Time to Wake Up [Single]

[Professor W B Copperfield]

The blackness was so comforting. The comfortable mattress, the warm sheets. The smell of her perfume in the air.

"Hey, it's time to get up."

He groaned and asked for five more minutes.

"No, you have to get up. Now."

He asked why.

"Because you're going to die if you stay asleep."

He rolled over to look at her, to ask what she was talking about, and opened his eyes.

The bed was replaced by blood-charred earth. The perfume was replaced by smoke. And she was replaced with nothing. Emptiness. He remembered what had happened before he lost conciousness. The Grimm, the battle, the fire. The disease. He looked down at his blood-caked hands. His own blood he had coughed up. He had figured he was dying. But he felt fine now. He had taken a face full of the corrupted air and lived? How?

He looked around for the Grimm's body, only to realize in his haze that it would have faded by now. And since the disease came from itself, once it died the disease might too. He was surrounded by the large thorny vines that made up the dome. It had all burned down now, smoldering around him. The air was drier than a desert, and his skin was cracking. He had been baking in the heat like a piece of pottery in a kiln.

He got to his feet, wobbled, fell, and got up again. So he wasn't dead afterall. Either way, he was pretty deep in Grimm territory. And his Aura was still depleted. So he started walking. And walking. He passed the bodies of friends and allies. He found Hemera's body. Covered in blood. Her blonde hair covering her closed eyes. He fell to his knees and cried.


He found the small airship he and his crew had taken to get here. It was destroyed, probably by some roaming Grimm. But the radio still functioned. He took the time to fix the nessesary equipment and put it all together. "Mayday," he croaked out, "Mayday. This is the..." He looked back to the downed ship. The name had been on the side, but that had been torn apart. "Doesn't matter. My name is Whitehorse Copperfield, Huntsman License number 5482300."


Hours later medic ships and soldiers had arrived. The medics had nothing to do besides help load up the bodies. Copperfield was questioned about what happened.

"I... I heard about these people gathering together to fight these Grimm. I came to help. Grimm attacked my airship and we crashed, but I was too late. All the work had been done already." He gestured towards the black smoke in the distance. "They did what they came here to do. Seemed like they all... they all died in the attempt though. I couldn't find any survivors. Grimm really tore them up." He shuddered, remembering the sound of bones breaking and screams cutting short.


Back in western Vale, a plot had been set aside to bury all the bodies. It was a pretty hillside, dotted with hundreds of white placks. Most of them had names, some didn't. All of them had flowers placed by loved ones and family. But not hers. She hadn't had anyone but him. He placed the solitary daffodil he had plucked from the grass onto her grave. Then he fished in his pocket and pulled out the silver ring, with a tiny diamond on it. It was all he could afford. It was fit for her finger, before she was buried. At the base of the plaque he pulled up some of the loose earth, just a handful, and placed the ring inside. He buried the ring alongside Hemera.