THREE
The air thrummed with a high-pitched humming sound as the portal opened, a red-black tear in space. The woman stepped through, flourishing her sword before sheathing it.
She stood in a snow-covered clearing, some distance away from a quaint cottage, with only moonlight to see with. Grimm of all shapes and sizes littered the landscape, having been called here by a particularly potent concentration of negative feelings. The amassed Grimm turned to face her, baying and howling as they charged.
With a gauntleted hand, she spun the Dust chamber along the scabbard, grasping her sword's handle with the other. She stopped on the round she wanted and then slowly drew her crimson sword once more, the blade elongating to over twice the sheath's length in an instant. She simply pointed her sword at the rampaging Grimm nearly upon her, standing her ground before the charging collection of Ursai, Beowolves, and Creeps.
The next two minutes could hardly be called a fight.
She sheathed her sword once more, the remnants of the final Beowolf disintegrating into black dust. Off in the distance, a wounded Goliath slinked away, intelligent enough to know when to cut its losses. She debated chasing after it to finish it off but decided not to—she wasn't here to exterminate the local Grimm population.
She strode towards the cottage, each step measured and precise, her thigh-length black boots sinking deeply into the snow. Drifting snowflakes idly wafted by, sprinkling against her red coat. As she approached, she could see the devastation it had suffered: the door was blown apart, pieces of stone rubble were strewn around it, and the entire roof appeared to be missing. She walked in through, the scent of death and decay growing stronger, even beneath her mask, shaped like a Grimm bird of prey.
The remains of the female Huntress laid near the center of the broken cottage, torn into so many tattered pieces that you'd need a broom and a dustpan to collect them all. She paused as she took in the sight.
She had been too late. Far too late.
She stooped down by the Huntress's head, her face unmarred and untouched. Her soft, pale face was frozen into a rictus scream of fear, her light blonde curls stained red. She closed the dead woman's eyes before rearranging the rest of the body as best as she could into a semblance of dignity. For as commonplace as death and destruction were on Remnant, for as used to it as she had become, even she knew there was a place for ceremony and tradition. The dead were owed at least one final respect.
She rose, closing her own eyes, and spoke the prayer beneath her breath.
She opened her eyes, withdrawing a crystal from a pouch and channeled her Aura through it, tossing it upon the corpse. Orange-red fire flashed into life, consuming the dead woman's body, the flesh beginning to warp and blacken.
She turned away from the sight and stepped back onto the snowy plain, even as fire blazed behind her.
She saw tracks leading away from the cottage, further out towards another clearing. She followed them along, noting the two distinct sets of footprints. She could see where one jump had begun and where another ended, evidence of a running battle that had occurred recently. Telltale scorch marks and ashes spoke of Dust usage and a massive crater some distance further spoke of the sheer ferocity of the combat that had happened.
She continued along until she saw a reddened patch of snow some distance off, a flock of crows assembled on the ground around something else. One of the crows turned her way, cocking its head inquisitively as she approached. She lashed out with a hand, sending the crows flying away in a frenzy, scattering in a cacophony of cawing beaks and flapping wings.
Then she saw the figure that had been unveiled.
She staggered, an uncharacteristic welling of emotion rising inside her, piercing through the armor she had raised around her heart.
For several minutes she stared at the broken remains of the man, at the shattered weapon by his side, saying nothing, doing nothing. His eyes were closed, looking peaceful in death, as though he were simply sleeping. She bowed her head, remaining silent.
Then she straightened herself, drawing upon her sword once more, charged with Dust. She pointed it skyward, bathing the area around her in pale, blue light.
"For it is in passing that we achieve immortality," she murmured. "Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee."
She plunged the burning sword into the snow besides the corpse and azure light flared. The snow hissed as it quickly liquefied, washing away some of the blood on the man's body. The fire raced to meet the corpse, licking at its sides, before the body burst into cerulean flames, burning with an almost unnatural intensity. Smoke wafted skyward, carrying the man's essence, as if conveying his spirit towards the heavens.
She watched the corpse crumble into dust, let herself inhale some of the fumes, and stood before it until the last spark was extinguished, until all that was left was blackened ashes mixing in with water and snow.
She sheathed the sword, closing her eyes for a moment, before opening them again, searching for the tracks. Blood-covered footprints continued on in a different direction and she followed them swiftly.
She walked some further distance on before she came to what looked like an out of the way cave, hidden by an outcropping of trees. She held her sword low and at the ready, pushing past the trees as she came to the cave's entrance. In an instant, she plunged into the cave, her sword held high, ready to attack at the slightest sign of a threat.
There was nothing.
The smoky aftermath of a fire laid in the center, as the trail of blood abruptly came to an end, sitting in a pool of dried blood. She frowned, following the tracks forward as they seemed to approach where the fire had been, ending at a spot just before it. She was about to continue further when she paused, as she saw what looked like a different set of tracks also leading into the cave.
They were so faint against the stony surface of the cave, a mere collection of scuff marks. Anyone else would have missed it, but very, very few had her skill when it came to tracking.
She slowly circled around them, careful not to disturb them as she examined them. This one had broader shoulders it seemed, its legs further apart. The size of the footprint indicated at least someone six feet tall. But it was the gait that told her that a man had made those tracks and the scuff marks and tracks circled around the fire, resting just beside where the first set of tracks ended.
And as she looked at the tracks leading out of the cave, it looked like they had been walking out together, even as the second set of tracks suddenly disappeared.
She sheathed her sword once more, eyes distant as she contemplated the facts. The beast had been, by all accounts, entirely on its own. This spoke of something entirely different, of someone actively working with or for the creature. The fact that this man had not yet been seen with the beast suggested that either he hadn't done so because he preferred to work from the shadows… or perhaps because he wasn't strong enough fight alongside it.
A weak link in the chain.
And given how close the two had been sitting, there was a deeper connection between the beast and the man, something no one could have expected. She withdrew her Scroll and took a few pictures of the place. She was about to place it back in her pouch before she stopped, the alert for a new message on the screen.
She opened it, revealing a single file, which appeared to be some sort of dossier, complete with a set of pictures. On the one side stood the beast that had been here before. On the other was someone else and she gave a start when she saw who it was.
She didn't understand the import of it until she looked more closely, but the realization was dawning on her even as the text below already confirmed her suspicions.
This creature… had been human before. More than that, the creature looked like her, the one they had selected before for the procedure. She wasn't sure what it was supposed to mean, if it really spoke to the possibility suggested in there. The report itself was inconclusive after all. But between that and the evidence she had seen here, it was more than anyone else had to go on.
And she had hunted down monsters with less.
She returned the Scroll back to the pouch, a cold determination and focus enveloping her, hardening her mind to ice and her will to steel.
In ancient times, ravens were supposed to signify war and battle, portents of death and destruction. Warriors would erect banners depicting them as they marched to war, to inflict fear on their enemies as they rode them down. When the battle lines met, it was the ravens that led the charge.
She took out her sword and slashed the air once, opening another portal of red-black, a doorway to a different place.
She turned back to look out of the cave, back towards where the corpse of the man had been. She stood for a few moments, simply staring. Then she spun back to approach the portal, sheathed her sword as she stepped through it.
She would find this beast and its partner, to show it the truth of that legend.
That the ravens had gone to war once again.
—
Was sorely tempted here to give Raven a fedora. :P. The bit about the ravens is a riff off of the "Raven Banner," which was a real thing.
