It was a quiet place the young purple haired girl found herself in. There was not even the slightest of whispers, not even from the wind as it blew over the endless field of yellow sun flowers. The entire world was made pale by the thick mist that lay heavy upon the land.
She stood there, looking around at this world, her world, trying to find the meaning within it. But she couldn't see anything beyond the sad flowers. Those sun flowers that had never known the sky. Without the sun, what were they supposed to look for? Why should they even exist?
She closed her eye, the one that was still hers and not covered by her long purple hair. She was tired of this world of hers. This world that had never known the sun.
It was then that she noticed it. A scent that came upon the breeze, the scent of blood. Frowning, she sniffed at the air, trying to find where it was coming from as she slowly made her way through the flowers, not making so much as a sound as she passed straight through them, as if they weren't even really there. Or perhaps she was the one that didn't truly exist.
The mist clouded her view, so she didn't notice the sudden change in the landscape until she nearly crossed the invisible boundary that marked the change. The thick grass and sun flowers came to an end, the green grass turning to dead red clay soil that looked as though it was unfit for life. The smell of blood had become so strong as to make the girl dizzy. The mist was still there, but through it she could see the ground slopping upwards as if it was a hill rather than the flat plain she had been in before, and on that hill were weapons.
So many weapons, as numerous as the sun flowers had been. They seemed to grow straight up out of the ground. Swords of every size and shape imaginable. Gold, silver, steel, iron, bronze, and copper, simple and complex, plain and beautiful. All of them on the same dead hill. Straining her ears, the girl could hear something. Something large, moving slowly with a heavy creak.
The place was breath taking, but at the same time, it felt tragic, perhaps even sadder than the flowers than had never seen the sun.
Looking down at the line that seemed to separate the world of flowers from the world of weapons, the girl slowly inched her way forward, preparing the close it. She was just one step away when an annoyed voice stopped her. "I wouldn't do that." It said. The girl looked up from the line to see a man with white hair sitting with his back against one of the larger broad swords, his arms crossed as he stared over at her with a single silver eye. "It's best if you don't cross that line."
"You are... that man... from the hospital." The girl said slowly, her voice rather monotone. Her hand reached up, brushing away some of the long purple hair that covered the left side of her face, revealing the twin of the man's silver eye. "You... saved me."
"Hmm... something like that." The silver haired man said with a small shrug.
"You shouldn't have." The girl said calmly. If the man was surprised, he didn't show it. "What is the point in saving something that has no worth. It would have been better if I had simply been allowed to fade away."
At first the two of them just stared at each other, then the man's mouth twitched. The twitch turned into small chuckles and finally into open laughter. The girl frowned, wondering what she had said that was so amusing. "After all this time, I finally act out of my own wish to save another, breaking the taboo in doing so, and I pick a broken child who has already given up on life. What poetic justice. I should have known better." The man said before regaining control of himself. He looked upwards with a smile on his face. "Whatever. What is done is done. I may have changed you into my Familiar, but I have no interest in controlling you at all. If you feel like slitting your own throat, go ahead. It's your life."
"Familiar?" The girl said tilting her head, a small creese covering her brow.
"I suppose you don't know what that is, do you? Well, there are individuals called Magus, who practice the mystic arts. These individuals are generally don't trust anyone. So in order to have an assistant to help them in their research, they take a part of their body that is rich in magic circuits and place them in a dead or dying animal. Causing the animal to survive and gain a sense of awareness. These animals are called Familiars. And since they depend on the Od, or magical energy of the Magus to survive, they cannot betray the Magus." The man said. "Its generally considered taboo to perform it on humans. Mostly do to... side-effects."
"Side-effects?" The girl asked when the man didn't seem too keen on explaining.
"Don't worry about it. Just try not to cross that line any more than his necessary." The white haired man shrugged. It was strange, how well this innocent little girl was taking the news that magical beings existed. Then again, she didn't seem to be feeling anything at all. The white haired magus wondered if he had already damaged her soul so greatly.
"Who are you?" She asked as she started to sit down.
"I am no one." The man responded.
The girl tilted her head. "Don't you have a name?"
"I have had several hundreds of names. But none of them have any meaning. Names are meant to refer to a being. Something that exists. In order to exist, one needs to have form, purpose, an origin and history. I have no form of my own, my old purpose is gone, and my origin and history have been tainted by time." The man said with a resigned chuckle. "If you wish to call me something, just pick a name."
"... Master?" The girl said, tilting her head.
The man's jaw dropped and look of pain crossed his face. "No! don't call me that!"
"Why not?" The girl asked, wondering why he was so flustered by the simple name.
"Just don't! I already told you I don't have any interest in controlling you!" The man said, trying to regain his self control.
"How about Papa?" It made sense to her. He was the one that gave her life, so he was her Papa.
"... Are you making fun of me?" The white haired man asked. The girl shook her head slightly, though her face still remained blank. The man gave a sigh. "Archer. If you really must call me something, call me Archer."
"Archer? Like the bowman?" The girl asked.
"Yes, like the bowman." Archer said, closing his eye and wondering just what in the infinite worlds he had gotten himself into. "So what's your name kid?"
"...I don't have one." She said calmly.
Archer cocked an eyebrow. "Now I know you are trying to make fun of me." God he hoped she wasn't serious. "You have a family, even if it is a shit one. You have to have a name."
"If someone doesn't have a purpose, how can they have an identity?" She replied, mimicking his reasoning.
"I'm a horrible influence on her already." Archer said shaking his head. "Whatever. I'll call you Chrome then." It was a bad joke, though one she probably wouldn't understand. Chromium was the name of the alloy that was commonly used in car bumpers. It was basically like calling her road-kill.
"Chrome..." The girl said, tilting her head. He couldn't tell if she liked the name or not, though he thought he saw the slightest of smiles on her face for a moment. "Does this mean you will give me a purpose?"
"That's something you have to figure out on your own. If I give you a purpose, I'll only be damning you." Archer said closing his eye. This girl was a headache. He had dealt with a lot of psychotic and embracive girls in the past, but this was a completely different experience. The girl looked like a kicked puppy. Honestly, he wished she would just start yelling at him. He was used to that. "You want a purpose, then you really should just wake up already. You won't find what you are looking for in this mist."
"...Will you help me find one?" Chrome asked her master of sorts.
Archer glanced over at her as she sat there, looking at him with an unassuming face. She was giving him a puppy dog look. "All that is up to you. But if you need me. I will help out. Just don't become too much of a hassle."
