I - Disturbance

Hello folks, welcome to Successional, this is the first story I have written on this site. I've had this idea sprouting around for a while now but never ended up doing anything with it. I hope you give my story a chance to grow on you.

Edited: I was not happy with the chapter so I went back and changed it a bit. Please leave a review on what you think! :)

~~~(I)~~~

Ash and smoke filled the boy's lungs making most thoughts difficult 'Where do I go? How did this happen? More importantly, where is everyone?'

"Brother! Brother where are you!?" The only place on his mind was his home. He was too far from the main hall to get there safely. He gambled on his family seeking shelter at their house.

His shouts were lost in the din surrounding him. He could hear distant roars and sounds of combat, but was no closer to finding his family. "Fuck, Taxus, you better be somewhere safe!" Choking on smoke made it hard to move forward, but he pushed on.

Making his way home was a difficult task, Grimm and corpses of his peers were everywhere. His rifle's barrel was growing hot with the amount of rounds he was forced to use just to travel a single street. Occasionally he managed to save someone, but more often than not, his aid came too late.

"Come on, come on, Just a little bit further!"

After passing houses in various states of ruin and fire, he made his way to a familiar street. The building he called home was little more than a cabin, a hodgepodge of stone and timber that was meant for stability over style. The unburnt state of the home gave him a sharp sense of relief and released a thankful sigh.

"Thank the brothers, they haven't gotten here yet." Rushing to the door, he burst into the home only to wish he had not.

~~~(I)~~~

He awoke with a gasp and cold sweat all over him. "Not again, damnit." He sighed, trying to regain his breathing. "I… I need to calm down. Happy thoughts, Oxon, happy thoughts."

Negative emotions would spell his doom, yet trying to ignore the night time memory was difficult. But it had been over half a year since then, and he'd found little tricks to help. Breath exercises and focusing on happier days helped him dispel his negativity.

He left the warmth of his sleeping bag and moved over to a nearby tree. Glancing at the base, he saw the rope tied to the trunk and started to untie it. After slowly lowering his pack to the ground so he could look inside.

"Ahhh, there you are!" He said as he brought out his belt and sash. It was a simple thing, a knitted square sash affixed to a leather belt, roughly 4 inches across and 7 inches long. It was a leaf green color with a simple stylized white horse marking stitched into it.

"It's holding up well, all things considered. Glad that old Owl made you right." Homeless wanderings through Vale's lands weren't exactly expected. He blushed when he realized he was talking to an inanimate object. First sign of craziness. Great.

With a deep sigh and a glance at the cresting sun on the horizon, he decided it was about time to pack up and continue forward.

A quick look at his pack gave him a depressing look at his supplies. Six .357 rounds, thirteen .44 magnums, and only three days of dried venison from a previous kill.

Well, it could be four days if I skip a meal each day. But what I really need is another catch... Resigning himself to skipping breakfast to stretch his supplies, Oxon donned what was left of his armor and set forward toward his goal. His ammo was scarce and with his firearms rusting, their best use was for hunting, not battle anymore.

Using his felling ax as a walking stick, he continued south. It once shone proud, with its edges sharp enough to cut even an Ironwood tree. Now, both of its bearded blades were dulled with overuse and its handle was beginning to crack and splinter. It was built for woodcutting and the occasional Grimm, but over a month of trekking and Grimm slaying had taken its toll.

The rest of his gear has not fared much better. What was once shined brown leather had become scratched and ripped from grim and the wilds; its beautiful painted knotwork engravings had only a few flecks of color left. His fathers armor hardly fit him anymore and his father's symbol, the red and green fighting rooster, was barely able to be made out.

If Opal could see me now, a ragged fool wandering in search of humanity. Hell, I doubt she'd even recognize me, I've had to have lost at least 20 pounds from autophagy alone.

Reduced muscle and fat content of the body was beginning to truly take its toll on the boy. Once in prime health due to an accustomed life of hard labor and proper nutrition, his body had degraded into little more than a shell of itself. He got tired faster and was needing more and more food to keep his body from shutting down.

Oxon kept walking. He had to. Otherwise he might lay down again and never get back up. He gave himself maybe a week or two before even a creep would be enough to put him down.

I have to keep moving, I refuse to let them down. He no longer had the map, outdated as it was, or the compass his brother had pushed on him back at their settlement. It was lost when a Beowolf had chased him to a stream and the battle resulted in a ripped pouch, dropping supplies into the quick moving water.

I really have failed, haven't I? Hah, "better chance of survival" my foot, I'll die out here and our people will end with me. It should have been him...

At least the early morning sun makes orienteering easy. Heading in a southern direction and keeping to a nearby stream, his trek was slow but sure. He had been wandering ever since he left his mountain home, occasionally stumbling across villages and towns not marked on his map. Each showed telltale signs of ruin similar to his own. Burnt buildings, broken gates and walls, and remnants of whatever peoples used to inhabit them. He felt guilty raiding for what supplies he could, but he refused to let pride or guilt kill him. After all, survival is everything.

~~~(I)~~~

After a half day of walking and one meal of his venison later, he heard a commotion to the east. "People?" He asked aloud in wonder and hope. "Humans!"

A warning went off in his mind as his approach made him realize what he was hearing. Gunfire and screaming. Telltale signs of combat were easily heard in the direction he was headed.

It can't be grimm, I don't hear the telltale roars or screeches. Bandits? Soldiers?

It hardly matters, he'd take bandits and hostile Valean soldiers over crushing loneliness and starvation. He wouldn't like it but better than nothing.

Moving as quick as his strained body could, he made his way to where the struggle was taking place. The noise stopped suddenly, shooting a root of fear into his core. The fight was over, whatever that meant.

"Damnit, hold on whoever you are." Aura flashing as he rushed through brambles and branches into an open field with a dirt path.

I was walking next to a road this ENTIRE TIME!?

He didn't have enough time for self depreciation, he let out a frustrated growl as the source of noise came into view. What Oxon saw spurred him to move faster.

A man with a strange, giant sword stood over an unconscious woman. Charred earth and craters marred the area, clear signs of a battle. Whatever battle occurred just a few moments ago must have been fierce.

Oxon brought up his trust ax, the only weapon in reliable shape, and began a charge. He made his presence known to the probable bandit and away from the unconscious woman.

"Hey! Shit for Shorts!" Not the greatest taunt, but it did its job in distracting the bandit. And a bandit he had to be; hair and face as scruffy as his own and a complete lack of uniform told him he wasn't a knight or soldier. Their reaction speed was surprising. Pale red eyes snapping to Oxon in a moment.

"Moron, really gonna try your luck one on one?" The bandit mumbled as he brought up his sword.

In an instant, the bastard lashed out, slicing clean through the ax handle as if it were kindling. The momentum continued and the starved boy hardly had time to feel fear when the blade crashed into his forehead, knocking him to the ground. If not for his aura, he would have lost a little bit of height.

"She must be really scraping the bottom of the barrel if you're what constitutes a secondary ambush." The strange man said.

Stars were dancing in his vision as Oxon tried to get his bearings. I'm still alive, so my aura held. But this bastard clearly outclasses me.

His thoughts were interrupted when the sensation of a blade was felt on his neck.

"Not gonna say this twice kid, surrender now and you can come out of this with only that much pain."

Well shit…

"F-fuck you bandit. I ain't gonna let you get away with this." He spat, attempting to get a hand under himself to rise up. "Didn't your parents teach you banditry is a sin?"

"You'd be surprised at what my dear parents taught me. But you think I'm a bandit? Buddy, that's pretty rich coming from a guy that tried to assault a huntsman." The bandit, no, this "huntsman" said using more pressure with his weapon. "We can do this the easy way, or the easy way."

"Wh-why are they both easy?" Oxon gasped, struggling from beneath the massive blade. "What kind of options are those?"

"Well, easy option number one is you surrender and I take you in" The bastard said and started to chuckle. "And option number two is to kick your ass unconscious and take you away once my backup arrives. Either option would take little effort for me."

"How about option three?"

The older man looked a little bemused at that. "And what would that be?"

"You let me go? Bygones be bygones, maybe give me directions to a town or something?"

"Heh, funny, Too bad freedom got scratched out the moment you sprung from the bushes." The man said, kicking away what was left of the ax. "Don't worry though, I'm sure you'll be just fine, just about anything could be a step up from the looks of ya."

He's got me there, I probably look about as intimidating as a maple seedling. I must look like a real mess...

When there was clearly no sign of resistance or any scheming, the huntsman eased the pressure and pulled out some kind of communications device and started to speak. "Hey, I made it in time, barely by the looks of things. Amber is in a bad way." The man said, glancing at the lady I tried to help.

Oxon was quickly just how much he'd screwed up. I'm an idiot, he was helping her. I rushed the person who was actually trying to help… In his eyes I'm definitely the bad guy.

"Yeah, got another one here too, looks like he's been missing a few too many meals and has the fashion sense of a certain group we know. Sure, I'll ask." The caped man turned to Oxon and pulled the, whatever it was, away from his face. "You know raven? Big bitch with a stupid mask?"

Oxon shook his head, he didn't know anyone alive by that description. Sure, Corvus was a bit of an eccentric with an odd helmet, but he was a guy, and dead.

"Nah, not one of hers, I'll question on the flight back."

With the conversation moving towards him, Oxon tried to make himself as unthreatening as he could. It didn't help his emotions when that red eyed demon continued the conversation and looked at him. "So you ain't part of Raven's little gang, who are ya and where are ya from? Or are ya gonna try and be clever again?" The sentence was punctuated with one of the smuggest grins Oxon had ever seen.

Weakness and shame welled up in his core. Oxon didn't like the way he spoke to him, but he had the feeling he'd sniff out a lie as easily as he broke the ax. "My name is Oxon Adhmad, I'm the last survivor of the Prism."

"Prism? Can't say I ever heard of that place, though, hell if I know where people settle these days." He said, taking in my appearance with a little more focus. "I'm guessing we got off on the wrong foot, kid. Or Oxon, I guess. My name is Crow, Crow Branwen, huntsman of Vale. Before you ask, it's with a 'Q', blame my bitch of a mom."

As a dull rumbling began to be heard over in the distance, the only thing that came to mind was a question burning in his head. "The hell is a huntsman?"

~~~(I)~~~

End note: Thus ends Chapter one and we meet everyone's favorite walking AA advertisement and his wonderful bad luck. The confusion Oxon has at certain terms and tech like the scroll will make sense when his backstory gets revealed more as the story progresses.

The survival facts in this chapter are accurate and realistic. Training, education, and experience in the wilderness and forestry helped me make the chapter as realistic as can be; except for a few embellishments and tweaks to make it interesting.

Remember kids, in survival situations, rabbit is not a reliable source of nutrition, starving to death via rabbit diet is fact. The body needs fat to live. Trout is also a bad choice unless abundant and little energy is needed to catch. Many survival situations come to untimely ends from many factors, but finding edible plants and fresh water can help extend it enough for help to arrive.