Uploaded: 2/15/2013.
Written: 2/3-15/2013
Edited: 9/25/2013 (Version 1.02)
Hello people. Kriegmarine here to give you a (hopefully) exciting crossover between Claymore and Naruto. This will be a side project of mine while I write the Kyuubi Revealed series (currently being rewritten as I type this to better portray the Narutoverse and its characters), so do not expect ANY rapid updates. For my followers, Ghosts of the Past (a HALO/Mass Effect/Killzone crossover) has been pulled from FanFiction until I have a better understanding of the ME verse; It has not and never will be abandoned so do not fret.
Pertaining to this fic, while I know she was among the first all-female generation of Claymores, I could not find out Riful's Claymore generation (ie 17th or 42nd gen Claymore) so I will be ever-so-slightly winging it by making her part of the 16th gen. I will say that it does help calculating her age knowing that Clare is a member of the 150th gen of Claymores. I will also be setting the length of a warrior generation to 5 years, from implantation of Yoma flesh to the end of the new generation's training period, making Riful around 670-690 years old when she meets Clare.
Addendum: Upon further thought, I've decided it would be best to portray the Claymore-verse from which the Riful of this fic was born as being an AU of the canon verse; Gives me some leeway for story building (see example above) and allows me to mess around with some abilities.
FYI: My stories shall all be rated "M" for safety's sake. FanFiction is not responsible for the content presented within this story.
Disclaimer: I will make it clear that I do not own Claymore/Naruto or any of its characters, settings, storyline, and/or techniques save my own creations.
X~X~X~X~X
Redemption from the Abyss
X~X~X~X~X
"How much further until we get to Hanel, Pa?"
The old man holding the reigns to the team of horses pulling his aging wagon looked over to his son, irritated with his day-to-day complaining.
"How many damned times do I need ta tell yeh! We'll get there when we get there!"
His son shuffled around within his seat from his father's rebuttal.
"... You said that an hour ago..." The young man mumbled, hunched over and pointedly looking away from his merchant father.
Unfortunately, his aged father's hearing had yet to give out.
"And I'll likely have ta say it again an hour from now, yeh damned pest!" The old man snapped back, both startling and embarrassing his only traveling companion.
Sighing once more in defeat for the umpteenth time that day, the brown-haired, 22 year old man decided it would likely be best for him to simply take in the sights they were traveling through once more lest he receive more of his cranky father's ire.
They were currently riding through a forest on their way to a village called Hanel in the western-most reaches of Lautrec, one of five regions that made up the land of Turiel, to help sell his father's wares. It had so far been a rather pleasant, if somewhat boring, trip; The forests that the father-son duo had passed through hummed with life. The fields they occasionally made camp upon were mesmerizing to watch during the warm days, the prevalent breeze common throughout the region making gentle rippling patterns upon fields of wild grass, and made comfortable spots for star gazing during the cool nights. The statuesque mountains they skirted past were topped with snow, their peaks glowing white under the daytime sunlight. He had originally been against going with his Pa to learn the old man's trade, the only reason for him going being his lack of a apprenticeship within their hometown of Ruval and his mother's prodding, but having dealt with picturesque views like this throughout their trip he was slowly beginning to change his mind. His thoughts were brought to a halt with a surprised yelp from his father.
"Whoa!"
His father struggled with the reigns for a few moments before he was finally able to slow and stop the horses' progress, the rickety sound of the wagon finally silenced. Concerned, the man spoke up.
"What is it, Pa?"
His father seemed to ignore him, instead looking off towards a point further along the dirt road they had been traveling upon.
"... Wha' is tha' lil' lass doin' way ou' here, I wonder?"
Confused, the man switched from looking at his father to matching his gaze, attempting to spot whatever it was his old man was looking at. It took him only a moment to finally spot what had his father concerned; A child. She looked to be in her early teens with slightly tanned skin and straight, raven hair that reached down to her waist. She wore a simple outfit consisting of nothing more than a yellow sundress. She was waving rather enthusiastically towards them. The two watched her for a few more moments before the son spoke in a low voice.
"... So... does this mean we are close to Hanel?"
His father's response was to smack him on the head. The wagon began moving once more a few moments later, the brunette rubbing his head and grumbling obscenities under his breath. Another 15 seconds passed before they pulled up to the girl, the sun continuing its gradual descent towards the western horizon.
"Wha' is a lass like yeh doin' all the way ou' here in the woods?"
The man looked up, ignoring the small bruise forming on his head out of curiosity for the girl's answer. He idly noted her chocolate-brown eyes and lack of shoes; Was this girl lost? He quickly refocused his attention when she began to speak.
"Hello! I'm truly sorry to bother you like this but could you two help me; I'm lost."
The brunette mentally smirked. 'Nailed it!'
"Wha' do yeh mean 'lost'?" The older of the two men questioned, watching the girl with wary eyes.
"Well..." The girl began, idly brushing away some errant dirt that had clung to a portion of her dress. "I was playing in the forest like I always had when I decided it was probably time to go back home. Going back, I found myself going through areas that I had never been before. It has been several days since I've been gone and my family is likely worried sick for me... Would you mind if I were to catch a ride with you two until you get to a town called Hanel?"
Several moments passed without either party speaking, the male duo thinking on how to respond. As the silence stretched on, one of the two horses shuffled around and whinnied in discomfort; Something that did not go unnoticed by the wizened eyes of the merchant. The brunette was about to answer her when his Pa spoke.
"I would help yeh, lil' lass, but I don' have the room available on this 'ere wagon. I do know tha' another wagon shou' be comin' by soon; I know they got the room ta take yeh on board."
The man was confused by his father's answer; They were, as far as he knew, the only people traveling to Hanel. The only way there could be others traveling to the village was if they were traveling at the same pace as them or taking a different route. This raised another question; How would his father know this? On top of that, he knew for a fact that they could always make room for her. He voiced his concern to those present.
"Oi, Pa? What do you- OW! The hell was that for?!" He spoke, yelling at the end after getting smacked on the head once more.
The older of the two travelers glared at his son, giving him a look that spoke of future lectures; Lectures that usually involved gratuitous amounts of yelling and a belt. His silent message clear, the old man looked back over to the concerned girl, his son pale in his seat.
"Excuse muh son, lass; He has yet ta learn proper manners." She giggled at this before frowning. "Anyho', it shou'n't be much longer 'til they arrive. Tru'y sorry ta leave yeh like dis, bu' I mus' be goin' now."
X~X~X
As the aging merchant made to get his team of horses moving once more, The girl's frown seemed to deepen. Turning towards the departing pair, she spoke lowly; Her tone that of disappointment.
"... I see... I was hoping it would not turn out like this, but you simply leave me with no other choice..."
X~X~X
Suddenly, with little warning, The wagon the merchant and his son were riding was flipped onto its side. The two men were thrown from their seats, the more elderly of the two into one of the numerous trees that made up the forest on the side of the road. The younger man was thrown into the air before hitting his head on a hard patch of earth, losing consciences almost instantly.
X~X~X
The brunette's blue eyes fluttered open, pain racking his body. He immediately tried to sit up, worried about his father and the girl, but a wave of pain and vertigo forced him to lie back down. 'Wha... what happened?' He wondered, trying to let his body recuperate for a few moments. As he did, he noticed that his hearing was impaired and a nauseating scent was filling the air. Scared that he had perhaps lost some of his hearing in the crash (or whatever it was that had happened earlier), he tried to speak. He heard himself say a dulled, "Hello?", but it was so quiet that only by knowing he had tried to speak was he able to hear it. His breathing hastened.
'Calm down, Red...' He thought, trying to calm himself using the nickname his mother gave him after getting a small crate of tomatoes dumped on him by accident while growing up. 'This is only a temporary thing. It will come back, just be patient...'
It felt like hours had passed, the mysterious odor making the brunette retch from its vileness, while it was, in fact, only a couple of minutes before his hearing improved to where he could pick up sounds from the surrounding area. His worry grew to fear when all he could hear was the sound of chewing and an occasional wet squelching noise, the normal noise that made up a forest absent. Could it be...
X~X~X
While growing up, the brunette was told numerous stories about Turiel. Many of the stories he was told during bedtime were those of heroes and their adventures. There were, however, other stories he was told; Stories of dire warning. These stories spoke of grotesque demons of the most vile nature whom fed upon human entrails and blood. Creatures faster and deadlier than any man could ever hope to be, moving at speeds quicker than the human mind could comprehend and capable of physical feats that were simply impossible for any human to duplicate. Creatures that could take on the appearance of anyone, be it a daughter or a father, and never once raise suspicion of their true nature. These creatures were called Yoma and they were not creatures of myth or legend, but an ever-present danger to the people of Turiel.
X~X~X
The merchant's son tried to get up once more, but was once more forced down due to vertigo and pain. Gasping harshly, he rolled himself over onto his belly; It was painful, but nowhere near as much as trying to stand. Slowly dragging his body around to face the road, he saw the wagon; It was on its side, one of the two wheels on the left side having broken off. The wares they were carting to Hanel to sell were strewn across the ground. One of the horses they used to move the wagon was lying on the ground not too far away, its chest still. The other horse was nowhere to be seen. There was something else missing.
'… Where is Pa?'
As if in reply, a squelch and a moan that bespoke of agonizing pain came from the other side of the wagon. The brunette froze in terror.
'Pa!... the girl!... Shit! I gotta do something to save them!'
Fighting off the debilitating waves of pain and vertigo through sheer will, the brunette slowly climbed back onto his feet. Shuffling forward on unsteady legs, he moved towards the back of the upturned wagon; They stowed their camping gear, such as bedding and an axe for woodcutting, in the back of the wagon. Tears began to fill his eyes as the worry, pain, nausea, and stench he felt and smelled grew in strength. It seemed like an eternity had passed before he finally made it to the back of the wagon, but there was a problem; The axe was not there.
Another pain-filled moan was uttered, male in tone, followed closely by the sound of something snapping.
'Dammit... I need to get to them faster!'
The brunette searched around the wreck of the wagon, eyes bleary from pain, before he spotted the axe on the ground a couple feet away. As quietly as he could in his condition, he shuffled over to it and bent down to pick it up. As he felt his hand grip the make-shift weapon, he looked over to where all the noise was coming from and froze; The girl was kneeling next to his father, her body shaking as if she was crying. He had thought a Yoma attacked, but it would appear that he had been wrong.
Cautiously, the brunette picked up the axe and began to move in an awkward gait, using the tool like a cane, towards the girl all the while listening to her choked gasps. As he got closer, he got a better look at his father and, in the moment that he did, stopped in shock and anguish; His father's vacant eyes seemed to be staring at him, wide in their last moments of life from pain and terror he could never possibly imagine.
"I ended it..."
He was jolted out of his anguish by the sudden words of the girl.
"I ended him... Broke his neck..."
He felt numb; Here was the man who had raised him, scolded him, and comforted him throughout his life lying dead before him. The nausea that had been festering in his stomach finally spewed forth, painting the ground beneath him into a collage of yellows. He coughed a couple of times to clear his esophagus, using the axe to support his weakened body. It was then that full comprehension of what the girl had said dawned on him.
"You... Why... WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?!" He finally roared out, previous pain forgotten.
The girl's shuddering movement ceased. "Because of what I am."
This derailed the man's building rage. "Because of... What the... Hell?" He had expected a completely different answer than the one he was given. Comprehension finally dawned upon him a moment later. "... Oh dear god..." The little girl didn't need help; She had never been in any danger. The girl, he used the term sparingly as he did not know what gender the Yoma before him held, slowly stood up.
"I had hoped that it would never come to this; Unlike others of my kind, I am not one to torture my food." She began to turn towards him. "For, you see..." He was finally able to see her front.
"... There is simply no fun to be had from it anymore." Calmly, yet whimsically, spoke the blood-soaked monster that stood before the brunette, clutching his father's half-eaten liver in her hand like one would an apple or pear.
The man stood rooted in his spot, breathing heavily. Here before him stood a monster of which nightmares were made from. He did not want to die; What would his mother do without he and his father? She already was beginning to lose her eyesight, so she could not truly support herself at this point. What would his girlfriend, a waitress at the local inn, do once he was gone? Would she simply forget about all the times they had spent together? Was this really all his life led up to; Simply being food for a monster?
"... N-no, I have too many people waiting on me at home; Mom, Theresa... I won't let it end like this, not after what you have done! NOT TODAY!" Strengthening his resolve and the grip on the axe, he rushed forward; Monster or not, he would avenge his father and live for all the people he cared for. This lil' bitch would not be the end of him!
He made it three steps before ribbon-like tendrils, as black as night, shot forth from the girl's head and lodged itself into his brain and heart.
X~X~X
Riful, ex-warrior of the 16th, first all-female, generation of Claymores and one of the two 'Abyssal Ones', stared hard at the corpse of the brunette hanging limp from her ribbon/tendrils. She was being truthful to the man in front of her when she said she was not one to torture her food, the old man not withstanding due to his forcing her hand, and so ended the brunette's life quickly. She had honestly thought he would try to escape from her through the forest. What had happened instead truly surprised her. From her surprise gradually came respect for the man held aloft before her; she had labeled him courageous rather than stupid.
"... Such will to live, even against overwhelming odds. To raise a hand against a creature he knew was superior in every aspect..." She sighed dreamily, dropping the ravaged liver and clasping her hands before her. "It is people such as you that I truly admire! A will to live with the courage to support it in the most dire of situations; A strength few people in this day and age value. People like you are simply fabulous! Oh, I truly wish we could have been friends!" at this she sighed dejectedly. "Alas, It would seem that our friendship was never meant to be... You being a human and all." She laid the man's corpse onto the ground, belly up, and walked towards him as her ribbon/tendrils receded back into her body.
"Well... It would truly be a pity to waste what you have provided me. Soooo..." She perked up, returning to her normally-childish persona, and plopped down onto her knees next to the still-warm corpse.
"Bon Appetit!"
X~X~X
Claymore – Dubbed 'Claymores' by civilians due to the weapons they use, they are swordsmen created by an entity simply called 'The Organization' by transplanting the flesh and blood of a Yoma into a Human. Primarily used to combat Yoma and Awakened Beings. Are ranked according to combat prowess with the number one slot taken by the best warrior. Were originally made up entirely of men, but the Organization switched to using females due to the short amount of time a male would remain productive before succumbing to overuse of Yoki energy (a feeling that can best be described as 'orgasmic') and awakening.
The Organization – An entity formed in order to combat Yoma. Are normally hired by towns to detect and destroy Yoma infestations. Claymores are sent in as part of these transactions to neutralize the Yoma threat. Towns that do not pay or are unable to pay after the elimination of such threats do not receive the protection of the Organization in the future and are usually overrun by Yoma within weeks, if not months.
Yoma – Explained within main body of chapter.
Awakened Beings (AB) – Also known as 'Voracious Eaters' and thought to simply be older Yoma by the civilian populous, they are Claymores that have 'gone beyond their limit'; This is to say that they have, at one point in time, drawn upon their demonic half's power, Yoki, to a point where they could not revert to their previous half-human state and instead becoming the very monsters they fought. AB strength, abilities, and intelligence (in most cases with the latter) is magnitudes above that of a Yoma and are normally hunted by Claymores ranked 30 and above in groups of 3 or more; Any less is usually considered suicidal.
Abyssal Ones (AO) – Same as an Awakened Being except for being Claymores that held the No.1 seat within the Organization. They are left alone by the Organization as there simply isn't anyone that can challenge them. The current AOs during the time period this fic begins are: Isley of the North and Riful of the West; Luciela has yet to be born.
*EDIT - (2/16/2013)
A few spelling errors were fixed and changed the timespan of a Claymore generation from 20 years down to 5 years as advised by larslolxz; I will admit that it makes better sense this way.