User blog:TKandMit/WNTR - Chapter One: A Visit

A rigorous and expansive mountain range came into view as the sun shines over its peak. The forest below came to life, birds flying off and the Autumn leaves illuminating with orange. Atop the mountain’s many mounds exercised a distant yellow figure.

The figure is revealed to be a thin, yet built, man in a long, flowing, golden robe. He takes a breath as he extends an arm outward, raising his left leg into a pose, presumably for a fighting stance. He changes his posture, giving two swift kicks to the air and then repositioning himself into a more traditional fighting pose: one foot forward, two fists before him.

He grunts as he quickly assaults the air with his fists, approaching the hut that stood in the mountain’s small landing. To the side of the hut is a board on a post, held in place by taut strings. One strong punch to the wood obliterated the board, splinters flying onto the hut. The fighter recoils and grabs his hand, finding a splinter between his knuckles.

“Damn it,” he groans in pain, wrapping his fingers around nature’s shrapnel and trying to pull it out. “Ah! That hurts like hell…”

“Hm, need some help, Wondi?” a familiar voice asks from behind him.

The golden young man turns around, surprised by who he saw. “Nik. Nik Tesla. Huh, what are you doing here? How did- eh, how did you find me?” he questioned the old man, grunting as he retrieved the splinter from his hand, throwing it to the ground.

“Can’t a man visit his own grandson, Allen?” Nik asked, taking his descendant’s injured hand. “Aura.”

Wondi groaned again, his skin sealing up the cut in his knuckles, a faint white glow encompassing him. “Yeah, yeah I know. Again, how did you find me, Nik?” Wondi’s tone changed, demanding for an answer.

“Your old man is wiser than you think, Wondi. I know you want to be by yourself, but I have decided it is time to come to you, my child.” Nik gave a cryptic answer, to Wondi’s distaste.

“Oh come on, grandfather. What could you possibly do for me now?”

Nik frowned, but stayed optimistic. “Listen, boy. You’re an excellent fighter. Despite your occasional injuries, your fighting style has gone unchallenged. I’ve seen what you’ve done to the creatures of Grimm when you’ve traveled the forest.”

Wondi’s face contorted with surprise and anger. “You’ve been stalking me?! How long have you kept this up?”

“Ever since you left.”

“Ever since my parents died, you mean?”

“That was my daughter and son-in-law, Allen. I know how you feel, but I would appreciate a moment of mutual understanding,” Nik stated through gritted teeth, breathing slowly.

“Fine. What do you want?” Wondi reciprocated, to his ancestor’s request.

“You are a fine fighter, my grandson. I come to you with the request that you do not let your parents deaths remain in vain. ...I wish for you to become a hunter.”

“I fight Grimm for survival, not for game.” Wondi boldly stated, rejecting the request as he gathered shards of the wooden board.

“For game? You are mistaken, my child. Hunters and huntresses protect the world of Wikia from those who wish to destroy it. You are skilled, Wondi Allen. You are destined for this,” Nik Tesla pleaded with his grandson, “Please.”

“I’m not a hunter, Nik. You know I don’t like using my semblance. And you haven’t fought for years, right? Hell, I barely know what dust is,” Wondi excused. Among his excuses, his stomach let out a low rumble.

“Hm. Alright. Would you do me the favor and think it over? I see that you’re famished. Could I treat you to a meal back in Page?” Nik offered.

Wondi considered the offer. He was rather sick of the rations he scavenged among the mountain and forest, and craved something better. Despite not being interested in his grandfather’s visit, he found it special enough to enjoy the occasion. After a moment, he answered, “Sure, grandfather.”

“Steeler’s Steakhouse?” Wondi asked his ancestor, “You’re seriously going to spend a big steak’s worth of lien on your recluse grandson?”

“I want what is best for him, no matter the cost,” Nik stated, opening the door to the restaurant and letting his grandson in.

Wondi laid back in his chair, putting his knife and fork down on the plate. “God, that was delicious. Thank you, grandfath… Nik,” he corrected.

Their waitress came to their table, the old man giving her the fifty lien. “Anything for my grandson, Allen. Wish to return to the mountain?” He asked, bringing himself to his feet and pushing his chair in, towards the table.

Wondi followed his grandfather, “Yes, thank you.”

The two exit the building, walking the streets of Page. Their time in the restaurant seemed to last longer than expected, the pair finding themselves in a dark city. Turning onto a city block, they find the street almost void of cars. Wondi starts to get an eerie feeling, but he looks up to his grandson whose face is plain as always.

The two past an alleyway, whistling emitting from it. Wondi tried to pass it off as a drunken man scouring the streets, perhaps, but heard a low growl come from behind the two.

Wondi snapped his body around, settling his eyes on something horrifying. Three beowolves crouched behind the two, following them slowly. Wondi noticed a faint orange mist emitting from their faces, but was too alarmed to form any thought about it: ‘’Beowolves? In Page? What the hell is going on?!’’ He asked himself, his mind going a mile a minute. “G-Grandfather?”

“What is it, Wondi?” He asked, and turned around to see the creatures of Grimm. “Oh, oh no.”

The beowolves roared and attacked the two. Wondi immediately put his training to good work, launching a counterattack onto the biggest beowolf coming towards him, kicking it in the jaw and sending it back to the ground. “Nik, get back! I can handle them!” Wondi yelled to his untrained grandfather, punching another beowolf in the snout.

Nik did as ordered and ran to the alley. He scavenged his pockets and found his scroll, opening it and calling for the authorities. As it rang for help, he watched Wondi take on the three Grimm with relative ease. As the fight continued, a whistle grew in volume, echoing from behind him.

Wondi jumped onto a beowolf’s back and kicked it in its lower spine, throwing it down to the ground with a loud thud. Wondi jumped off, both of the standing Grimm attacking him at once. One slashed at the young monk’s leg while the other tackled him to the ground.

“Gah! Get off me!” He yelled out, punching the beowolf again and again in the face, the monster not getting off of the warrior. Under the black fur of the monster, he glanced down the street, seeing his grandfather being thrown to the ground from the alleyway. The second Grimm found the old man in the street and ran for him, to Wondi’s dismay.

“NO! Aargh!” the yellow cladded, pale faced fighter yelled out, pounding the Grimm on top of him in the jaw. He rose to his feet, clearly injured, but ran as fast as he could towards his grandfather. By now, he saw the creature standing right on top of Nik, the monster roaring as it slashed at his chest. Wondi jumped onto the Grimm’s back as glowing white sparks flew from the two, his hands darkening as he grabbed the fur of the beowolf and a low buzz ringing in their ears.

The beowolf fell to the ground, paralyzed to some effect. A black smoke emitted from the creature, electrocuted. Wondi looked down the street, the other two Grimm now gone. He panted, and came to his grandfather’s aid. “Gr-grandfather… Nik. Nik, are you okay? What was that? Why are there Grimm in Page?” he asked, unsure if he was asking his grandfather or himself.

Nik Tesla’s eyes fluttered, his hand grabbing at his chest, "Allen..." the poor man whimpered. Wondi Allen looked down and saw pools of his grandfather’s blood streaming down his chest and into Wondi’s hands, the old man’s aura weakly attempting to seal the wounds. “No! God damn it, no!” he screamed, as a police car rushed down the road to him. Over the police sirens, the whistling from earlier faded deeper into the dark alley..

“...Then the police had reported you, holding your injured grandfather in your arms, crying. You stated it was a Grimm attack, evident from the dead beowolf that laid in the street. You have no record of being trained to fight monsters from any school, yet it is obvious you were able to handle the Grimm well. You also claim that your grandfather in question wanted you to become a hunter, earlier that day, in fact. Hmm,” the tall man thought for a moment. He came to a conclusion. “So, Wondi Allen, would you like to come to Admin Academy?”

Wondi sat in the dark room behind a table, before the headmaster of the academy. His hair was rustled and his head hung low, and his leg bobbed up and down from anxiety. He let the question hang for a moment, before looking up at the headmaster.

“Yes.”