the softest shift in tone and the smallest breath between syllables. She did not interrupt them—she simply listened.

("They seem very similar," ) she observed inwardly, her gaze resting on the fairy perched upon the General’s armored shoulder. ("Both of them discard caution the moment something piques their curiosity. They step toward the unknown not out of necessity, but because they want to see what happens next. That certainly makes things easier for me.")

Grimm did not waste time lingering in silence.

"What is your mission?" he asked, his voice direct and devoid of any pretense or courtesy that might soften the question. "Speak plainly. If it turns out to be something dull or beneath my interest, then you would be wise to seek help elsewhere instead of wasting both of our time."

"Wow, you really don’t know how to ease into a conversation, do you?" Puck muttered from his shoulder as she leaned forward slightly. "You could at least pretend to have a little tact, just for a second. Not everything needs to sound like a threat."

"Save it," Grimm replied without even glancing at her, his focus fixed entirely on the cloaked woman before him as though nothing else in the world warranted his attention.

("I cannot reveal too much, not yet," ) the cloaked figure thought carefully, weighing each word before it was spoken. ("But what I have seen of him already aligns with what I expected. His interest is not constant—it must be fed and provoked. If it wanes, so too will his involvement. He is not driven by duty, only by his intrigue.")

She exhaled softly, her voice steady when she finally spoke.

"It concerns the moon."

"The moon?" Puck echoed immediately, one brow lifting as her pink eyes instinctively drifted upward. Even through the breaks in the gray, sluggish clouds, the full moon lingered—pale, its light spilling across the garden. "What about it?"

The cloaked woman’s gaze followed hers.

"I have a duty I must fulfill," she said, her words coming out slower. "The moon is not merely a celestial body as most believe it to be. It serves as a prison, a seal placed upon something that must never—under any circumstances—be allowed to return. Something that cannot be released, not now, not ever. But, that seal has begun to weaken."

Puck’s expression shifted, curiosity sharpening.

"I’ve never heard anything like that before," she admitted, her voice more thoughtful than dismissive.

"It is not knowledge meant to be shared freely," the cloaked woman replied. "Those who are aware of it made a conscious decision to keep it hidden. Some truths invite panic, others invite disaster simply by being known."

"Something imprisoned within the moon..." Grimm repeated, almost to himself, his tone unreadable beneath the helmet as he tilted his head ever so slightly. "And who, exactly, possessed the authority—or the power—to place such a thing there?"

"The Keepers of Order," she answered.

Puck blinked, then let out a low whistle under her breath.

"Whoa, if it’s something they had to seal away themselves, then whatever’s locked up there must be pretty serious. Actually—no, scratch that—it has to be interesting," she corrected, a small grin tugging at her lips despite the weight of the topic. "Still, it’s kind of hard to wrap my head around. Something like that just sitting in the moon this whole time?"

"It is not as distant as it seems," the cloaked woman replied calmly. "Even then, distance does not diminish danger."

Grimm remained silent for a moment, then spoke again.

"So your role in all of this," he said, "is to reinforce those failing seals before whatever is imprisoned there finds a way to break free." He deduced

The cloaked figure gave a small, confirming nod.

"Yes. That is my duty. It is not optional, nor is it something I can abandon. However..." Her voice dipped slightly. "The path to the moon is not a simple one. It is dangerous, unpredictable and under the current circumstances, impossible for me to undertake alone."

"Current circumstances..." Grimm echoed, his gaze drifting upward toward the sky, toward the pale light above. "You refer to the dragons, I’d wager," he finished.

"Yes," she said.

Grimm’s posture remained composed, but his thoughts stirred beneath the surface.

("So there is something hidden within that pale sphere after all, something significant enough to warrant intervention from those Keepers themselves," ) he mused internally. ("All this time, I dismissed it as nothing more than a distant rock, a decorative piece in the night sky. And yet it holds something worth sealing. Something worth guarding. That alone makes it worth seeing.")

His gaze lowered back to her.

"Whether I choose to deal with those dragons or not," he stated plainly, "is a decision I have yet to make. Do not assume my involvement extends that far."

"That is not what I require," the cloaked woman clarified without hesitation. "Their destruction is not necessary for my objective. However, reaching the moon and navigating what lies between here and there—that is not something I can accomplish alone. Assistance is required, whether I desire it or not."

Puck exhaled slowly, glancing between the two.

"That’s actually kind of huge," she murmured, her tone turning softer. "If something dangerous really is locked up there and that something is starting to break free, I mean, we can’t just ignore that, right?"

Grimm turned his head slightly toward her.

"What is this?" he asked, voice edged with curiosity. "Have you suddenly developed a sense of heroism? A desire to save the world, perhaps?"

"Of course not," Puck shot back immediately, placing her armored hands firmly on her hips, her expression shifting. "Don’t twist it like that. I’m just saying, isn’t this the kind of thing you’re supposed to deal with? Like, basic decency? Preventing something catastrophic from happening before it actually happens?"

Grimm paused for a fraction of a second, then spoke.

"You have basic decency?" he asked, his tone flat and almost contemplative.

Puck’s response was immediate—a long, unimpressed stare.

"Wow," she muttered, her voice laced with disbelief. "You really do go out of your way to be mean sometimes, don’t you."

Grimm gave no immediate answer to Puck’s dry remark. Instead, he merely exhaled an indistinct sound—something that could have passed as a grunt of acknowledgment or dismissal. It lingered for only a moment before his attention shifted entirely away from her and settled once more on the cloaked woman standing before them.

"How dangerous is this being within the moon?" he asked bluntly.

Puck’s irritation faded almost instantly at the question, her earlier annoyance dissolving into something far more familiar—interest. Her gaze slid back toward the cloaked figure, eyes narrowing slightly as she waited.

The woman did not hesitate.

"Something equal to a calamity... perhaps even worse," she answered, her voice still soft and composed, but it held an understanding that did not need embellishment to be felt. "If it were to be released, it would not simply threaten this land, nor just the nine realms as they stand now, it would extend beyond that. Its influence would bleed into the realm beyond as well, touching places that should remain untouched."

Puck went quiet at that, the scale of it settling in.

Grimm, however, simply absorbed it.

"Hm," he uttered, as though filing the information away rather than reacting to it. "Then I take it this is not an entity that can be dealt with through conventional means. Not something that can simply be confronted and dispatched."

The cloaked figure shook her head slowly.

"No," she said more firmly. "Its tenacity is what defines it, what makes it so dangerous. It does not fall in the way other beings do. It persists and endures, adapting in ways that are unorthodox. Its power does not adhere to familiar structures." She paused briefly before continuing, her tone lowering just slightly. "Its origin remains uncertain. There are theories, of course, some believe it may share similarities with the Ơ̴̡̝̗̱͙̖͙̖̮̮̟̠̱̿͊̿̏̔͘͠u̴̼̺̙̱̻͑͒͂̎̾͠͝t̷̎͜ę̶̬̪͚̟̮̙͗͂̿̃͐̓̓̏͒͌͒̓̑̄̓ͅr̶̨̼̘͖͕̍̈͋͌̀͂̽ ̴̰͚̈́͂̒͊̎̈́̅̽͛͘͘̕G̴̛̣̘͚̝͍̩̮̉̐̃̚̕ͅͅo̷̪͈͐́̊̊̓́͘̚d̷̢̢͉̰̹̘̥͈̪̱̳̫͖̎̽̋̄͜͠s̵͚̋̿̍̂̔́̍͆͠͝͝... though nothing has ever been confirmed."

"I see," Grimm replied, though his tone suggested he had already begun to consider the implications beyond her words.

Then, abruptly, something shifted.

The cloaked woman’s head turned sharply to the side, her attention pulled elsewhere as though something had brushed against her awareness, her rosy lips pressing into a restrained frown.

"It would seem my presence has been noticed," she said quietly, though there was no panic in her voice. "The witch who resides within this castle, she has become aware of me. I will not be able to remain here much longer."

"Oh, that’s kind of a shame," Puck admitted, her voice tinged with genuine disappointment. "I mean, I guess it makes sense. Someone like the Good Witch noticing something like you isn’t exactly surprising. Still..." She hesitated, then asked, "We are going to see you again, right? This isn’t just a one-time thing?"

"Yes," the cloaked woman answered without hesitation, her gaze returning briefly to Grimm. "There is still much I need to observe—particularly regarding the Defier. My understanding of him is incomplete." She paused, then added in a quieter voice, "If that is acceptable to you."

Grimm did not deliberate.

"Do as you please," he said plainly, his tone merely indifferent.

"You have my thanks," she replied, inclining her head slightly.

She turned then, the motion smooth, as though preparing to leave without further word. But just before she fully stepped away, she glanced back over her shoulder at Grimm. Her lips parted, hesitation flickering across her otherwise composed expression.

"Defier... what—"

The question died before it could fully form.

Whatever she had intended to ask, she swallowed it, closing her mouth just as quickly, as though deciding against it in that very instant.

Puck watched the exchange, confusion written plainly across her face.

"Wait, what were you—"

But before she could finish, and before the thought could fully form, the space where the cloaked woman had stood was suddenly empty. There had been no movement or fading presence, not even a lingering trace.

She was simply gone.

As though she had never been there at all.

"She didn’t even tell us her name," Puck said, a little disappointed.

"We’ll know it soon enough," Grimm merely said.