Author Note: Hello again! I have thus delivered onto my promise! Well, we'll see if this bears noticeable fruit at some point in time. I'm so joyful like a certain knight who wished to be so grossly incandescent as the sun. (Wish you were still here, old friend...) My reason for this joy is that there are more people liking this story and are quite intrigued by it. You all have my sincerest of gratitude. Praise the SUN! \[T]/
Also: I don't own RWBY or Dark Souls.
"Men are props on the stage of life, and no matter how tender, how exquisite…. A lie will remain a lie!" - A certain scholar.
"Umm, not at the moment, but…." Hershel placed a hand on Jade's shoulder with a firm, calloused grip. "Excuse us for a bit, I need to have a talk with my family for just a moment."
He nodded and let them off into their private discussion.
Dajorn was truly grateful to these ones that have saved his and Priscilla's life back in the forest. Were it not for them, he'd have already been mauled to death by that humongous abyssal creature called a Grimm. And Priscilla would be unable to finish the new painting…..
That's right. The painting must be finished, but how?
"I simply need a large canvas," Priscilla stated blankly. "I still have what you have given me, Da…." She placed a finger on her chin, "Forgive me, I've already forgotten our new names that thou hast bestowed upon us. What were they again?" She sat in a weird position on a chair that was adjacent to the one he was laying in and leaned slightly towards him for emphasis.
"Your name is Priscilla." He said with a nostalgic tone, "And mine is Dajorn."
She thought over for a minute and smiled slightly, "I like it, but why Priscilla?" He closed his eyes, vividly remembering entering a similar painting long ago. In it, there stood a being that was half human and half dragon. A crossbreed. Was it okay to leave her there? To slowly rot away as that world did? Maybe that's why the name befitted her since, for some odd reason, the Painter reminded him so much of one of the few kind souls during that dreadful time.
"It's just a unique name that I once heard of, that's all." He'd lie, of course, she didn't need to know the fate of the former predecessor. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Dajorn broke it by sitting up. He stretched his arms with a gesture of praising the sun, "Back onto the topic, you just need a canvas?" His eyebrow rose in inquiry, there has to be some catch.
"I do need a large canvas to engrave a cold, dark, and gentle world into it. But, I don't think that this is the best place suited to paint, don't you think?" He looked around, and she was right, there'd be distractions, whereas the Ariandel Chapel is serene and the only noise was the bristling wind of winter air. The wooden floor was too creaky, multiple voices could be heard outside, and it just doesn't seem safe, but that must've been his paranoia. Years of fighting in dangerous environments can attend to making it a habit of doubting safety.
Dajorn nodded his head in agreement. "Quite so, yet we can't leave too soon. We ought to recuperate and find out where we are. Though, there is still one more thing I must discuss with you."
Meanwhile….
Hershel paced back and forth in his bedroom, curious and concerned over two people he's barely known for half an hour. His wife, Carrie demanded to know why on Remnant her daughter and husband brought complete strangers into their home.
"Can you two please tell me what's going on?" She asked in an irritated tone.
Hershel sighed, "Tell her what you told me about them." And Jade began telling Carrie about how she found him and the lizard faunus with ridiculously long hair. As well as how they didn't quite remember their names at the time.
The mother wolf sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed her temples, "This is so frustrating." First, news of human huntsman and huntresses coming to shadow the local sheriff is tomorrow. That alone is already bad news, given the mindsets of many faunus here. Then, two mysterious travelers come in and one of them is a human! They'd be lucky if nothing else happens like a Goliath Grimm coming in and wreaking havoc.
"We may as well go and properly introduce ourselves then." Carrie got up from her bed and opened the door with a look of defeat and a hint of annoyance.
"Should we ever come into battle again and I won't be able to protect you, there will have to be changes and alterations. One such case is your hair."
Priscilla grabbed her hair in defense, "My hair? What of it, Ash-" she corrected herself, "Dajorn?"
"You must be able to evade the attacker at all costs, thus, we ought to shorten it. Minimizing the chance of you perishing."
She thought over it, grasping handfuls of her hair. During the times in the chapel, there wasn't a need to manage a trivial thing as hair, but now? Those long locks felt so precious and priceless.
"It doesn't have to be done right now. Maybe when I get my hands on some scissors or a knife, in the meantime, I believe they've finished their chat." He looked to the left of the living room to see Hershel, Jade, and Carrie coming out with mixed emotions. One was concerned, another wary, and the last confused.
"Sorry for the wait." Hershel sat down in a wooden chair opposite of Dajorn's. "We were discussing what to do with you." He glanced to see Carrie still by the bedroom door frame, leaning on it. "I want to ask: Where did you two come from? And why were you in that forest?"
"We come from Ariandel." Priscilla stated, "Tis a cold and dark place that has a lasting winter."
"Atlas then?" Carrie inquired, "You're a long way from home if that freezing tundra is where you came from. I'm guessing that this Ariandel is a village or town?"
"I doubt that they'd believe we came out of a painting," Dajorn steeled himself and hoped that this Atlas is similar to Ariandel in a way.
"Yes, but what we were doing in that forest, I cannot tell you. It's a personal mission of ours."
Priscilla looked perturbed about the act of lying. Atlas was definitely not Ariandel, she'd ask him when they were alone about deceiving those who saved their lives.
"Alright then, mind telling us the relationship between the two of you? A faunus alongside a human is quite rare to see around here." Carrie asked further.
"I am her caretaker or a guardian in that sense." They looked to Priscilla for confirmation, in which she verified it. "Indeed, he is. Although I used to have an uncle."
"Where is he now?" Hershel asked out of curiosity.
"He's no longer with us." Her eyes looked downward. "He would've been thrilled to see this place…."
"Oh, forgive me. I didn't mean to-"
"Thy intentions are kind, tis good, but I wish to not dwell on it."
Jade dismantled the somber mood by pointing out that both are in dire need of new clothes. One didn't have shoes and a robe that was far too big, and the other's was ripped and torn by vicious beowolves.
"Dajorn can borrow some of my clothes, though we can ask Ms. Oak if she still has some her of daughter's old outfits."
Carrie glared at them both, she is already foreseeing what's about to happen.
He's gonna do it, isn't he? Her husband is going to ask them both to stay here for a while.
"Why not stay here for a couple nights?" Hershel did what had been predicted.
"If that is fine with your betrothed, we would gladly accept." Dajorn smiled at the distressed wolven woman who tried to hold back her angry intentions. They all looked at her and she forced herself to smile and said with gritted teeth, "Of course, honey! I'll go visit her soon."
The rest of the evening will be tiresome, for now though, Dajorn and Priscilla got situated into a guest room, which was basically a storage room meant for miscellaneous items. Two bedrolls laid out next to each other, one blue and the other red. Retrieving the new apparel proved to be difficult mostly for Priscilla, whereas Dajorn got accustomed to a simple black shirt with strange blue trousers that made a weird noise whenever he walked and leather boots that had been worn over the years. A shame there wasn't a way to get his bottomless box, he'd actually consider wearing a full set of that immovable armor Havel once wore than being subjected to danger so easily. On the other hand, Priscilla finally agreed to wear shoes and allowing Carrie to wash the grey robe and shorten it down, so she won't trip on it. The hat stayed and she wore black shoes that made it up to her ankles. A strange four-star symbol was on it with the words 'Donverse' inscribed in red lettering. They were apparently Jade's old shoes back when she was about Priscilla's presumed age of a child. Towards the end of the day, the two guests laid in their beds, unknown to the strange wonders of the things they've seen in the household of their hosts: Strange little people on a moving mirror, an advanced light source capable of turning itself off and on with a flick of a tiny switch, and the water machination! T'was far better than any bath that Gwyn (If he ever did take baths) had taken.
This felt like the first time in ages that Dajorn had truly felt safe. There weren't any nasty creepy crawlies trying to make a home out of one's orifices, or a hollow attempting to slice your throat while trying to recover some stamina. It was a true sanctuary.
Or was it?
"Hey, you've seen those two people that Hershel and his young'un brought in, right?" One deer faunus asked in the cold moonlight, guarding the entryway to the small village.
"Yep, one of them was a lizard faunus, I think." Replied a cat faunus. "What of the other?"
"Didn't get a good look at em. Rumors are going around that they're harboring a human."
The cat chuckled, "Don't kid around like that, you know what the sheriff will do if you talk bad about humans."
Scoffing, the deer went on, "Who cares what that human lover thinks. Just cause he's a man of law, ain't mean that he can tell us what we think of those who treat us like trash."
Ting. Tang. Tong.
They both stopped talking once they heard a bell. A soft ringing was accompanied by tiny clanging chimes as it went throughout the forest.
"I'm not crazy, you hear that?" The deer asked with a little perspiration falling down his forehead.
Tong. Tang. Ting. It sounded like a shaky hand was wringing it, eager and scared at the same time.
Tong. Tong. Tang. Tang. Ting…
A warping sound reverberated throughout the forest, scaring off the nocturnal creatures that hid within the forest. They both trusted their eyes, allowing the natural night vision to reveal whatever was ringing the eerily bell.
A strange person came out of the forest, wearing a wizard's robe?
"Hey, you're not supposed to be out there! It's dangerous, that's common knowledge!" The deer yelled.
They approached closer, this time pulling out a fine shaped staff of wood.
"Uh, what're you doing with that stick?" The cat slowly pulled out his revolver, loading a fire dust round in the chamber.
A hissing sound could be heard from the staff. Then, a bright blue ball of something flew out and pierced the cat, bypassing his aura. What was left was a man without his soul as he dropped to the ground dead.
The wizard raised the staff once more to form five spherical balls of blue light that surrounded their summoner.
The deer turned back and tried to run, only to bump into another figure. One taller and wearing a blackened set of robes with a hood and a mask that covered abyss-black eyes. The mysterious hooded figure attempted to stab him, but it felt a tinge of resistance from aura-shielding, but with one more final push, slowly sank a jagged dagger deep into his gut. Whoever made a wicked blade with barbs is cruel as it sunk deeper in, twisting and turning and tearing away insides as if they were mush. He fell down, the feeling of his soul leaving his body was pure agony.
The hooded man stood there, watching his victim's life ooze away, with eyes that care not for a meaningless life.
"Can't you sense it?" A deep voice emerged from him, his wizard companion following behind. "The Dark Soul of Man. It's here, after all this time."
That's the end of this 4th chapter! I only hope you've enjoyed this, though I'm still questioning this particular chapter. We'll see how it all goes down. If you liked it, awesome. If not, then darn. I hope to see you all at the decrepit gate of this story next Saturday, without really knowing why.