"The first thing you must train is your body, Taylor. Your body must be a conduit for your soul. Perfect the body, and you will push the boundaries of what you thought the physical form could do.

Now, push-ups until dawn."

After what I guessed was a month, I began to find the first signs of plant-life. This meant I had escaped the barren wastelands of Vacuo and was starting to near the inhabitable regions of Vale. Soon, I was in a proper forest, and I was starting to find signs of animal life as well. This was a good and bad sign. It was good because it meant that after about two months or so I guessed I had reached about half way. It was bad because where there was prey, there was predator. And there was no predator greater than the Grimm.

It was just past dawn when a long, low growl set me on edge. In one motion, I slammed the blade down and dropped into fighting stance, staring around. I watched as a huge, hulking shape crushed undergrowth beneath it, and let out a roar. An Ursa, the first of my trip.

I lunged forwards and slammed my fist into it mid-roar. I focused my soul, and I could feel its essence weaken. Its roar turned into one of pain, and a heavy, clawed paw slammed into me. My aura absorbed the damage, but I was knocked to the side, winded. I began to rise to my feet, but the Ursa was already on top of me. It tried to crush me under foot, but I rolled to the left. Its feet sunk into the ground where I was a second ago, and I scrambled to my feet. I saw the Ursa turn to face me.

I took a breath. I had to focus. The Ursa opened its jaw, coming in for a bite. I closed my eyes, and sensed only the essence of the monster.

My first blow struck the creature square where its nose would be, and my second strike found the exact same mark. I felt both of these reverberate through its essence. It was weakened severely; I needed one strike to finish it. I leapt into the air, spinning, before I slammed my foot into the creatures face. There was barely any resistance as it was destroyed finally.

I stood, breathing slowly. For a moment, its red eyes haunted me, but I pushed the thought out of my mind. I had enough troubles with things haunting me as it was. I took my blade, and continued on my journey.

For almost a month, that Ursa was the largest Grimm I encountered. I wished it had stayed that way.

I heard a low rumble from above the trees. It wasn't the same as the Ursa's growl. It sounded like an engine. I paused, lowering my blade, but not releasing it yet. There was a loud shriek, like the cry of a bird. My heart stilled. I'd only seen two Nevermore before, and I didn't care to see one again. I watched as a bullhead streaked across the sky, and a dark shape followed shortly behind. Through gaps in the trees, I saw the Nevermore latch onto the bullhead with its claws and shortly after that, a deafening crash confirmed my worst fears. With unnatural speed for someone so overworked, I began to move though the underbrush with no concern for who might hear.

When I reached the crash site, the Nevermore was picking at someone's intestines. Its beak was already stained red with blood. I saw someone move in the wreckage slightly. The Nevermore fixated on them, slowly starting to pace over, its head tilting side to side sporadically. I rose from my crouch, and slammed my blade into the ground. I took a step forwards, but I hesitated. If I fought the Nevermore, I left the blade open for long enough for someone to take it, even if won. And if I lost, then I would be practically handing the sword to that abomination that attacked me.

I watched as the Nevermore pinned the injured man down, a long, razor-like claw piercing the man's chest. The Nevermore watched him struggle for a moment, as if amused, before it plunged its beak into his back. I winced as the Nevermore ripped a bloodied spine from the man's back. I balled up my fists. If I fought the creature, I would die. That was sure. But was it better to live a coward than to die a hero?

A hero of who, I thought. They were dead. And if I died, I would leave the sword to the Grimm. True cowardice would be fighting that Nevermore, and giving up on protecting the sword.

So I sat and watched, helpless, as the Nevermore had its fill, before it cawed loudly and flew away. I waited until it was out of sight, then counted to 100 before I moved to check the bodies.

I didn't bother checking the bodies outside of the crash. The Nevermore had done that for me. I climbed into the wreckage.

Blood stained the walls. Mangled corpses covered the floor. I went through them all, one by one, checking their pulses. They were all long dead. I bent down over a child, a girl no older than five. I moved my hand to check her pulse.

Her eyes flicked open, blood red. Her hand grabbed mine, and although it only fit halfway around my wrist, her grip was like iron.

"You didn't save me." She said. "You couldn't save me." I recoiled in shock, trying to pull away from her. When I did, her eyes snapped shut and her hand fell to the ground.

"You didn't save me." A familiar voice rang out. My teacher, Valkoinen stood among the corpses. "You couldn't save me." I got to my feet, and threw a punch at him. He disappeared.

"Why did you save me, Son?" My father stood behind me. "You watched me burn." I turned and lashed out at him – it. It was a hallucination. My vision was beginning to blur.

"You failed them. You failed them all." The silver eyed girl was standing in the centre of the room. I could feel tears beginning to streak down my cheeks.

"No." I croaked. "I didn't fail them."

"Then why are they dead?" She said.

"You don't exist!" I yelled at it. "You don't belong here!"

"We don't exist because you failed us. Now we're dead, and the only place we're alive is inside of you, because you just can't let go."

I could only collapse to the ground and cry. For once, I forgot about the sword, and eventually drifted into the first uneasy, but real sleep in months.

A/N To be written