Crimson Flags & Razor Blades

Embers of Purpose

The solemn ceremony that was held in the shoemaker's honor was carried out in order to pay tribute to him. Neither the hymns nor the heroic tales that were especially meaningful to him were brought to his grave that night as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, dark shadows. The only sounds that could be heard were the gentle, broken sobs of his wife, the silent tears of the people in the town, and a solitary, haunting crow from Rusty, whose voice was unusually subdued.

Millie, cloaked in a darkness that went beyond her usual attire, felt an icy pang of guilt. She'd brought violence into their lives, and now this old gentleman lay within the earth because of her. Despite the fact that she witnessed the burial of Felix, the shoemaker, with her own eyes, she is unable to feel anything, not even a single tear that has fallen from her eyes.

Yet, as the first clods of dirt fell upon the rough-hewn coffin, something shifted within her. There was a chilling new clarity to the words that were spoken by the Kid. The Grim Society was not merely a shadowy threat; rather, it was an architect of despair; the puppet master who orchestrated the cycle of endless torment that had haunted their lives. The Grim Society was responsible for the poverty, the bandit raids, and the cycle of endless torment.

From the depths of Millie's icy heart, a spark of determination began to ignite. She was no longer merely a survivor who was attempting to stay away from her past. Her history, along with the specters of those who had vanished in its wake, demanded more.

There would be no rest, no sanctuary, not while the Grim Society cast its monstrous shadow over the world. And even if it meant walking straight into the heart of darkness, she would go after them, expose them, and destroy the cruel designs they had devised.

As she looked over her injured band and the exhausted faces of the people in the town, she felt a twinge of uncertainty cross her mind. She was a lone wolf by nature, her past a testament to the destruction she wrought alone. Could she, should she, drag these broken souls deeper into the mire? This was a battle born of her demons, her own need for retribution... or perhaps something more, a yearning for a different kind of redemption.

Night fell, but no sense of peace descended upon Bremen. Yet, there was a flicker of defiance in the hunched shoulders of the townsfolk, a determined set to their jaws that hadn't been there before. They had experienced their first taste of victory, despite the fact that it had been expensive, and a newfound determination was ignited within the embers of their fear.

“Millie,” Gunner said, sitting near the young woman, who was not even blinking as she saw the emptiness of the sky. “You need to rest.”

“Is it true that the soul of the departed can haunt you, Gunner?” Millie replied to Gunner without even looking at her companion. As he shook his head and pondered his response, Gunner finally said, "I do not know. After all, I am just being tormented by my own thoughts about what to eat and how to stay alive before... Before everything that took place here.”

"I am a murderer," Millie replied with a gloomy expression on her face as she turned her head to look at the knife that she was holding against her side. “Even worse, I have now taken the life of an innocent person with me. Even if "innocent" means just…” The Kid's words, ‘you were just a whore,’ caused Millie to pause before continuing the sentence because she was thinking about them. And she was burdened by the fact that her real parents had sold her to the world, despite the fact that she was innocent.

“According to my line of work, there is no murderer in my life, Millie.” Luna suddenly emerged from the shadow. "You were; we were the victims of this unfair world," she said. “Either you kill or you die."

In the meantime, a battered figure made its way into a vast chamber that was dimly lit. This occurred far away from the sorrow that Bremen was experiencing. The Kid slumped to the ground in front of a shadowy figure that was seated on a throne that was carved from nameless bones. His face was a grotesque mask of pain and desperation.

His voice was raspy as he made a gesture toward the terrified children who were bound and gagged at his feet. "I bring...offerings," he said. "Proof that I can still bleed your enemies, still...serve the Grim Society! The Kingdom!"

The figure leaned forward, its voice a silken hiss of malice. "You lost an eye, and the prize slipped through your fingers. These mewling pups are a poor substitute for a legend in the chain."

The Kid cringed, but within his pain flickered a desperate tenacity. "There is more," he choked out. "I learned much...of the Society's reach. Bremen is not just a random quarry; it's a linchpin. There are others in other places, suffering as they do.”

After a brief period of eerie silence, the only sound that could be heard was the whimpering of the children. Slowly, the shadowy figure rose up and began to make its way towards the Kid who was kneeling. The skeletal hand that was holding his chin lifted it, compelling him to confront the blazing voids that were supposed to be its eyes.

The voice pondered, "Potential," and then continued, "I sense potential in you, child." To a greater extent than those who merely follow. Perhaps there is a place for you yet. Within the heart of the Society, provided that you are willing to pay the price."

At this point, the conclusion is uncertain. There is a fork in the road for Millie, who is struggling under the weight of a terrible purpose and her newly discovered sense of belonging. Away in the distance, the wounded and hopeless Kid is presented with a perverse opportunity to restore his shattered reputation, an opportunity that has the potential to damn him for all eternity.