It was on that note that Marigold smoothly shut the book.
"Wait, that's it?" Braun asked, disappointed at how quickly they had finished. "I thought we would be going over more than that."
"I believe that's enough of a starting point," she stated, laying the book on the table. "You've got quite a lot of work ahead of you for tonight, and I would rather have my listener prepared for the longer tales."
"Still…" he trailed off. "There isn't anything else you can fit in?" he asked, having only tasted the tiniest morsel of what was promised.
"There is," she acknowledged with a nod. "But considering you still need to acquaint yourself with your lodgings and read through the collection I gave you, I imagine you'll appreciate the extra time."
Seeing he was ready to argue the point, Marigold sighed and put forward one last statement: "This was the shortest story by far. If you want to hear the following ones in one piece, and I strongly recommend you do, then this is the best option."
Seeing that he wasn't going to be making headway anytime soon, and privately acknowledging that his host had a point, Braun conceded the argument and began gathering his things.
"So," he asked as he slipped his notebook back into the pack. "Where exactly is the house I'll be staying in?"
"On the outskirts of the residential section, by the tallest tree. Head left after you get outside and you'll be on the right track." Marigold pointed in the aforementioned direction. "Would you prefer I arrange for a guide?"
Braun shook his head. "No, I'd prefer to find my own way there. Call me old-fashioned, but I always found it better to get a feel for the area when I go somewhere new."
"An explorer to the core I see." Marigold laughed. "Very well. Have a good night and I'll expect you back here by nine-thirty tomorrow morning."
With that, they parted ways for the night. Braun exited Marigold's home and began the trek to his temporary dwelling, doing his best to take in as much of his surroundings as possible.
As he walked further towards his destination, the differences between households became apparent: the ornate carvings and assorted decorations giving way to plain signs and handmade trinkets. The storyteller was highly valued indeed if her residence was located so deeply in the affluent part of town.
The villagers themselves, what few were still out, seemed fairly typical. Braun could see a man haggling with a butcher over the price of his meat, a mother guiding her child towards what he assumed was their home, and a guard passing through on patrol, identifiable by the light armor covering their body as well as the sheathed blade at their hip.
The strange part was the disparity, or lack thereof, between the two areas. No matter where he had gone in his travels, there was always a noticeable difference in the experiences between the well-off and the less so.
Those living in the poorer sections of towns/cities tended towards the more cautious and observant end of the scale, a side-effect of having fewer resources or even rights. When every purchase counts or offending the wrong person can cost you everything, caution becomes a survival trait.
That wasn't the case here. Everyone, regardless of status, seemed to feel perfectly safe and secure. He got a few glances from people for his nature as a foreign presence, but the worst that got was a single person frowning at the sight of him.
It was something that made no sense. He was an outsider in a community that had existed independent of outside interaction for centuries, even with a respected figure vouching for him there should be some actual hostility towards him.
The question of why this place specifically was different from every other community he had ever encountered dominated Braun's thoughts for the rest of his walk. Pushing his observations about the landmarks and architecture to the back of his mind.
Remnant was a world built on the fear of what's lurking in the dark. Where a single bad day can destroy lives and the world outside the walls, for everyone not fortunate enough to live in the better-off parts of the kingdoms, is full of things just waiting for a chance to wreak havoc.
If there was one benefit to Braun's work, it was that he got a first-hand look at how the residents of wherever he was visiting thought about the outside world.
It was never quite clear how much of the stories were born from experience or the behavior from the stories, but there was enough evidence to confirm a connection between the two. Though the effect was mainly notable beyond the kingdom's walls, where such experiences were far more plausible.
Stories about youkai raiding the community and dragging away people or valuables, Oni were often used to represent the former act and Tengu the latter, usually indicated that the community was cautious about individuals and outright paranoid when faced with larger groups.
Places that passed down tales more about creatures lying in wait to ambush travelers; such as Kappa hiding in rivers, the ever-elusive creature of between, or the occasional witch in the woods, tended towards a more welcoming nature. They wouldn't blindly trust, but newcomers were seen more as refugees fleeing the dangers outside the walls than invaders.
Worst of all were the communities where legends of inhuman figures disguising themselves to corrupt and mislead the unsuspecting people circulated. Whether they spoke of an Amanojaku sowing contradiction and madness, vampires turning people into livestock, or a particularly malevolent witch cursing the populace, those places were often the most paranoid and intolerant.
Occasionally, there were brighter places, places where the locals spoke of spirits and the balance between the world and its inhabitants. They didn't judge for one's nature, only their actions. So long as you respected them, they could respect you. But even then, the line between native and outsider was painfully obvious.
Regardless of the differences, each of those settings feared the unknown and tried to adapt to it in some way. Whether by defenses, vigil, or laws, they would draw together in pursuit of a society where the 'other' could be identified and/or repelled.
It was simply an inevitable consequence of the awareness that there were actual monsters bent on the destruction of all that humanity held dear, that there were people no better than the Grimm ravaging the world.
Even the most generous and well-off groups would be disturbed by the addition of a complete stranger, if only because said stranger would be out of sync with the rest of them.
That was what made the inhabitants of Deiri so offputting. They didn't so much as break stride at his presence despite the village having, from what he'd seen so far, the most comprehensive list of reasons to beware the unknown of anyone he'd ever known.
Yet, they went on with their day like nothing was out of the ordinary. Like a strange man with a weapon dangling from his hip wasn't walking past them and even their children in the dark. That was a sense of security you saw in gated neighborhoods with huntsmen bodyguards, not from a village in the middle of nowhere.
So caught up was Braun in unraveling this mystery, that he nearly walked by a sign labeled "guest."
It took him a minute to realize that he had arrived at his destination: a simple one-floor wooden cottage, lacking the decorations or personal touches he had seen on other homes.
He tested the door, finding that it was unlocked, before striding inside to get a look at his living space.
As Marigold had said, the buildings' furnishings were sparse. The living room which he had stepped into only had a table and two chairs, the kitchen contained a set of basic utensils and plates, along with a tea kettle and pan, the bathroom consisted of a tub and a toilet, and the bedroom was just a bed and a dresser.
Seeing as he had an hour or two before he would need to get some sleep, Braun opted to get a better look at the book he had been lent.
He fished out the collection, along with a pen and blank notebook, and laid them side-by-side on the table. With that done, he dropped the pack by the nearest chair and sat down, flipping both books open, making sure to leave the blank book a few pages in, and beginning to read the collection.
It began with a fairly simple foreword, a message from the author to future members of their clan, emphasizing the variety and danger of youkai as well as the importance of keeping them in check.
Contrary to his expectations, they clarified that this did not mean exterminating every youkai that could be found. Not only would that likely just result in the clan killing itself off trying, but there was an entire ecosystem of supernatural creatures, and destabilizing it would just cause more chaos.
No, the purpose of the book was, aside from providing vital information about youkai, was to help the reader understand the delicate balance of power and how they could use it to their advantage in the battle against supernatural threats.
With that explanation out of the way, he began browsing the entries on various species. Each contained a brief summary of their nature, history, innate abilities, vulnerabilities, and potential methods for dealing with them.
From what Braun could determine, every subject was listed in sections based on their nature, broken into combinations of two sets of traits. Behavior: passive, reactive, chaotic, active, and aggressive. And mentality: negotiable, alien, variable, predatory, and malevolent.
It was quite a neat system, allowing the owner to narrow down or identify subjects with only basic information regarding their activities. He was fairly sure he'd seen huntsmen with something similar for Grimm, just without the passive or negotiable sections.
Though, despite the names, those just meant that the youkai in question weren't starting problems and could be negotiated with respectively. A passive youkai could still wreak havoc just by existing or due to provocation, and just because an amicable one could be talked around doesn't mean it would be. Or that the compromise would be pleasant.
Since the entries were listed by combination, passive/negotiable to aggressive/malevolent, the first species listed was the inchlings. A race of tiny people who largely kept to themselves, living in tiny villages, with one named Issun-boushi being listed as having his own tale.
The entry noted that they were fairly easy to avoid or resolve conflict with, just show them the kind of respect you would give other people, but also that, if sufficiently angered, they would use their size to terrorize offenders without being noticed. Slowly driving their foes' lives into the dirt.
Though on the off-chance you ended up living in the same place as one and developed a good relationship, they could bring good fortune upon the dwelling and its residents.
The information was interesting but didn't truly catch his attention like some of the entries he'd browsed earlier, so he made a few notes and moved on.
He went through a few more entries, but his thoughts kept getting drawn to something he had seen during his skimming of the book earlier. An entry in the chaotic/variable section that had seemed familiar.
After several moments of searching, he found it. Tsukumogami, items that attained sentience a hundred years after their creation.
The concept was something that had actually been debated in Remnant's recorded history. Several scientists and even huntsmen had brought forward the question of if aura could be infused into inanimate objects, then could such items retain or even generate the energy?
Could they come to life?
The idea was eventually deemed impossible, at least as far as he knew, and the closest any studies got was the confirmation that equipment that had both special importance to the user and extended use could channel aura more smoothly and to greater effect.
Braun pulled the pouch from around his neck and opened it, rummaging for a handful of moments before finding what he was looking for: a length of gold chain, the circular links worn from age and exposure, the metal blackened in places, and cracked at the ends where it had been shattered.
Even broken it carried a weight to it, the feeling that it had existed long before your oldest-known ancestor had been born and would continue to do so after your body had become dust.
He didn't like to take it out if he could avoid it. If it wasn't for the feeling that chucking it would just cause problems where he can't see it, he would have stuffed it in the deepest darkest hole he could find. The object simply radiated malice towards people, and he was fairly sure some of the mishaps he'd gotten himself into had been helped along by the relic.
But it was proof. That he hadn't been crazy, that those old stories were more than just stories, and that what he went through with that cult had been real. Even if it made his life harder, he would bear the burden a hundred times for that reassurance.
Turning the links over in his hand, the archaeologist gazed down at the name engraved in the metal. Sadly, parts of the writing had been rendered illegible by charring, but a handful of letters could still be made out.
Ab_i_.
"Was that what you were?" he asked the chain. "A tsukumogami?"
It would certainly explain a lot. He hadn't been paying as much attention to the specter's ranting as he should have, too preoccupied with surviving its wrath and desperately trying to figure out how to fight back, but it had very definitely been connected to the chain in his hand.
Given the damage to the object, its estimated age, and how the book specifies that their treatment as an item shapes their nature as a being, he could imagine a lot of possible reasons for the spirit to become the way it was. None of them pleasant.
To think, that whole mess had started because he wanted to get a look at a pre-Sol Empire ruin. Getting kidnapped by the cultists who had set up a twisted church there hadn't been part of the plan. Neither had ending up in a desperate battle against their subject of worship.
The temperature suddenly appeared to drop ten degrees, goosebumps forming on the flesh of the arm holding the chain.
Rather than panic at the strange occurrence, Braun just shot an exasperated look at the object.
"I know that you don't like me, but it would really help if you gave an answer besides murderous intent," he complained. "It's not like I don't know something's up, you've been much more active since we got here."
The chain remained silent, but the feeling conveyed the sensation that if it had eyes it would be trying to kill the man with it's glare.
"Look, I'm sorry for breaking your headdress or whatever that was meant to be, but if I hadn't you would have killed me."
The murderous aura emitting from the item made it clear that it considered such an outcome perfectly acceptable.
"You're as much a ray of sunshine as always," he groused. "Could you at least tell me if I'm right about you being a tsukumogami? Wouldn't it be more annoying for me to call you the wrong thing?"
After several moments, which Braun suspected were devoted to considering if spiting him was worth the aggravation, the pressure and temperature in the air lightened slightly.
"I'll take that as a yes." He smiled, satisfied with finally getting an answer out of his unwilling companion.
As he made to put the chain back in the pouch, he paused and looked back down at his hand.
"I'm not sure this will ever happen, but if you do ever decide you want to tell me about you and your owner's history, I'll be waiting," the pressure returned two-fold, the metal itself seeming to heat up.
"Because they and you deserve to be remembered," he carried on. Ignoring the steadily-growing warmth in his palm. "Even with everything you've done, your story deserves to be told."
An image of the spirit during their battle flashed before his eyes: her burning red eyes, inhuman purple skin, long white hair fanned out in defiance of gravity, and the ebony chains attached to her form whipping through the air. A monster who cursed humans and faunus alike and sowed paranoia and suffering among them without the slightest hint of remorse.
But he also remembered that last moment, right before his explosive arrow shattered the golden links making up her headdress. For that single instant before her body ceased to exist, the malevolent specter vanished and in her place was something else entirely.
A blonde child staring at him with a tear-stained face and terrified brown eyes.
The entry said that how a tsukumogami thinks and acts depends largely on how their object was treated. Those that are cherished and taken care of spawn kind and helpful beings. Those that are abused and abandoned become malicious and resentful.
For all of the spirit's tricks and manipulations, that final sight was painfully genuine. Despite it's hatred of people, and the malice and suffering that it exuded with every act, the core of the being had been a terrified little girl lashing out at the world.
It didn't excuse anything she'd done, didn't change that she would kill him or worse without the slightest bit of regret, but it made her understandable. It wasn't like Remnant's other inhabitants had any better track record when it came to getting along.
And he hoped that one day, he might learn what drove the being to such lengths. And perhaps, devise a way to spare others the same fate, or even alleviate her hatred.
Musings completed, Braun held the chain over the pouch and let go. The cord tugging on the back of his neck as the object hit the bottom of the container.
With that done, he turned his attention back towards the book. He'd spent enough time indulging his curiosity and there was still plenty of work to be done.
Reaching over to his right, he opened the notebook before using his left hand to flip the anthology's pages back until it once again displayed the beginning of the foreword.
Stretching his arms out, hands hovering over the left edges of their respective books, the archaeologist prepared for the next step.
"Okay," he muttered to himself. "Time to get started."
With an exercise of will and the comforting flow of his aura, he slowly moved his hands to the right. The text passing under his left hand being copied onto the blank notebook pages under his right.
After several moments, the process was complete. The contents of the left book's pages had been flawlessly recreated on the right books.
Looking at the fruits of his labor, the corner of Braun's mouth curved up into a faint smirk. His semblance might not be something big and flashy like the Schnee's, but damn if it wasn't perfect for his career.
Not to say that copying and duplicating images was useless combat-wise, it had saved his life more than a few times, but he'd heard more than enough jokes about paper pushers from those who found out about it.
Still, he did wish it wasn't so picky about the time. If he didn't want to wait several seconds for each transcription, he's stuck having to pay more aura to speed things up.
Looking at the several hundred pages of the anthology yet unread or copied, the young man let out a groan of despair and allowed his head to fall forward onto the desk.
This was going to take a while…
And that's the last of my early rush. Seeing as I'd broken these chapters up a bit, I opted to post the first three in quick succession. Following updates will have some more time between them.
Anyway, this is where I actually start to lay the groundwork for the fused setting and the ripples that it creates for Remnant. The place was already a death world, so having intelligent creatures deliberately sowing fear has created something of a darker and more distrustful attitude for areas not protected as thoroughly as the kingdoms.
The section with Braun and the unnamed youkai is mainly meant to confirm that, yes there are actually still youkai running around, but there is something else to it that I'm curious if anyone figured out.