In this world, Magic is Everything. All people, all races, are granted with the power to perform mystical and magical feats via grimories, mystical tomes granted to each and every child on their 15th birthday. Those blessed by the mana can have their names written down in legend.
Shattered Grimoires is the work of the mind(s) of Ardere & Shattered Grimoire's staff. All characters and content are copyright their creators, and may not be replicated without their creators' permission. Black Clover is owned by Yuki Tabata and published by Viz Shonen Jump. All images belong to their original owners. The theme you are currently viewing was made by Eliza of ElizaCodes exclusively for Shattered Grimoires.
"This is as far as I can take you, Liam." Big Mo would stop knowing that if he goes any further into this Forest he would end up like the corpse wrapped in vines. He wanted his Son to be close to the corpse of his Mother, to put it simply. He had hoped he had enough confidence to go to the very Capital, but something caused him not to. He didn't know if this warning voice was of his own conscious, or of the dead, regardless he would listen to it. During his thoughts and at the trail end of his words his Son's body was placed into a grave. He didn't need a headstone, he didn't believe in them. The soul of his Son already had left this world. This act of placing the body was just to follow his Mother's customs. The Witches of this world were strange, nothing like in his dreams. They wold kill him on the spot if he moved any closer to their home.
With what he came to do finished he just needed to head home, but he was walking. He had a assistant at the Library so there was no need to rush back on a broom, even if he had one. Through his travels camping and living off of the land was the best part of any trip. The peace it gave him was the only thing that put a smile on his face. "I see, you there. But, like the wind. I'll keep going, with no care~!"
He broke into song, making the words up as he went along. Hopping and skipping in a very dangerous place, appearing aloof and care free was Big Mo. Regardless of what the truth was or what was perceived unbeknownst to Big Mo things would take a turn for the unexpected. After three hours of walking and he came to a stop, to catch some fish in a like lake, above the trees directly above were five individuals. Three were pursuers from the Capital, Witches, wanted two Corrupted Mages dead for theft and other violations against Witches. The only traits they shared with Big Mo was that they were Men with corrupted souls. Two things they never choose, but embraced. Big Mo wasn't above to see they magnificent battle but when it began he heard and saw the stray abilities fly below. "That was close."
He had caught a fish, big enough for lunch, but as it dangled from the fish pole he created a ball of metal landed on it. Looking up as he spoke he saw that the trees were harmed in such horrible ways, skewered with magic create constructs. He could try to fish again but the battle above would more than likely cause his untimely end. Taking the best option he began a light jog, as he'd waste too much energy with a sprint. Whatever reasons others fought didn't bother him, but he didn't like being drawn into such things.
Another hour would past and he would be out of breathe, but he didn't hear anything anymore. And there was no stray attacks raining down in his path. He was overcome with relief, but his belly was empty. "Hungry, and lost, as I don't see the bread crumbs anymore."
During his jog, that turned to a fast paced walk after ten minutes, he lost track of the bread trail he had left entering the forest. Everyone had their ways to travel and navigate, since he learn tricks from stories he liked using them. If there wasn't a battle he'd have proven to himself that leaving a bread trail was a good way to navigate. Sadly, he was wrong and as he rested he'd begin to write on his palm. Ink from thin air it wasn't, as he dipped his pointer finger in his mouth first. Any word written must be said first for them to stick. "Note, never leave a bread trail. In a figurative or literal sense."
After he spoke, as the words were written in unison, he'd clap his hands as if he was closing a book. Opening them back the Ink would vanish and he'd walk over a tree with a opening. The trunk was large, it reminded him of the Library, and as He walked into it he wondered what he'd eat for dinner. The stream that went to the right of the tree wasn't large enough to have any fish. Walking right back out he just sat at the entrance of it. The Sun was supposed to set in a hours time, and that wasn't enough time to hunt for anything. His peace was ruined, ruined for no reason at all. But that was fine it got him down, but wouldn't keep him down. Things like this can happen to anyone in this strange world. He wouldn't build a fire that would damage this tree needlessly, instead using his magic he made harmless flowers spread throughout the inside of the tree. The nectar within infused with magic were intoxicating to fireflies. By the droves they came flying into the hollow tree.
His home for the night was lit up like any pub in a city, it just didn't have any food or spirits. He'd create a bed of a arrangement of the sweetest flowers, and lay on it. Picking the tops and placing them into his mouth. It wouldn't be enough to fill his tummy, but he could at least have something to hold him over till the morning. With plans to do nothing more than relax, that was ruined. The mana that was approaching was intense and menacing, something not of this world. He didn't move as if it wanted to kill him, nothing he could do would stop that. Soon a silhouette would appear at the entrance of the tree, and after a couple steps what was in view was a young lad. His injuries were sever, but not enough to kill him.
"Help." He stumbled forward with one hand out covered in blood, while the other held something close to his chest. It was wrapped in cloth, but it glow a vibrant red could be seen through it. Big Mo only glanced at it for a second, and answered a few seconds after the strange person gave their plea.
"No." He was quick and sharp with his word. He wanted to look away from the guest, but was weary of the object he carried. What he felt wasn't from the Man, but what he had. Taking it for himself was out of the question, as he was familiar with the feeling now that it was close. Whatever it was had a powerful curse leaking from it. Even being so knowledgeable about the different Hexes and Curses of the world he couldn't deal with something on this level. Hopefully his answer would be enough to turn the Man away, but that didn't happen. A shocked expression and a dropped jaw was on the face of the wounded Man. As he lowered his hand he kept walking into the tree. He didn't get far just a few feet before collapsing onto the ground. Big Mo was no healer; but even if he could he wouldn't help.
"If you don't they'll kill you also." He gathered some more strength after a couple minutes of resting, continuing his plea for assistance. Despite not knowing the type of person that he was dealing with. With having buried his Son not that long ago, Big Mo isn't that carrying of his own life. And seeing the Magic Knight symbol he really didn't care for this Man's life. As he couldn't even name which little group he belonged to. But, thinking more about it Big Mo didn't know the name of any Kingdom's groups. Not for a lack of encounter, but due to not caring for them.
"Death comes to us all, we rarely decided." His response caused the Man to reveal his grimoir, but not to attack. Soon the Earth beneath them blocked the entrance. Even if Big Mo wasn't going to help, it seemed they'd be sharing this hollowed tree for the night. Big Mo didn't own nature, so he didn't protest this. He didn't trust the wounded Man, so he didn't look away from him. "Why trap us in this tree, with that cursed thing? Do you wish to die?"
"Tch, you know nothing you scum. If you wont help me, just be quiet." It seemed all he really needed was some rest, as he was really chippy. Or it could be due to something else. Big Mo had come across people like him. They'd ask for help when desperate but when they knew they couldn't get any they'd show their noble colors. Looking down on someone they wanted to use but couldn't. It was only a assumption on his standing in society.
"You are worse than a Nobel, but just as foolish. I'm glad I didn't say I'd help you." He saw the vein pop in the Man's head and neck, and this caused Big Mo to smile. But he covered his mouth with his hand before doing so. He'd listen to the Man yell and complain for a few minutes before starting a coughing fit. His injuries weren't something that'd kill him, but he needed to relax and just rest. Big Mo still didn't plan to help him, but he'd stop provoking the Nobel Knight.
"Just relax, I can't help you. I am weak, really weak. With age Humans get weaker when it comes to their flow of mana. And with us in this forest your foes must be strong. And if they are Witches are and cursed to never harm one for a while." Big Mo wanted to assure his guest he wasn't declining to help due to not wanting to, despite that being the real reason. The reason he did this was because he was curious on the object. It no longer pulsated and the mana he had sensed faded. For two hours the talked about other things. A lie was spun about who Big Mo was, even his name was fake. It was a tough talk for Big Mo but finally the Nobel Knight's guard was dropped. And the real things he wanted to know would be the top of discussion. "So who attacked you, Sir?"
"Wretched Witches! But I killed a few of those Hags. But I have it, I have the Idol now. With this I can bring one of the Masters into the world. I hope."
"Sir, whom are you trying to bring into this world?"
There was a silence, Big Mo had pushed too hard with that question. He knew enough, so he'd relax on finding out anymore. For the time being. During their talks Big Mo had moved the Nobel onto the flowers he had created. While he rested his back on the door the Nobel created. Magic Knights were more crooked than criminals, and his ominous words proved that again. Big Mo however didn't want to stop him, but something was off. Going through his mind he went to think about the things not of this world. Out of everything that he knew there was only one thing that was connected to this area of the world. "You wish to bring forth the Devil."
Again there was silence, but it only confirmed the assumption. Big Mo wondered if the Nobel Knight knew what he was getting into. He doubted it. He would not go to sleep, but the Nobel Knight would. And again the pulsating began. Whatever that object was, it was cursed. Big Mo couldn't speak on Devil and only felt his assumptions were right based on things he noticed. But regardless on the intent of getting that object he doubted it was a tool that would do what they wanted. Witches would've caught up to the Nobel Knight by now if that was truly a important object.
Getting up Big Mo would walk over to him, and run his pockets. As the Nobel Knight would die. Not from his wounds but whatever curse inflicted on him took his life. Only those of the highest skill could make a object kill someone. So Big Mo didn't plan on touching it. Instead he wanted what he could take from the Nobel Knight. He took some yul. He found a letter tucked into his breast pocket. However Big Mo didn't read it, not at this moment. Walking back over to the door he'd place his hand on it. It was thin and the use of a grimoir was just to have a perfect appearance that matched the tree. That was another flaw in those Knights. They always wanted to act higher than they really were. A simple door would've sufficed. Walking over to side of the door Big Mo began punching the wood. He couldn't break the door, but could break this tree. Soon, he was back outside. Following him, as they didn't like being trapped either, were the fireflies he got to enter earlier. With them out he could see.
The next day would be more eventful as Big Mo still had a while to leave the Outer Forest. Along his walk he would spot a small hut, old and run down. The moss that covered it would hide the fact it was built into the tree it rested at the base of. Big Mo understood this due to his connection to Nature. Curious he would push open the door, and smile at the creaking noise. It and the aroma that entered his nose reminded him of his youth. The inside did not match the out, as it was beautiful despite the clutter. He touched nothing and planned to take nothing. What guided his steps and created a path was the smell of stow. A hearty dish that his Father used to cook every Sunday. He made it to the Kitchen on this place and saw the Witch before a cauldron, half his height she could probably match his weight. The Age of the Witch could be counted with the wrinkles on her skin. Sitting at the table as if compelled to. Rubbing his beard he waited. "Sorry your friend could not join you. But, I don't enjoy the company of Knight of any kingdom. Eat up, Little Mo. We have a lot to talk about."
As Big Mo ate he watched her create golems that began to run around the place. They were no bigger than children. Each time they came back into the room they'd place books on the floor. He didn't known what langues was used as each were different. Despite sitting at this table, he didn't know this Witch. He was eating this food as if he knew it wasn't poisoned. A lot of crooks with random agendas stayed in the Outer Forest. And this encounter could be one of lethal results. But that wasn't on his mind. Other things were still bouncing around as his thoughts. "How is it Baldy?"
"You old bag, this is delicious! From how you look I didn't even know you could cook." Big Mo would only speak after his seventh bowl. His beard was stained but he picked the pieces of rice that found their way into it. As he watched the Crone clean up using her magic he wondered when would be the best time to speak on what he wanted to know. As during his feast she only smiled and smoked. As he relaxed in his chair he watched a map begin to form onto the table, and idols popping up. The map was of the Country they resided in, and the neighboring ones. It all came in the shape of different colored flames. The heat that came from them was welcoming, but Big Mo still did not touch anything. Despite welcoming it was still sinister.
"Baldy, you wish to know if Devils and Curses are linked more deeply than taught. For a quick answer, yes. For a more detailed one I must warn you of what you will find out. As to explain one thing I must explain everything that I know. As it is all connected like a web. Woven together from the history of this world, and the next. " She spoke after placing one piece onto the map that was solid, it was placed on babel.
"Can you read minds, Hag? If so you know I want to know it all.Speak at lengths if you need, I won't die of old age like you." Big Mo would touch the black piece, and he felt a connection to it. Slowly ink would spill from it. He'd stop touching it after a few seconds and just examine the rest of the map. He'd never seen Fire magic be used in such a way, but this gave him a idea of what he could do with his own in the future.
"Then sit back, Baldy and open your mind. All Mana is linked to Devils. Just as it is linked to Witches, Humans, Dwarfs.....and you Elves. However there are two types of Mana within the world. Living and Dead, you were taught them as regular Mana and Negative Mana. When you die some go to the Underworld whilst others are just Reborn. Curse Magic is frowned upon because despite those not knowing it, it calls upon Negative Mana the most. Healing Magic is the complete opposite, despite some spells being labeled as forbidden. "
"I am a Elf?" Big Mo learned about all races, but always just considered himself Human. Nothing else had made him think otherwise except what this Witch was telling him. Part of him didn't believe him, but he really had no reason not to.
"Yes, one loved by both types of Mana due to how pure your are. Just because they cut your ears, and cursed your memory, does not change that. Do you wish to learn more?"
Big Mo would raise his hand, no wishing anymore talking right now. He'd begin to stroke his beard as he sat to think. The Witch would stand and place some of the books onto the table, dispersing the map in the process. It was sudden to be called a different race. He never focused on it before, nor remembers being called a Human. At times his Father was anger he was called a Mut, but since he was adopted didn't think too much on that insult. He knew just as much about Elves as he did the other races. Looking at the first book he would open it. The pages were blank after flipping through the entire thing.
"Write in it. Allow the words of the past to come to you." Is the only thing the Witch would say before leaving the room. He'd use Ink to coat his hand in black, and close his eyes. He did this when he used to work in the tower. He was not writing in any grimoirs at the moment but the process was all the same. His left would turn the book to a random page and his right would begin to write in it. As he wrote he murmured to himself, but this time in a different langue. He was entranced by something, but did not fight it. He allowed this to happen for a few hours, just like back at the tower. Everyone that writes in grimoirs had a process to handle the usually mundane task, this was Big Mo's.
He was in a cold sweet after he had finished, and he had noticed he had filled all of the books. He did not ever need to open them again, as he understood and remembers everything he has every written. He was nervous now as he understood what was going on. Upon opening the door to this place he was inflicted by a Curse. It wasn't anything truly negative but caused him to be familiar with this place more than he really was. He smelled his Father stew because he wanted to. He felt relaxed and at home, because that is what he longed for. It was a strong spell but due to the intent of it hard to be aware of. His sense of touch wasn't altered but his other sense were tricked. This place was run down, and decayed with age. It matched the outside very well. Looking forward the Witch appeared the same, but like the Nobel Knight had a object within her hand. It was not under cloth, but the Knights green robe. Pulsating and flickering a crimson red, that could be seen through the robe. "So a curse that catches you even if you don't touch it. Rare and powerful indeed. "
"Yes, you only need to touch the person it is on." She spoke with a alternating pitch in voice. As he looked upon her more the appearance of the Creature changed. The Mana he had felt before had began to intensity, and smothering Big Mo. He had never been in the presence of someone so powerful in his life.
"So how much of this was real?" Despite the difference in power he understood he could either cower or speak. He decided to go with the latter, as Big Mo had nothing to fear in this world or the next. He doubt he would get to speak with a Crone such as this anytime soon. He could learn a great deal.
" I brought you hear to avoid those monstrous Witches. I fed you for the journey, and helped you discover the past. Everything was real to a extent but those things are the truth of this world reality." Her voice was different now, more sinister and cruel. And hummed at a certain tone. That was not the intent behind the words but the overall feel that came from them. Big Mo would close his eyes, as he knew what he was looking at was not the truth. It is best to stop committing to a curse once you are under it. The only thing he can trust in this moment was his hearing.
"And what do you want from me? I had no business with that Knight, nor the Witches from this forest." Big Mo would keep his stance of neutrality, as helping others always would end up causing more trouble. And it seems not avoid red flags also brought them.
"I need your help, as you are just like me! Trapped! Cursed! Due to being blessed by Mana. They blocked your memories so you wouldn't hate this world. They trap my mind in objects so that I can not help it. Freyr, I can not speak much longer. As the curse is reaching its limit. Go forth on your journey. Those of Green, Blue, and Black robes will need to be sent to war by the Church. Spur up old flames and draw in the Witches as well. And don't forget the Raven must be consumed. In Babel find the story of the stones. Trust no one but the Gold child blessed more than you. And Open your eyes you fat bastard, I need you moving quicker than your youth!" It was over, he felt the foreign magic on him vanish. Opening his eyes he would allow him to see the world he was within. Before him was the Nobel Knight, body decayed and drained. It still held the object, wrapped in his robe. But there was no mana that came from it. Standing to his feet the chair he was in would break from his absence. Quickly Big Mo would leave the hut. And he would watch it collapse. This Forest was strange, but he learned a lot.
He resumed his journey, but felt something in his beard. Pulling it out it was a worm, of a strange origin, it smelled familiar and he was compelled to put it into his mouth. He was shocked as the curse he was inflicted with made him eat these things. Truly, he had never had a curse so complex put on him. Almost all his senses had been changed, and he wasn't even in direct contact with the cursed object.