"Kid! Did you finish polishing those blades?" A deep voice, not unlike his originally was, yelled at him, snapping Archer out of his trance. He had been scowling at his reflection in one of the blades when the old man called out to him. Archer took one last look at himself, finding a pair of golden eyes staring back from the blade's reflection. Just as he had suspected, Archer looked exactly like Shirou Emiya, his younger self. At least he wasn't wearing the same clothes as the one back in Fuyuki. He had been lent a set of clothes consisting of a black jacket, a red t-shirt, black pants, and a pair of black sneakers with white stripes.
"Yeah, I'm bringing them up right now." He carefully set the blade on the stack in a box with the rest of them and then carried them out of the forge and up towards the shop. As he ascended the steps, the exit was blocked by the owner of the forge, Weyland Steele.
"Let me see your work." The man snatched a blade from the pile and brought it into the light to observe it. While the old smith was observing the metal, Archer took his time to analyse the man in front of him. He certainly fit the image of a blacksmith, with his black leather covering a dirty white shirt with its sleeves rolled up. His swept-back silver hair and piercing steel eyes gave him an imposing air of authority. The burned areas on his arm and around his gloved hands reminded Archer of the tanned skin he got when he first started overexerting his magecraft. In fact, ignoring the fact that he had robotic leg prosthetics, the man looked like an older version of Archer. Archer wasn't sure if it was that or the fact that he was in a whole new world unnerved him more. Even more unnerving was that the old man had taken him, a complete stranger, under his wing.
Archer finished off the last of the black wolves. with a quick downward x-slash from his married blades. He had killed the pack easily, but on the other hand, he sustained more injuries than he should have. He was taking a breather when he heard the sound of slow clapping.
"To be honest kid, when I first saw you being attacked by a pack of Beowolves, I wrote you off as a goner, but I guess I was wrong. You a Huntsman in training?" The voice belonged to Weyland, who was watching from nearby.
"Were you just watching me?" Archer eyed to old man warily, Kanshou and Bakuya never leaving his hands.
"Whoa kid, I'm not your enemy." The smith put his hands up. "And judging from the way you tore up those Beowolves, I wouldn't want to be." Weyland then eyed his blades. "Those are a fine piece of work. You make 'em yourself?"
Archer lowered his blades as he decided the old man was telling the truth. "I suppose you could say so. These blades have been with me for as long as I can remember. So in a sense, they are my blades." And that was true. If there was any weapon that could be called Archer's signature, it would be the white and black married blades.
"You know, you can tell a lot of a person from their weapon, if you know how to look." Weyland told him, causing Archer to scoff with a smirk on his face. "Although, judging from that wry grin on your face, you already know that don't you." Weyland then grimaced as he looked at Kanshou and Bakuya. "You… you look like you could use some help Shirou Emiya."
Archer's eyes widened as he readied his blades and adopted his fighting stance. "You know my True Name?"
"Yes, my Semblance tells me the history of a weapon and it's wielder. And boy, did you live a sad, sad life." The man looked at Archer with pity. "Look, if you don't trust me, then go ahead and leave. Good luck being stuck in an unfamiliar world with no one to turn to and no understanding of it. You have fun with that, I'll go to my cozy home with food, shelter, and information. Now on the other hand, you could come with me and I could get you situated to life in Vale and teach you about the world of Remnant. Plus, I could always use a hand or two around the forge."
Archer noticed Weyland dropped an important detail for a moment before dismissing his blades. "... Did you say the World of Remnant?"
Weyland gave him a smirk. "Trust me when I say, you are not on Earth anymore."
And so, one week ago, the Counter Guardian EMIYA, came to Vale as Weyland Steele's nephew, "Archer Steele," looking like his younger self Shirou Emiya. In fact, Weyland had even been kind enough to get Archer some fake ID and papers, through the courtesy of some shady broker who handled those kinda things. Archer wasn't sure, but he thought he heard Weyland grumble something about a "junior" of some kind.
Weyland had also gotten him up to speed on the World of Remnant, telling him of the four kingdoms and their struggle against the Grimm, the black beasts he had fought back then. He also told him about the struggles of the Faunus and the Great Faunus War. From their mistreatment to their victories and freedom under General Ghira Belladonna, to the rise and fall of the White Fang, the formerly noble Faunus Rights group founded by Ghira, which had become nothing more than a group of terrorists spearheaded by Sienna Kahn. Archer couldn't help but feel pity at their story, but that did not excuse the actions of the White Fang.
But what really interested him were Aura and Semblances. They were somewhat similar to Magecraft and Sorcery Traits from his world, but at the same time quite different, both being essences of the soul, yet with different methods of use and restrictions. And the most shocking thing Archer learn through self experimentation, was that his body had been adapted to one of this world. Archer had his circuits adapted into a pool of aura and his magecraft turned into his Semblance, as he found out through testing. The catch? Archer's conversion happened from his Servant body, meaning everything he had as a Servant was still there, from all the Noble Phantasms in Unlimited Blade Works to his Reinforcement and Structural Grasping spells. From Kanshou and Bakuya, to Gae Bolg and Rho Aias, Archer had worked throughout the week checking on all his weapons from UBW. The most surprising thing however, was that he couldn't feel the presence of Gaia at all on his projections. Whatever he traced, it felt as close to reality as it could get. They were still fakes, mind you, but there was barely a difference. The only way one could tell the difference was if they had held the real thing before. It was just like... that one time with Avalon. Wait... was that him? Or another, more fortunate one? Between that and all he had seen, Archer was thoroughly convinced that he was on an entirely different world and that he wasn't being pranked by Illya's lookalike.
As for the extent of Weyland's knowledge of Archer and his world, the smith only knew Archer's history and abilities having caught a glimpse of that through his Semblance's observation of Kanshou and Bakuya. He knew of Projection and how it worked, but wasn't able to Project anything at all. Still, he had Archer try his skills on a couple of other things. Archer's Structural Grasping and Alteration spells came in quite handy for blacksmithing. His skills were easily passed off as him having inherited Weyland's Semblance as a Steele family member, which functioned basically the same way. What he didn't know was That Archer had a Reality Marble, as Archer didn't fully trust him yet. Still, he was grateful to the smith for letting him live and work in his shop. Now if only the place wasn't called "Unlimited Iron Works."
"Not bad kid, after I finish setting these up into their weapons, we can ship 'em off to… wherever the order said." Weyland grumbled the last part as he began to search for the order. He put down the blade back into Archer's pile before heading to his unfortunately messy office to find the form.
Archer sighed before taking the box of blades to the store workshop and setting them down on the workbench near the pile of weapon parts. Once he had set them down and made sure they weren't gonna fall over and make a mess, he heard the shop door jingle.
"I've got it." He called out to Weyland, whose response consisted of an affirmative grunt. As he walked towards the counter, the smell of booze and traces of vomit hit him like a truck, causing his surprisingly sensitive nose to crinkle in disgust. "How may I help you?" Archer asked as he walked behind the counter. The customer was a middle aged man in a white polo with a gray center and black khakis. His dark gray hair was slicked back but a few bangs refused to move from his face. Flat across his back was a huge greatsword at waist level. Archer took a peek to see who he was dealing with. Harbinger. A great sword with the ability to shift into a scythe or even an odd in between state. It also contains two independently rotating shotgun barrels. It is the signature weapon of Qrow Branwen.
"Where's Weyland?" The man asked, grabbing Archer's attention. He thought he saw a glimpse of recognition and surprise in his eyes, but Archer chalked it up to him looking like the smith.
"He's busy." Archer replied. He raised an eyebrow when he heard Qrow groan.
"Just my luck." Qrow scoffed. He then eyed the kid. "Who are you supposed to be anyways, cause last time I checked, Weyland didn't have some 16 year old punk."
"Well Qrow Branwen, I'm Archer Steele, his nephew." Qrow narrowed his eyes once he heard his name.
"How did you- Don't tell me, that stupid Structural Analysis Semblance is inherited like the Schnees and their Glyphs?"
Archer coughed, drawing Qrow's Attention. "In any case Mister Branwen, did you come here to waste our time with a chat or did you need something from my Uncle's workshop?"
"Hmph I'm here for a little birthday present for my niece." Qrow explained.
"Your niece wants a weapon for a gift?" Archer asked, surprised.
"Oh, if she had her way, she's get enough weapons to equip a small army. But no, what I need is some custom parts done for her beloved Crescent Rose."
"I see, do you have the blueprints for these parts?"
"Ah, right here." Qrow pulled out a couple of papers with scribbled designs. They were mostly custom pins, bolts, and rails, common in the more personalized shifting weapons of this world. Archer raised an eyebrow at all the strawberries and bunnies doodle around the parts. "Er, she made the designs and those doodles, I'm just the middle man." Qrow clarified.
Archer analysed the blueprints while Qrow stood there in silence as the TV reported the evening news. "This is Lisa Lavender reporting in the emergence of a new vigilante that people have taken to calling the Crimson Bowman. Three days ago he made his first appearance stopping an attempted murder, while just last night he had stopped an attempted carjacking in downtown Vale. Lately, police have also had reports of muggings in alleyways being stopped with a single blunt arrow to the back of the head."
"Jeez, looks like we have a wannabe Huntsman over here." Qrow sighed. "Not like this is the first time it's happened…" He then muttered to himself.
"I suppose so. Still, don't you think the Huntsmen are spread pretty thin as is?" Archer countered.
"Yeah, Oum knows we could use more manpower as is… But what we don't need is more people who think they can just charge in like some Hero of Justice and save the day. People like that get killed in this world…" Qrow finished bitterly.
"Alright, now what masterpiece do I have to create now?" Weyland came out of his office with the order form and to the counter. "Ah Qrow! Did you need someone to out drink you again you lightweight?" Weyland laughed.
"You should have died of liver cancer a while ago. There's no way you could've drank that much and not keeled over!" Qrow shot back.
"Well, didn't I tell you? I'm made of much tougher stuff than that. Now then, let's take a looksie." Weyland snatched the designs from Archer's hands. "Oh, look at how cute the little bunny is! You make it yourself Qrow?"
The Huntsman in question grit his teeth. "Like I said, Ruby made those designs, I just delivered them."
"Is that so?" Weyland quickly took out his scroll and snapped a picture with it, smiling all the while. "You sure about that? I distinctly remember the time you wore a skirt to school." Weyland seemed to have fun pushing Qrow's buttons.
"It was a prank! And it was all Taiyang and Raven's fault!" Qrow countered defensively. "And what does that have to do with this?"
"Alright, enough with games then, kid, go down and make these, shouldn't take you too long." Weyland dismissed Archer and handed him the designs.
With that Archer descended back into the forge. Once he reached his destination, Archer took one look at the designs before losing himself in his work. The heat of the flames and sound of pounding metal soothed him in a way, making him feel right at home. Archer liked to imagine that if he grew up like a regular person instead of the messed up suicidal altruist he was, he would've taken up blacksmithing as a hobby. Working the forge felt natural to him somehow. He was so immersed in his work that he didn't realize he had an audience until he finished making the last component.
"Hm. Not bad punk. Just the way she drew them. And in only two hours?" Qrow walked up to the finished pieces, comparing them to the designs.
"Hah! What'd I tell you? The kid's got a knack for forging." Weyland laughed.
"You brought him down here?" Archer asked Weyland, although it was more of a statement. Weyland rarely lets any customers go down into the sacred place he calls his forge. The farthest most get is the workshop where customers are there for the fittings and to test out the final products.
"He's one of the few people I do personal maintenance for, another of which is the Headmaster of Beacon." Weyland explained, although his face soured at the mention of the Headmaster. Ozpin, if Archer remembered correctly.
Qrow looked like he had more to say on the matter when all of a sudden, his Scroll vibrated. "Speak of the Devil…" Qrow scowled. "I've got to go. Just ship it to Taiyang. Or at the very least Zwei. I trust the dog more than that oaf." With that Qrow rushed up the stairs, but not before knocking over a stack of unfinished blades.
"REMEMBER TO TELL HER TO COME HERE FOR THE FITTING." Weyland shouted after the old man. After all, it was important to make sure the components worked right in the finished product. The Smith then commented with a bitter tone, "Duty calls huh." He turned to Archer while heading to the stairs. "He really is a bad luck charm, causing a mess like this. I've already closed up shop for today, so clean up the mess he left and get cooking."
"Alright, alright. No matter where I go, people never seem to get enough of my cooking." Archer sighed before getting to work to clean the fallen works. At least Weyland actually had some critique to offer on his food. Most people just ate it and said it was divine, but Weyland offered advice on the tastes and exotic flavors that Remnant had to offer. Once Weyland had ascended, Archer decided to do a little more testing with this world and his new body. "Trace On…" Archer chanted in the empty forge. Judging the concept of creation… Hypothesizing the basic structure… Duplicating the composition material… Imitating the skill of its making… Sympathizing with the experience of its growth… Reproducing the accumulated years… Excelling every manufacturing process… Projection Complete. In Archer's hands lay a perfectly projected Harbinger.
A/N: And that was Chapter 2 of Fate/Remnant. Sorry if it feels like an exposition dump, it's just that there's a bunch of stuff that I need to cover for how Archer is gonna work in the World of Remnant. And for those of you wanting other Servants or F/SN characters to show up... Well, I'll leave it as a surprise. It's going to take some time before we get to the main part of RWBY, but I'm trying to get there as fast as possible while also including some stuff that I want in the story. But hey, at least here's Qrow! And yes Weyland Steele is based on Weyland the Smith (initially). There'll be more on him to come. That's all I can really think of at the moment, so see you Friday.
