GRIEVER

The air is ripe; that old familiar scent of the sea. Lips smack and nostrils flare  even after the slightest whiff of the salty the seafarers a reason to traverse to and fro the open seas for days of fishing entailed by a nights of wild stories exchanged amongst the saltiest sea dogs on a vessel and even the sea dogs congregating to the docs. The rain is coming; the torrent is nigh… the sea awaits.

#

Meanwhile in his drab room, a certain young man named Ein has grown weary, or better suited, complacent from the pettiness of his former clan. He smells that salty scent too, but it doesn’t rouse him to take up a vessel and go forth into the sea. Instead he would rather linger in those secret places of the slums Those secret squalid places where misery is but a hymn of sorrow. Lamentations hummed in silence by those who still believe in the Forgotten Martyr as they trot, like mongrels, in poverty and filth while the rich and powerful mock the coming King.

When will He return???

After moving to this location, Ein severed all ties with his clan.

He does this as acceptance of their chaotic dysfunction. His decision was to abandon his feeble-minded clan. He wants nothing to do with the Griever name! Their disgusting air is a foul odor! No pure light can obliterate the wretchedness in their hearts! They’re embroiled by their own pride; such haughtiness yields conflict after conflict; They kill one and another; one after another. Sects spawn from their hatred and yield rivalries. This seething dysfunction systematically destroys this clan. The Griever Clan will die slowly

Such tragedy worthy for Shakespearean drama is worthy of its eventual tragedy like the feud between the Montagues and the Capulets.

The Griever Clan is not even around him and their negative influence still vexes Ein. How pitiful…

…after brooding for about an hour or so, Ein lifts himself up from his bare mattress and saunters about the one bedroom, one bathroom apartment.

He gathers last night’s clothes. He also grabs a black denim coat from his closet.

Once he’s dressed, Ein grabs a newspaper clipping from the floor. 

The clipping  reads:

“THE RAGNAROK TOURNAMENT IS

JUST THREE MORE SEASONS AWAY!”

The adrenaline and blood rush from hand-to-hand combat ignites spark in him: the desire to prove himself worthy to Lady Fenrir; worthy enough to fight with her in that great Calamity.

Ein shoves the clipping in his coat pocket; promptly departing afterwards; outside Ein inhales the salty stained air and proceeds to exhale a dead breath of dejection.

“Gotta get to the gym,” mumbles Ein. 

He still feels a bit on edge and grumpy from brooding.

Suddenly…

…his mind staggers. His vision distorts. He’s surrounded by hellbeasts and netherwolves.

He’s losing himself.

The fiends leaps towards him one by one…

and it is the same ones who fall one by one for Ein fights them back…

…but wait…

…“maybe I’ll go to the gym another day.” he says with a slow stir of confusion…

…suddenly, a trickle of rain plummets from the sky.

More than a trickle gently sprinkles Ein.

The light rainfall quickly develops into the heavy downpour. Another day to sail entailed by a night of wild stories for the salty sea dogs are now out to sea.

Ein chuckles as he watches everyone flee from the rain... 

...those not inclined to the rain  open their umbrellas. The opened umbrellas become an array of colors and patterns; such iridescence. 

A soothing ambience overcomes Ein if as he was standing along the shore of a beach.

“This rain… it becomes me… it makes me feel...at ease.”

His mind expunges all of the busy noise and all of his marauding thoughts.

Unfortunately, Ein was born schizophrenic. A misfortune something even Lady Fenrir herself couldn’t prevent. She feels obligated to ease Ein’s weary mind from time to time; like a mother’s kiss upon their child’s wound. A sweet kiss promising to make things better.

Ein smiles. “I’m not alone, if you’re by my side…”

Suddenly a young woman cries out.

“I suppose hell has frozen over because Ein Griever is actually enjoying himself right now… aren’t ya”

Ein scoffs at hearing that damned name…

…Griever…

…mingled emotions thrashes his heart; it manifests itself into a conglomeration of rage, vexation, and revulsion.

Ein responds bitterly… “I go by Ein. Just Ein; you ought to know that by now Gwen.”

His Clan and even his heritage as a Griever is nothing more than the bane to his existence. He acknowledges that Gwen is not at fault but for that damn name…

…what is it about that goddamned name  that vexes him so?

Gwen is a young woman eight seasons older than Ein; her choppy black hair is a bit of a fashion statement. It denotes a feisty, fierce personality. Her fashion sense is based on her penchant for that certain color.

  Gwen is holding up an umbrella bearing that certain color green, for which she developed a penchant for. Her umbrella is bespeckled with black spots all over. 

She gives Ein a quick once over analysis; her eyes, doused in that same color are full of curiosity and allure. Her attention is drawn towards Ein’s face. He’s a wet mess with a thin layer of brown hair veiled over his face. 

His lucid blue eyes lock with Gwen’s seductive gaze; his cerulean eyes glow with former affection; her exquisitely voluptuous figure shaped by a nice set of breast and an ass to match, but she still has a svelte figure with the fairest pulchritude to match… but that damn name: Griever…

…why did she address him with that damned Griever name?

Ein sighs.

“You coming with me,” asks Ein in a not-so-subtle way. 

Gwen is tickled by his abrupt invitation. Her eased posture slightly tenses up but being the stern yet motherly young woman she is, she giggles and maintains her composure.

“Here Ein… don’t be stubborn. Come under my umbrella before you catch a cold...”

“No thanks,” Ein abruptly interjects.

He advances a few paces forward. Gwen clicks her tongue. 

“I address you with your family name and it saps the life outta ya. For real Ein, you have issues.”

Ein heaves a heavily dull sigh. “All I want to do is to train for the Ragnarök. I can still gain Lady Fenrir’s favor even without participating in the Endurance relay.”

“But how can you still receive Lady Fenrir’s blessings,” asks Gwen. “When you have a tumultuous divide in your clan? How can you be at peace when there is constant strife between you and your clan? You have to make things right.”

Ein stops in his tracks. He taps the tip of his shoe  against the cobblestone street and retreats to his mind.

Dead dejection envelops his mind like a shadow squelching what little light is left in his heart. 

A tense moment of silence settles between the two, like lovers meeting in a tryst in this rain.

Anxiety sets in. Ein shoots a sharp glare at Gwen.

“You coming or what?”

Ein heads off.

Discontent Gwen sighs and places a hand on her belly. She pauses for a moment.

“Whatever the hell you do… you gotta start thinking for the three of us now,” Gwen whispers to herself. 

Her silent sentiment lingers as she follows Ein.

The duos’s destination is the Spiegel Gym. The facility is now a few places around the intersection of Weintz Avenue and Kelzenberg Street.

The two streets converge at a corner of a rather jubilant and vivacious quadrant.

It’s popular with the youth. Constantly keeping up to date with the latest cultural trends. Teenagers and young adults alike mingle and linger about this quad as a favorite haunt of sorts. Even in this salty rain they still saunter about this quad, while indulging their appetite with food ranging from plump frankfurters to sauerkraut.

Such luxuries of decadent morsels and interacting with the other townsfolk doesn’t concern Ein; his sole desire is to spar with a certain someone and get a decent workout in at Spigel Gym.

Ein recomposes himself and maintains a lax demeanor and collects his thoughts as he approaches the stoop of his desired destination….

…the Spiegel Gym… 

As a functioning unit, The Spiegel Clan are among the elite competitors in the Ragnarök Tournament. 

The Spiegels an advanced Pedigree with primed physical traits and robust genetics. Generation after generation of Spiegel clansmen have earned Lady Fenrir’s favor after completing the Ragnarök Tournament and the Endurance Relay.

Danzig, a prodigy from the Spiegel Clan, helps train the up and comers who want to go pro in the MMA circuits, and with his clan those who want to gain Lady Fenrir’s favor in the Ragnarök Trials.

Ein is his star MMA pupil and a seasoned competitor in the Ragnarök Tournament himself; however, after a certain incident became forever etched in the Griever’s past, Ein refuses further training for and participation for the Endurance relay race. 

The rain continues to drench him. Gwen wags her head and clicks her tongue again.

“I’m glad we made it. Now you can go inside and dry off. I’m serious Ein you can catch death out in this rain... especially with you getting soaked and all.”

Ein chuckles.

“Death is the end goal once I have achieved Lady Fenrir’s favor... one way or another.”

Gwen rolls her eyes and breathes out frustration in a disgruntled sigh.

“I haven’t forgotten Ein, but that’s no excuse to pursue an early grave. You can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.”

Ein loses focus. He’s trapped within a day drea… no a vision!!

His mind thrusts him back to the past…that decisive moment that would sever all ties to his clan... all of them but one...

… 16 Seasons ago…

***   ***   ***

…a gray, fearsome wolfis fighting off feral Hell beasts and deranged nether wolves in the Öde Wasteland. 

Death and decay reeks in this dying valley. Bones, ligaments and any matter of corpses are strewn across the putrid sands. Not even the buzzards can stomach from such decadent and rotting flesh.

He doesn’t care how hazardous this filth affects his body. 

Ein is protecting a smaller and rather meek wolf. She is akin to him and for that the Griever carried on without them.

“Damn them. I can’t believe they left us behind!” The words slither through the gray wolf’s gritted fangs.

“Ein… I was the last one holding the baton and I couldn’t go on. Lady Fenrir can’t have any stragglers in the end time wars. Go on without me and gain her favor to fight alongside our clan.” A lone tear drips from the sorrowful eyes of the smaller wolf

Sorely vexed Ein, the gallant gray wolf growls, his heart seething with contempt for his clan.

“To hell with our clan and to hell with the Griever name… especially if it means we just abandon one another. I can always gain Lady Fenrir’s favor next time but if I gain it now…” Ein casts a brief gaze at the red sun... an omen of death in the Öde Wasteland.

“Ein?” 

“I would rather die here as an unknown hero than to gain glory in war if it means I can no longer see you smile…” utters the gray wolf.

“...Ein… I don’t know what to say.” The smaller wolf lowers her head in shame.

“Just rest for now,” says Ein, “I’ll kill these bastards and brin Take shelter while you still have strength.”

Even now, as his own strength is whittling down, Ein continues to fight on.

The smaller she-wolf is brought to tears. She reverts back to her human form. Her clothes are shredded. She’s almost nude; nevertheless, she feels no shame. She musters the courage to scurry beneath a nearby rock formation. From there she watches Ein face off against an ashen serpentine wolf.

“So, Ein... we meet again…” says Cerberus with a flick of his forked tongue.

“Save the sentiments Cerberus. You’ll need them for yourself when I make you plead for your wretched life.”

Cerberus scoffs.

“The outcome is in my favor for this is my territory. Victory is soon at hand.”

Ein growls.

“Bastard, it will be you who falls on this day!”

The two wolves leap towards each other, clashing claws as they pass one another midair.

*** *** ***

“Ein… Hello? Are you there...? EIN!!! Earth to EIN!!!”

The bitter daydream fades back into the past, memories forever preserved on the omnipresent spectrum of time; to and fro time forever flows; beginning to end it goes. 

“Ava…" Ein replies, still lost in a daze.

“No... I believe my name is Gwen the last time I checked.”

Ein shakes his head. “No, my little sister Ava.”

Gwen tilts her head to the side.

“Are you ok Ein? You’re getting a fever, aren’t you? Quick, let's get inside…”

Ein bitterly grunts. “Will you get a hold of yourself? I just had a flashback. It's nothing to get your panties in a bunch about.”

Ein bursts through the gym’s entrance; leaving Gwen behind.

Gwen rolls her eyes once more.

“You’re more of a mystery to me than to yourself... Ein Griever; but in order to abolish the strife between you and your clan… you must first unlock your heart to others”

She rubs her belly and breathes an anxious sigh.

“As you did on that day…”

Gwen closes her umbrella and steps inside.