In Silence and Shadows
Chapter 1
Remnant's broken moon shone down through the sparse canopy of tree leaves. The pale light cast strange patterns on the forest floor, shifting currents of light and shadow. A solitary figure stalked along the dimly lit, unkempt path that wound casually between the trees. He wore a black leather chest piece with red trim and laces over a short sleeve black shirt, with one large leather pauldron on his left shoulder and a small fur pauldron on his right. His pants were also black, and loose enough to allow full movement. On his lower legs he wore a pair of black shin guards, carved with intricate designs and made from a thick, strong metal. An Ursa head hood sat on his head. From beneath the hood shone fierce blue eyes, intense and piercing. He had a short beard, coarse and bright red. One that faded into a deeper auburn as it rose to the temples of his youthful face. He plodded along steadily, looking about periodically so as to keep an eye on his surroundings.
It had been several months since he had set out on his mission. The fall of Beacon Academy had sent shockwaves throughout all of Remnant. It had had a particular impact on the young man, as word of Beacon's destruction had brought with it news of a more personal nature: the death of his childhood friend, Pyrrha Nikos. She had been one of the only people he considered a friend, and the only human he really trusted. Her loss had hit him like a charging Boarbatusk. That was why he had to find answers. Nobody had been told exactly what had happened, and that mystery ate at him as much as the fact that she was never coming back.
He angrily blinked back tears as the grief threatened to overwhelm him. As he composed himself, a new sound reached his ears. Listening carefully, he recognized what sounded like a distant brawl. Cautiously, he sped up his pace, heading for the noise. Through the forest ahead, he could see flashes of activity, and the sound became louder. He could pick out the sound of Beowolves snarling, and the dull thud of several impacts. Pushing on, he slipped between two trees and finally found the cause of all the commotion. It was a girl, a tiny thing, fending off several hungry looking Beowolves. She was quick, dodging in and out of their swipes with amazing agility, but she didn't seem to be interested in counterattacking. Her weapon of choice seemed to be some sort of umbrella or parasol, which she held like a rapier. So far she had managed not to get killed, but she was starting to visibly slow down. She seemed to sigh, her shoulders slumping sadly. She dropped the point of her umbrella, surrendering to the end. The Beowolves, creatures of Grimm drawn by negative emotions, began circling closer. Snarling hungrily, one of the Beowolves lunged straight at her. Knowing that he had to do something, he sprang into action without thinking. Charging into the fray, he dodged between the charging Grimm and the girl. Raising his left arm, his gauntlet expanded into a large, circular shield, just in time to block the Grimm's next blow. With his right hand, he drew what was essentially a long knife from his belt. In a blink, it expanded into a large spear. He quickly thrust at the Beowolf to his right, scoring a direct hit, killing it. The Grimm collapsed, beginning to dissolve fairly quickly. The young man swept his arm to his left, slashing the spearhead across the Beowolf he had been holding off with his shield. The Grimm fell back, wounded but not quite dead. Growling threateningly, the other two Beowolves also took a few steps back. What had seemed an easy meal had just gotten a lot more difficult. He positioned himself between the girl, who had slumped to her knees, and the Grimm, who began spreading out to try and surround them. Raising his shield and spear, the young man took a combat pose, roaring ferociously. The sound, unnatural and beastly, seemed to startle the Grimm somewhat. The Beowolf on the left attacked first, leaping high into the air. With a loud clang, his shield intercepted the creature's attack. Bending slightly to absorb some of the impact, he flexed and twisted, throwing the Beowolf off of his shield and into the already wounded creature. Coming from the right, the next Beowolf decided to try its luck, only to impale itself on the young man's outstretched spear. He kicked it off with one foot, then turned to face the remaining two Grimm. Changing tactics, he leapt forward, going on the offensive. Sweeping his arm from left to right, he slashed the spearhead through the uninjured Grimm's leg, severing it in one swing. Pivoting his wrist to maintain the momentum, he brought the spear around and down as he sidestepped, severing the creature's head easily. The injured Beowolf, perhaps smarter than his friends, turned and began to run on all fours. He flicked his left wrist, collapsing the shield back down into just a gauntlet. As he raised his spear in two hands, it shifted and changed, becoming a long rifle. Aiming down the sights, he squeezed off a single shot, catching the fleeing Beowolf square in the back, killing it. After looking around to be certain the area was clear, he collapsed the rifle back into its original long knife configuration and sheathed it. Walking back to the girl, he got his first good look at her. The things that stood out the most were her hair and her eyes. Her hair was strawberry pink on one side and chocolate brown on the other, with white streaks through the pink side. Her eyes were also pink and brown, matching with her hair. Tears streamed from her eyes, leaving tracks in the dirt that smudged her face. Kneeling down, he held out his hand in a gesture of assistance. Looking up, her eyes met his. She blinked, her eyes switching colors, the pink one becoming brown and the brown one becoming pink. He drew back, surprised at this. She cringed, as if afraid that he'd hit her, and her eyes turned white. The fear on her face broke his heart. Moving slowly, he put his hand back out. The girl simply stared at him warily. Sighing, he began to pull his hand back when suddenly she leapt at him, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing. He knelt there awkwardly, trying to figure out what to do with his arms. He finally wrapped them around her shoulders, trying to make comforting noises. After a while, she pulled away gently and wiped her eyes with her sleeves. He tried to smile, the expression feeling unfamiliar on his normally serious face.
"My name is Carmine. What's yours?" he asked.
She looked up at him curiously, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a Scroll. She hesitantly began tapping out some text, then held it out for him to read.
My name is Neopolitan. My friends call me Neo.
Her head drooped slightly. She typed some more.
At least, they did.
"What do you mean by that?" Carmine inquired.
She sighed, her breath shaky.
I had one friend. He's gone now. During the Fall.
Her eyes began to tear up again, and a single tear streamed down her cheek. Carmine lowered his head, understanding. He looked back up to find her studying his face. He tried to smile again, but found himself unable to. He gently reached up and wiped away the tear form her cheek.
"I lost a friend during the Fall too. I don't know exactly what happened, but I intend to find out."
She was still looking at him intently, as if seeing his words on his face and studying them to determine their truth. She nodded suddenly, having reached some internal decision. She leaned forward and took his hand, then stood up and smiled. It seemed a little forced to Carmine, but he wasn't going to push the issue any. Clearly she had a lot going on, and he figured that she would talk about it when she was ready. She turned and began walking, casually beckoning for him to follow. Shrugging his shoulders, Carmine set off, wondering about this strange girl in front of him, and about what lay ahead.