Ok, this chapter is a serious downer. Like, really fucking depressing. But, I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't grounded in the world. Also:
WARNING! This chapter contains a lot of gore. And a tad bit of disturbing imagery. You have been warned!
There will be a question in the end, so if you don't want to read the chapter, just skip all the way to the bottom and look.
Ghosts, he saw,
He failed,
He buried.
Jaune Arc had failed. That was it. Plain and simple. He had come by too late. Though, considering the state of decay of some of the more open bodies, it wouldn't have mattered in the first place. Perhaps a few days had passed since the town of Reli had fallen. It was a small town, it was always at risk. It wasn't on any of the major rivers, with only one minor one passing through it. It didn't even have walls, merely guard towers manned by men with rifles. Men with rifles that were overwhelmed and killed, just like the rest. Jaune had heard that there was a town in the middle of a Grimm surge and thought it'd be a good idea to stop by and help clear them out.
He probably should've expected this.
"God damnit." Jaune swore, he was doing postmortems now. He was noticing little things. Like how one man's broken bones meant that he probably died falling from the tower, the cuts in his flesh merely worsening his dying pain or desecration of the corpse. He noticed how there was one man who died in his car, wound in his neck and the smashed roof consistent with the beak and talons of a giant nevermore. He noticed too much, he had to stop noticing things.
And then, in the hands of a gardener whose clothes were eviscerated, he saw a shovel.
Jaune knew what he had to do.
He took the shovel. By the time he left, Reli and its inhabitants would get proper burials.
Yue Xin was a young and happy man, a potter by trade. Reli had a lot of natural clay nearby, good quality clay. While the locals did love them, Reli brought home the bread for his wife, Ai, by selling the pots to trade caravans that occasionally came by. They paid enough for Xin to afford a house in Reli. The land was cheap, the clay was plentiful, and the people were friendly. Sure, there was the risk of Grimm, but at the time of him purchasing the house, the swelling of Grimm in the area and the shortage of hunters in Mistral weren't problems.
Jaune found the man in his house, dead. His hands were stained with dried clay, probably working when the disaster started. He had died with a knife in his hands, protecting his spouse. Though he failed, Jaune would honor the gesture all the same.
Jaune looked over Xin's body. As Jaune had noted before, he was a young adult, around 28. He got the name from the ID card that he found in his dresser. And from the name, Xin seemed to be from central Mistral. Place of birth? One of the larger towns in Mistral, Yangzte, which was the namesake for the river. It was a safe town, high walls manned with guns, running water and plenty of farms inside it, on top of the fact that one of the main Mistrali riverways ran through it.
Why did he have to move to Reli, Jaune wondered. Sure, the clay was good, but an unwalled town was still a risk, no matter how low local Grimm levels were at the time.
"Let's see." Jaune's mind moved automatically, he was central Mistralian, and from the looks of it, he was a Shuiren, at least that's what it looked like from the tattoos on his arm. Like the rivers from where his ancestors reportedly came from. It also made sense with his trade. His clothes were light, perfect for waterwork, a t-shirt and shorts. The t-shirt was tight on Xin's curvy belly, probably for the best. Loose clothes and water didn't mix very well. His wounds were severe. He likely had fought a Beowolf, from how the frame of the door to the house had been ripped apart, the door with it. The claws of the beast had torn Yue's arm clean off, Jaune finding strips of gore and the severed appendage nearby.
Jaune moved on from such a grim matter to lighter things. The man liked his eggs, for one. Jaune could see bits of burnt white on the bottom of the frying pan, as well as several cartons of eggs in the fridge. In the counter under the sink were bags of rice, where there also hid some cash. Maybe they were saving up for something?
Then Jaune moved to Xin's wife, Ai. He had an idea as to why Xin moved from Yangtze when he saw scales covering parts of her skin. Mistral used to have a racial caste system, where Faunus generally were kept at the bottom. While it had been officially removed, many attitudes and laws from that time were still followed, as tradition moreso than set in stone law. One of those being that inter-caste marriage was outlawed. Focusing on other things, she died from the Beowolf cleaving her back, rending the spine and tearing apart organs. Jaune suffered it all, somehow holding his stomach in as he gathered her viscera and wrapped a cloth around her back.
Ai had a single onyx earring in her right ear. It looked old, like an item of the family. But Jaune didn't have the right or the assurance to take it. So he grabbed a blanket and rolled her up in it. He did the same with Xin. The house itself was rather small, with only three rooms: The living room containing the kitchen, the bedroom, and the bathroom. They had a TV, though it could only play tapes. Jaune could see they were a fan of superhero movies, like a few old X-Ray and Vav ones.
Looking around, it seemed that Ai was the painter of the duo. There were portraits and landscapes hung around, all with the same distinctive style. The pots were colored as well, the paint's texture unique. Jaune could practically feel it as he stared at the dried pigment. He took a look at her corner of the living room to see that, indeed, her paint bottles were all stock ones filled with a variety of custom made paints. She also had jars of ingredients that she probably mixed in order to give the paint, especially for the pottery, just the right texture.
Ai seemed to be fond of drawing her husband, painting his slightly chubby features and short hair with care and detail. She was quite enamored with him, it seemed. And it went both ways. While not as excessive as his wife's displays, Xin had a small pendant on his neck that contained a picture of her.
"Well, you two would want to be together." By then, Jaune had wrapped both of the bodies up in their spare blankets. He didn't have any crematory wrap, so he had to make do with what he had. So, he dragged them outside before doing a hasty cremation by making a bonfire with torn up planks of wood and lighting it with the bodies on it. He tossed same old paper lien and eggs as sacrifice, and then went back into the house to clean it up.
It was messy, to say the least. The pair also seemed to like their reading. While Xin appreciated relaxing tourist guides, Ai seemed to enjoy fantastical stories about vivid journies through magical places. Both liked exploring these worlds that they could never access, it appeared.
People out here needed their hobbies. Jaune did as well.
He really needed a better hobby.
But, he had neither the time, space, carrying capacity, nor will to pick one up. And the thought was just as easily discarded as the pieces of trash that littered the house. He swept up splinters and shards of glass, he wiped up blood and gore, and he even did some work on the broken door frame. He put books back in their shelves, paint brushes in their jars, put chairs back up and into their respective tables, and even made the bed once more, straightening the sheets and blanket as well as fluffing the pillows.
With some final checks to the bottoms of the furniture to see if he missed a spot, he left the house to find the bonfire spent, only ashes remaining.
Jaune pulled out a pot, what looked to be the best of the bunch, and scraped the ashes into it for carrying. He then walked over to the river and spread the ashes into it, letting the flow carry Xin and Ai together to their new home in the afterlife.
"It is in passing, in which we achieve immortality." Jaune spoke loud, so even the spirits may hear him give the two dead one last honor, their last rites. "In the flow we enter, in the flow we trust, and in the flow we live, and in the flow we die. Cast back into the waves, returning to the primordial sea, by my shoulder, and with heavy heart, I set thee free, and cast thee back from whence you came."
The Shuiren believed they came from the rivers. And so, they wanted their ashes to be put in them. Let the river carry them until they're united with their loved ones in the Palace of the River God.
Jaune nodded in respect to the two people he was just starting to know, yet knew nothing of, and moved on.
Two lovers in their final embrace sounded quite romantic on paper. And that was just it, on paper. It sounded quite romantic when all you could see is a blood-free body that probably died to 'imaginary-itis' or skeletons posed together. It became a lot less romantic and a lot more gross when the two lovers in question had their viscera mixed together.
Jaune really hated that about the Grimm. The gore they created. It was messy, it was painful, and it was quite nauseating. Not just the look of red staining the walls and carpet and sheets, but also the smell. The smell of iron, the smell of gastric acid, the smell of bile and rot. It was a rancid mix that twisted and danced in the air to create a symphony of disgust in Jaune's head. So, Jaune plugged his nose and soldiered on.
The two embracing lovers were Dandelion and Haley Fields. Their home was actually at the river port, which they owned. While they couldn't legally tax for anything, Dandelion probably was paid to move cargo while it seemed that Haley had a job as a repairwoman.
From the hingeless door, the tossed aside barricades, and the boarded up walls, it seemed like they realized the inevitable was coming and decided to die with each other.
Dandelion was a tall and wide woman with brown skin and long hair that seemed to be normally tied up in a bun, from how she normally looked in the photos the pair kept around in their house. On top of serving as muscle for the riverside port, she also seemed to be an avid fan of fishing. Jaune supposed it made sense, given how much time she spent at the port. She even had a top of the line fishing rod, straight from Atlas and loaded with the finest fishing hardware a portwoman's salary could reasonably afford. Given how three fishes from the river were probably enough to feed a group of two for a day or so, ignoring nutritional variety, and that it wouldn't take long to catch more than 3 fish in the river, Dandelion probably sold whatever excess fish she caught.
Even got involved in a townwide fishing contest, she won after getting a bass as large as a stool. Right next to that photo was one of several people at a table with the giant bass cooked and opened up.
Checking in the usual places, nightstands, closets, and pockets, Jaune managed to find her documentation. Dandelion was an adult, 35, born in the eastern Animan desserts. Records on her pasport placed her wandering around Mistral until she finally settled down in Reli. The old busted and ammoless shotgun in the closet suggested she was a caravaneer, traveling all across Anima with fellow wandering traders, either taking a stab at making some cash by peddling goods or simply acting as a guard for those that did. Jaune was willing to bet the latter, but the former was just as likely. A few caravan guards he had met collected small things they were willing to sell.
Keychains, knick knacks, children's toys. Darling in particular liked the latter, for holding every type of card under the sun, she never got enough of childrens' games.
"Well, kids are the best at making games high stakes, even if there are no actual consequences. Plus, these miniatures are very cool." And expensive, seriously. Jaune would've been tempted to try carving them himself with wood and Crocea Mors if it meant not bleeding Lien for one of Darling's many addictions (the others being misery, gambling, and pastry addictions).
Anyways, from some of the older scars on Dandelion's legs and arms, Jaune guessed that she might've simply gotten tired of the caravaneer trade. Maybe she survived hers getting destroyed in a Grimm attack and thought that reason enough to retire. Maybe she simply got tired. Jaune didn't know and not everyone kept journals nowadays.
Still, it seemed that she was close with her group. Twenty people on a small caravan that used a truck that pulled cargo attachments. She was one of the many guards that would gun down Grimm and bandits as they went. As for why she didn't put up a fight here, she was likely rusty from retirement and recognized that. That and while aura was very useful, Grimm were still hard to fight.
Even with aura, killing a single Grimm took a weapon, which Dandelion lacked, and immense strength. Non-hunter guards mostly used guns to avoid getting in close quarters combat with a Grimm, because people who haven't trained their auras to fight against Grimm usually had it shattered after one or two hits.
As for burial, Jaune didn't exactly know what to do with her. He sighed and decided to put it off until he properly examined Haley Fields.
She was a bit younger than Dandelion, about 30. 5 and a half feet, shoulder length light brown hair, and olive skin. While technically not as physically active as the dockwoman, Haley's hands were calloused from constant use. With a town as big as Reli, with a hundred or so people (that was considered fairly small), Jaune supposed a handywoman would get a lot of work. Especially in a frontier town, where pipes and mechanical bits were often makeshift, improvised, and made with old parts.
Jaune found her toolbox and opened it up. And there were plenty of tools. Wrenches, screwdrivers, bolt cutters, wire cutters, chisels, a dust fuser, and even a knife or two. It was all one really needed out here to repair most things. Well, those and parts to act as replacements.
There was a small magazine in the toolbox, an Atlesian one. It showed an application of hard light dust, where parts could be temporarily replaced by hard light dust before being replaced, as to not interrupt the systems. But such a product was costly, and mostly just a proof of concept as an application for hard light dust. Still, the image was circled by Haley, probably entranced by the sci-fi appeal of such an item.
Jaune chuckled as he found a jar filled with paper and coin lien with a sticky note saying 'hologram system savings'. They actually saved up quite a bit, a few hundred. Jaune supposed he'd send it with the Haley to the afterlife, maybe she'd find a use for it there.
Looking at Haley's ID card again, she was born in western Anima, a village called Shion in specific. She left for some reason and eventually made it to Reli. Jaune looked to the photos and they painted a clear picture. Haley was picked up by the caravan, the two of them traveling across Anima with their group. Eventually, the two settled down in Reli, possibly for the reasons Jaune mused on before.
When Haley wasn't working on repairs or maintenance, it looked like she played games on her computer. While CCT connection was spotty, she could still pick up games from traders that came by. She had a lot of simulator games, with her actually managing to clock in a few hundred hours in 'Fly Sim' alone. Fly Sim being a game about being a fly, not a game about being a pilot. There were a few others, farming, hunting, thieving. Her computer was old, but fairly strong. At least, what with the high numbers and fairly high-tech looking chips inside it. Ah, Jaune wasn't much of a tech guy.
Jaune sighed and looked around the portside house. It was a well made one, with a few rooms, even a garage. Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living room. Drywall, clean floors, a slanted roof, the works. For bathing, water was hauled in from the river and then heated with fire dust. For disposing of waste, septic tanks collected it, and the waste would then be sold to farmers, who'd make it into fertilizer in large quantities. While plant dust was a thousand times more effective, it was also rarer, more expensive, and a thousand percent not worth it because it was always a one time use.
Jaune remembered his semblance once more. Theoretically, he could retire and become a pretty good farmer. Heh, that was a thought.
Anyways, at the time of the Grimm attack, the two were likely caught in their homes. The living room's windows and door were smashed in. A mess was made of the place, claw marks, scratches, a table was smashed into pieces. But they likely retreated into their own room and put up barricades. A bookshelf, tables, chairs, they probably would've put their bed up if they didn't already know it was pointless.
The boarded up windows in the bedroom suggested they dreaded an attack coming. Jaune found it probable that they would try to use the bedroom as a 'bunker' of sorts. People did that sort of thing, putting up measures of defense against the Grimm, measures that would all fail.
Jaune sighed, the image of hunters slaying Grimm with ease really messed up the truth. The truth that the Grimm were terrifying.
Anyways, with the barricade faltering further and further, Jaune could see that Dandelion and Haley 'Fields knew their time was up. They'd die. And while they didn't have poison, guns, or knives to off themselves with, they at least had each other. And so, they embraced, closed their eyes, and let it happen.
And so ended the tale of Dandelion and Haley Fields.
And now it was time to give them a proper burial. Haley was from western Anima, they put their dead in graveyards. He bundled them up together, no need to seperate them now, and carried them out of their house. The blood had already dried, so the only thing to worry about was the smell. Despite that, he carried them outside and grabbed the shovel he was borrowing and began digging in their yard.
Ten minutes passed until he reached the necessary depth. Then, he placed the bodies in the hole with care. And like with so many practices, he would baptize them. When born, all were purified by the air. When they died, many were baptized with flames. Jaune found some fire dust and high proof alcohol, that was all he needed. He poured it on the grave and splashed the fire dust into the hole, lighting a blaze that would burn the two to a crisp.
"For it is in passing in which we achieve immortality." Last rites, they would never hear it, but it felt important to say it nonetheless. "Through the memories made on the long and harsh road, we sow the seeds of our eternity. Potential ended, liberated from life, by my shoulder, I set thee free, and pray for your safety on the roads ahead."
And with that said, Jaune buried the ashes and went back into the home. He'd clean it up for the pair, wiping up sawdust, cleaning up splinters, and moving furniture around. Even made a meal and set it down for the dead.
Religion was a fact of life in Remnant. Jaune didn't know whether to call himself religious or not. He believed in magic, Darling alone was testament to that. But he never really bothered to worship the gods. Why bother? They don't care, they're merely unchanging facts, certainties, if you will. But to many, religion was important. It was their promise of safety, despite the fact they lived in constant peril. Especially to those in the frontier, many prayed to their gods when the Grimm came, and that hope helped to fend them off.
And religion was a comfort to those who were left. A comfort that, even with the passing of their loved ones, that they will live on in the afterlife, awaiting them.
Some chose to sneer and look down on such things, Jaune chose to embrace such practices. After all, while they were secure in their belief and comfort that the dead would wait for them, Jaune didn't know. He really didn't. And that was terrifying.
Religion was many things, it was important, it was personal, but it was also very communal. People of the same faith often banded together when times became rough, hell, people of different faiths often put their differing ideals to help each other in times of need. Such was the case for the church.
Jaune sat in the hall of the holy house. It was destroyed, much like everything else in this forsaken town. But it retained some of its beauty, and even gained some with the odd tranquility. No matter Jaune's mood, the skies stayed blue, and it gave the entire church a relaxed air. Yes, the roof had a hole in it and the stained glass window was shattered by something. Yes, there were corpses in the corner. Three priests of different faiths, gathered here to protect the door to the basement. And yet, the door was breached, and its inhabitants slaughtered.
Jaune would know, he looked.
But there was a beauty to the building, to its corpse.
Jaune sighed, he really wasn't immune to the oddities that were the personalities of hunters.
The church was a small thing, with a main hall that could only hold a few dozen people at once. Many of the benches were scratched, torn up, and had bullet holes. A few were even cleaved in half. Many smashed up ones were near the door, the priests probably attempted to use them as barricades. Didn't do them a lot of good, but it didn't matter. The church was one for the Elysiumites. Named after their object of worship, not a deity, but a place, a concept. The concept of Elysium.
Elysium, an idea originating from Argus, or at least the region near it. Originally, in the more militant city-state that originally occupied where Argus was, was a resting place for the most loyal and brave of soldiers. A place for them to wait in reserves as their gods' armies. But, like many things, the concept would change, the perception would change. Now, Elysium was a resting place for all who died. To the Elysiumites, there was a greater being that was essentially the concept of suffering. The idea of evil. A being of pure hatred. A thing whose very purpose was to cause misery. And to a people who could barely reach adulthood without someone they knew and cared for dying, it was both a logical and an appealing concept. Meanwhile, there was no more strife in Elysium, Elysium was where its influence ended, there was only paradise, and the promise that you'd have to leave eventually.
Most took that to mean that the amount of time you lived would be your length of stay in Elysium. Some took it to mean that you would be called from Elysium to aid humanity when needed. Some took it to mean you'd eventually grow tired and leave of your own volition to enter the cycle of rebirth.
As for why there was a church dedicated to it, that was simple, to enter Elysium, one must abide by some simple tenets in life. The rules inscribed on the marble pillars. Things that probably originated from the beliefs of the militant state from whence Elysium came. The core requirements were as such: Never kill without due cause, always help someone in need, and to keep oneself clean. That last bit was a point of contention in meaning. It could mean many things to many people. But to Jaune, it simply meant to practice self-care, to not drive oneself into an early grave. But that was just his thoughts. And he wasn't even an Elysiumite. And to those who failed to keep to those tenets, hope wasn't really lost. It just meant that they would enter the machine of reincarnation once more for another shot at Elysium. And Elyisum was only a temporary reprieve anyways.
The church was there as a gathering place for those looking to enter Elysium. A place for people to talk amongst themselves, to find comfort in each others company. The priest was there to listen to the woes of their fellow people and to offer aid where they could.
As for the Grimm, to the Elysiumites, they were merely another one of the strifes created by the Great Evil. Merely another way to torment them, much like famines, floods, diseases, earthquakes, fires, and other large and terrible things.
The priestess of the house was Hestia Lymphi, who died from a lung puncture. She was a tall woman, one that towered over even Jaune at 7 feet. She had long black hair and olive skin, as well as beautiful golden eyes that remained open even now. She wore a dress, copper colored, and heavily stained with blood, and seperate sleeves covering her arms. By her side was a shattered spear, likely what was left of her resistance.
She was middle aged, perhaps 53. Her ebony hair was just beginning to grey, though with the makeup and grey hairs Jaune could see in her trash, it was a sore point for the priestess.
Jaune could find much proof of her being a beloved figure in town. From the letters of thanks she neatly kept in her nightstand drawer, to the very detailed journal of the people in town who she was planning on helping. And even daily prayers to Elysium that people be let in when their times came.
Hidden underneath the smell of rot and decay, Jaune could detect faint hints of incense. A material used in prayer in a wide array of faiths in Anima. It wasn't uncommon, Jaune supposed.
From the pictures Hestia kept, it seemed that she actually came from Argus as one of the original members of Reli. And through it all, she's been there, helping, and watching. She'd picked up a wide range of hobbies, including a trading card game that she played with the children. From how she had a book on her table labeled 'Eternal Warrior Strategies' she was really invested in beating those kids. Right next to a picture of her and her friends in the village, she had one of her excitedly pumping her fist in childlike glee as she finally won a game.
Jaune couldn't help but smile.
Right next to Hestia was the body of Amy Nozume. She was young, far shorter than Hestia and a bit shorter than Jaune. With pale skin and wild brown hair, she wore a bright pink kimono jacket over jeans, a blouse, sandals, and a necklace made of lapis. She was a Monk of the Waves. More specifically, a worshipper of Umi, the Ocean Maiden. Apparently, many years ago, a lady came from the ocean to bring unbridled bliss and merry to the town of Umi (which was named after her) that could actually drive off the Grimm.
That came in the form of alcohol. Anyways, Monks of the Wave traveled far and wide, spreading their message of having a good time. The reason? Simply because the world needed joy. And of course, when they died, they'd go to the Ocean Maiden's palace and join the party of the afterlife. It was the return to the Blissful Sea.
As for what she did in town, Amy Nozume was a masssive drunk, or at least a massive party girl. And while most members of the town didn't, Hestia did keep a journal. And right next to her praise of the townsfolk there was a seething rivalry and animosity between Amy and Hestia. Or, realistically, Amy enjoyed screwing with Hestia, who merely bit her tongue. Well, that or she reprimanded the drunk. Either way, Amy wasn't entirely a nuisance. She was just that way to Hestia, who found only too often that Amy had wandered in to turn a dinner into a comedy. To the townsfolk, Amy was a joy who livened the party no matter what.
To be a monk of the waves was a duty one would undertake, not for the sake of converting others to the faith, but to spread joy to towns much like Umi did to the places she went. But there were also specific responsibilities Amy had, things like having a ceremonial drink near a body of water every day, as well as making sure the antics she incited didn't go too far (making sure people didn't make mistakes while they were drunk).
Checking her ID, Jaune found that Amy was 29 and born in Umi, which made sense. As for how she made money, it looked like she made it by acting as the town comedian. In her wallet, she had pictures of her in a variety of bars, preforming acts with a variety of instruments or even just a mic.
Jaune would later find her house, a small thing that was in the tavern. She was renting it from the tavern owner, who took Amy's acts on stage as payment. Amy also had a petty and mischievous streak. More specifically, one targeting Hestia. Amy kept a journal of how many games she had won against Hestia. The score was 99 to 1.
And when Jaune looked further into Amy's travels (one need only look on the travel log on her scroll), he saw that she went all across Anima. She likely traveled with huntsmen and caravans, or she just trusted in the joy she radiated.
Anyways, in all of her pictures, Jaune saw that Amy had carried a small gourd by her side. One with 'With love, -Emily' carved onto it. It seemed personal, so that's why it was somewhat of a surprise to see that it was in Hestia's hands. Jaune could smell some alcohol from Hestia's long gone breath, so Jaune made a picture in his head.
Amy had come to the church, not to enjoy in any of her usual antics, but because the Grimm were attacking. She was sober and had her weapon, which Jaune found nearby her body. It was a katana, a chokuto, to be specific. Hestia and Amy guided who they could into Hestia's basement and raised their weapons, ready to protect themselves from the inevitable.
Amy noticed Hestia's nerves and offered a drink. And Hestia took this act for what it was, a simple kindness, and accepted the drink.
But there was still something missing to the puzzle, something else. And Jaune found it in the third body of the room, the one who wielded two revolvers in their hands. Revolvers whose grips and hammers were stained in their blood. They lived longer than the other two, but were caught unaware by an Ursa who smashed the window and tore their weakened aura and back apart with a single stroke. Her name was Jo (pronounced 'Yo') Ba.
And she was a Survivalist from the desserts of Eastern Anima, from the condemned lands beyond the mountains. Whatever cities and civilizations that were there were now lost, long captured by the Grimm. But to those frontier towns still suffering from attacks, only sustaining themselves by selling the dust they could find in the sands, the culture lived on. One recently born legend was that of Legends of a Duneside Messiah. Of someone wearing a wide brimmed hat, a poncho, and wielded old weapons practically creaking with age, that somehow worked regardless.
Someone who slaughtered the Grimm as they descended upon towns with but the twirling of their revolvers. It was a relatively recently born one, more of a folk belief that was added on top of a slew of other local traditions and beliefs. But it seemed like this believer had walked far. Jo Ba had dark brown skin, normal for those from the desserts, and short black hair. She wore a fraying cassock and an old poncho. To top it off, she had a cowboy hat on.
She had scars marring her body. One on her shoulder, a few on her face, and a big one on her leg. Still, it all paled in comparison to the large tear on her back that exposed her flesh.
Her guns had been fired a lot. There were shells litering the floor of the church. Shells that also appeared in a path through the town. And the picture was complete, Jo had gathered up the townsfolk and brought them to Hestia's house, where they were put. The two, later becoming three, priestesses would make a last stand to protect those they could. While Amy and Hestia would fall quickly, Jo, who had more combat experience, was able to gun down many Grimm.
But one caught her by surprise, and now here she was, lying on the floor.
Jaune still didn't know much about her. He'd later dig through her home to get to know her. This wasn't her first time in a Grimm attack, her home village in Eastern Anima had been destroyed when she was a child. In a note on her scroll detailing her last thoughts, she said she wasn't going to sit by and let it happen this time. On less grim matters, Jo actually trained many of the guards in sharpshooting and survival, as well as acting as a guard herself.
Jaune found a survival knife on her, as well as many little scars from cutting on her fingers. It seemed like she was fond of playing with her knife and often paid the price. Though, aura likely protected her from taking too much damage.
She apparently was into photography, from the photo album she kept in her drawer. It was full of shots of nature, of the river, of the town, and, of course, the people. She liked taking shots of people, just in their daily lives. Men and women enjoying drinks in the bar, kids playing games in the town square, farmers picking crops, the people in the market haggling with each other, and even an old lady who fed the birds every day.
And now that Jaune had identified and looked into all the priests, he had to bury them. Thinking back to memory, they were all to be cremated. Hestia would be simple, her body would simply be burned, so that it could go to Elysium with her. Amy's ashes would be poured into a puddle of alcohol, which would serve as a portal for her ashen body to enter the Blissful Sea, where she'd navigate towards Umi's palace. And for Jo? Her ashes would need to be spread to the winds, so that she could be called upon as a spirit to help villages in need, much like the Duneside Messiah did.
And so, he did so. After cleaning up the church, he incinerated each body individually and did with them what was required.
"For it is in passing in which we achieve immortality. Through this, we finally recieve our eternal reward for a life of service. With dreams of paradise and a life fufilled, I shatter your chains, and by my shoulder, free thee."
And then, he would have to move on to the bodies in the church basement.
There were fifteen dead in the basement. A few tried to fight the Grimm off, but it was all for naught. The baker, Jamie, died first. It was a trail of dead as he walked further in. After the men had died, the women did, and then the teens. Jaune had found every body and saw their faces. Most were terrified, but some held steadfast with looks of barely kept together defiance. Jaune commended them for keeping that look, even as they bled out. There were many, all of them had their lives, all of them had their ups and downs.
He would bury so many. He would baptize so many in flame. He would spread so many ashes that his hands were stained white.
But he would be surprised when the child he was looking at, the child he assumed dead, opened their eyes. It wasn't a sudden thing, it was a slow movement that caught Jaune off guard. The village was empty, for the most part. The child was skinny and young, barely even 10.
"W-w-w-wha? Mama?" Dried blood flaked off their brown skin as they looked around. "W-where is my mom?" The child looked to Jaune, who could only stare in surprise at the child. Jaune looked to the side and saw who was holding him. A woman, skin just like his, embracing him despite her wounds, protecting him despite the holes in her body. Jaune didn't know what to do. It was already so hard to bury the dead, but this? This was cruel.
"Your mom is-" Jaune paused, unsure of what to say. What could he say to this kid? What indeed. "-Your mom is gone."
"..." The child merely stared at him, as if unsure of what the stranger was saying. As if unaware that he was being hugged by the dead arms of his mother. Confusion turned to anger. "L-l-l-liar! Mama isn't gone, she can't be. Mama is invincible. She said I'd be safe. She said she'd wait for me. So where is she?" Last words. Jaune felt his gut churning in despair. He really had to do this, didn't he?
"What's your name?"
"... My name is Gil." Jaune nodded.
"Alright Gil. Are you hungry?" Jaune decided not to broach the topic of the dead for now. It wasn't a very good idea, in his mind.
"Ok." Gil was shy, understandable considering the circumstances.
"Alright, let's go get some food."
Gil was a good kid. After a meal, Jaune went straight into work again. His lips were loose and he told Jaune about plenty of things. Like how he really liked the candied apples that June the general store owner sold, or how Amy was going to organize a festival for the town. Gil was really excited about that one. Apparently Amy was planning on having plenty of games and foods for all the adults and kids to enjoy for a night. Anyways, after a chatty meal, Jaune went back to work. Work that Gil had to be around for.
"Why are you burying Mr. Clyme?" Gil innocently asked.
Though it was obviously not meant that way, that got Jaune thinking to why he was even bothering burying the entire town. It got him thinking to how he knew how to bury everyone.
"Well, my master said that this is what heroes do when people need to take nice long naps." Raiden had Jaune read a book on the Burial Practices of Remnant. And in the time Jaune has been on the frontier, he's made as much use of that knowledge as he has his sword.
"Really? Mr. Clyme was always really awake."
"Well, everyone takes one eventually. He won't be waking up, but it's nice to still give him a bed while he sleeps." Should he really be using euphemisms with the kid here? Would it be worse if he didn't? He had no clue what the 'right course of action' was. If he broached the subject, he'd possibly open the kid up to having a really bad emotional breakdown. If he didn't, he was just kicking the can down the road for whoever adopted him to deal with.
Fuck it, might as well smash the rock before it snowballed into something life-shattering.
"Gil, do you know what death is?"
"...Yes?"
"What is it?"
"When my goldfish goes to sleep and doesn't wake up." He seemed melancholic at the memory.
"Would you believe me if I said Mr. Clyme is dead?"
"... Yes? I guess he's dead, then." Must've not been too close to Clyme, or perhaps he didn't undestand the full weight of it.
"What about your mo-"
"Why do you keep on saying that? My mom's not dead!" Jaune was really feeling like a piece of shit. Still, he couldn't put this off.
"She is, Gil, she is."
"N-no, she isn't! She's just waiting for me somewhere. Yea!"
"Gil, she's dead."
"Oh yea, prove it!" ... Jaune didn't think he could be faced with a situation so awkward. On one hand, he had proof. On the other hand, that proof was the body of his mother. Jaune knew he had to break the news to the kid, but his goal was to save him the pain of only learning it later, not to traumatize him with a gruesome sight.
He sighed and went with another approach.
"What do you last remember, Gil?"
"Uhhh, mama said that we had to go into Hesty's basement for some reason. Then the ground shook and, she hugged me." As their speech slowed in thought, Gil was clinging to their shoulders, as if feeling the warmth. "But she said it'd be alright!" Gil's talking hastened as they looked back up. "So where's mama?"
"... She's still in the basement."
"Oh, can I see her?" And Jaune, in his cowardice, could only push off the inevitable.
"... No."
He shouldn't have said that. He really shouldn't have said that. It went about as well as one would think. After Jaune had finished up with the last few burials, he noticed that Gil was missing. Jaune eventually found him in the basement, curled up on the bloodstained floor, unresponsive. Jaune blamed himself, but really, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he needed to help Gil.
"Gil, Gil?" Jaune shook the boy a bit, earning no response. His eyes were wide, his arms and legs slack.
"No, can't be." Gil muttered under his breath, unbelieving of what he just saw.
Many tears were shed on the floor. But Jaune didn't have time to try and help Gil cope, because he heard the rattling of chains.
Shit, a Mourning Star. And it had skipped right to stage 4, the most dangerous one. Chains came out of the humanoid Grimm's tear ducts, from under the veil it wore in mourning, and leaped towards him and Gil. Jaune grabbed the kid and hopped out of the way of the offending chains. Just a touch from it could drain a lot of his aura. And he wasn't exactly looking to let Gil die.
"Can't be, she said we'd be safe." Gil was still muttering under his breath. Despite Jaune's rapid dodging and running, he couldn't help but listen to every word. The chains grazed him occasionally, but a single touch did massive damage, sapping him of a lot of his aura and energy. Lethargy started to build up as he focused on running away. He couldn't fight, not with Gil to protect. So he ran out of the basement with the kid as the Mourning Star chased him.
"Please, mama, help me." Gil curled up further as Jaune ran, holding in a scream as he felt the stinging of one of the chains wrapping around his leg. With one hand, Jaune carried Gil, and with the other, he pulled out Crocea Mors and stabbed the chain with all of his strength, shattering it.
Still, it took a lot of energy out of him, and it allowed the Mourning Star time to catch up, giving more leeway for the Grimm to use the length of its chains to attack him from multiple angles. Jaune's breathing became haggard.
"Gil, tell me about your mother." Jaune decided to try communicating one more time. For a bit, Gil was quiet, unresponsive. In that silence, Jaune had to fight against the Mourning Star. Slash, thrust, smash, bash, and dodge. He had to do all of that while holding Gil, fending off the sapping chains as he slowly lost aura anyways.
"S-s-she was good. Kind. Invincible. Her smile was like the sun." Good, Gil was talking.
"What was she like to you?" Jaune ran further, the chains were becoming overwhelming. Swinging his sword was getting exhausting. So he used the jets in his boots to help propel him away from the mourning star as its chains leaped and stabbed towards him, trying to wrap around him to sap him of his life.
And Jaune was beginning to feel the effects of its attacks.
"She always told me bedtime stories, and she kissed by owies til they felt better." Jaune had hit a corner, now he had only one hope. And that hope was to kill the source of the Mourning Star's despair.
"Would your mom want you to survive?"
"... Yes, she wanted me to be safe. She said that I'd grow up to be a big boy, a strong boy." The chains came closer and closer.
"Please, Gil, your mother would want you to be strong, even with her gone." Tears flowed out of Gil's eyes, but despite that, the chains stopped and turned white.
Through the sobs, Gil managed to say something. "Y-y-yes, mama would want that." And the chains fell flat onto the floor. The Mourning Star had reached phase 5, as did the thing it spawned from. Jaune pulled out his flare gun and shot a gravity dust flare at the eye. The projectile exploded with monumental force, tearing apart the Grimm and leaving the remains of its body to fade away into black dust.
"Gil, we can still have that festival, you know." The boy seemed so excited about that.
"We can?" Gil asked through the sobs and sniffles, as he wiped away his tears.
"Yes, we can." Jaune chuckled. "It's getting late, you know. Please, go to sleep. When you wake up, we'll celebrate."
"A-alright mister."
"Jaune, call me Jaune."
When Gil was woken up in the middle of the night, it was not to a ruined village, but to a jovial one. Strings with colorful ribbons made of paper were hung up around the main street and town square, linking from roof to roof and wall to wall. Lanterns were made and hung around the entire place, bathing Reli in an orange glow. Makeshift stalls with makeshift games and improvised prizes were set up. And Jaune had pulled out some outdoors cooking equipment and whatever ingredients he could find to create a food stall. Jovial music boomed from the speakers Jaune hauled out from one of the houses, adding a lively air to the scene he had set up. The only thing really missing was people.
But hey, Jaune and Gil were there, and that was enough for now.
While he was working, Jaune had enhanced Calm Waters with his semblance (And wow, that was a trippy experience at first. Sensory overload screwed him over for a second) to see if there were any more survivors. He did that before checking each house thoroughly himself. And, as he feared, there were none. Gil was the only thing left of Reli.
But Jaune could at least give Gil a cheerful final memory of his hometown.
"Hesty would've liked this. She loved candles and fire. She said she liked how warm they were." Gil muttered, eyes wide at how much Jaune managed to accomplish in the short few hours in which Gil was napping. Jaune sighed and wiped some sweat from his forehead. It had taken a lot of work to do this all in such a quick time. Thank god his aura reinforced his muscles and allowed him to work overdrive to create this little mini-festival.
"Hey, did Hesty like playing Eternal Warrior?" Jaune remembered Hestia having a deck for the competitve trading card game.
"Yea! She always challenged us to games. And Amy would always come by and challenge Hesty. Then Hesty would lose and get testy and Amy would brag she's the best-" A pause. "-y." And Jaune actually chuckled at that one.
"They sound really fun."
"Yep, they were." A moment of silence as they walked in the glow of lantern light. "Do you know how to play Eternal Warrior?"
"I can learn."
"Yay!" And so, Jaune did learn. He borrowed a deck from Amy and got to playing with Gil, hearing about small stories and anecdotes about the town. And Gil had many, so many. Like one time when Ai had accidentally gotten carried away and painted the entire town square. Or when Dandelion was challenged to a push-up contest by one of the kids. Or some of the stories that Jo told to kids.
"She would talk about cows and snakes and scorpions and how they came from a puddle of life!" Gil told his stories with fervor and occasional pauses to think of how he would word it.
"That sounds nice." Jaune smiled as he lost the game, a shame, it was a close match. Then, Jaune noticed a frown appearing on Gil's face. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Sorry, it's just that I think mama would've liked this." Gil was saddened at the reminder that all of his friends were missing out on the fund he was having.
"It's fine. She probably would've." Jaune sighed and smiled as he came up with an idea. Dawn was coming, after all. "Hey, Gil, do you want to send the festival to your friends?"
"Huh?"
"Yea! Let's give the town a proper burial, alright? It'd be sad if we just let it out to rot." Gil seemed to like that idea.
"Alright!" And so, after gathering some resources, Jaune and Gil would essentially lay a trail of fire dust through the entire town. There was a lot of it, considering how it was necessary for engines and ovens and stoves to work. Fuses were set and, after doubling checking everything, Jaune and Gil walked far away from the town, looking at it from a distance on the plains.
Dawn was just barely coming, so Reli was still giving off a light glow from the lanterns.
"Alright, now look at this." Jaune pulled out his flare gun and aimed with a steady hand. And with the pull of the trigger, a whistling ball of flame flew towards one of the barrels of fire dust he had procured. The flare hit and suddenly, a fire started in Reli. The fire spread quickly, house after house was engulfed in flame. Each and every house was cleaned up and now, they were being sent to their inhabitants in the afterlife. The entire town was. Gil's eyes were wide as he watched the bright light. The sun was rising, but there already was another great big ball of fire on the horizon.
"Woahhh."
"Woah indeed, Gil, woah indeed."
There was one final part to the burial. Jaune and Gil had safely arrived in another town, a safer town. High walls, manned with guards. Jaune felt comfortable dropping Gil off here. He wasn't safe with Jaune, no matter how much Gil tried saying otherwise. As Gil was eating some french toast, Jaune did the final step necessary.
For each and every dead of Reli, Jaune had collected their scrolls and searched for contacts.
He searched for their relatives, their family.
And with his own scroll, he would begun composing messages.
'Dear Yue Mu, and I am deeply sorry to inform you that your son and daughter in law have perished, he was in the town of Reli when it succumbed to a Grimm attack-'
'Dear Shi Liu, and I am deeply sorry to inform you that your daughter and son in law have perished-"
'Dear Mr. Fields-'
'Dear Ms. Huea-'
'Dear-'
Hundreds of messages were sent. Jaune included all the details, where, how, and approximately when. He included how they were buried, he asked for forgiveness in case they wanted a funeral with the body, and he expressed his deepest condolences. This wasn't the first batch of messages, nor would it be the last. Jaune found that being a hero didn't mean fighting all the time, nor did it mean glamorous work. Sometimes, it meant learning about the dead, and grieving them. Sometimes, it meant burying them. Sometimes, it meant telling their loved ones of their fate.
But through all that grief, Jaune found a reason to keep on doing what he did. Because for every other body he buried, there was someone like Gil, who he had helped, even if just a little bit.
"Hey, Gil?"
"Yes, mister?"
"Thank you."
"Hmmm? Sure!"
Yea, this chapter is a huge downer. But, I would've written it eventually. This is just the fate of many in the frontier.
So, for religion, I just decided to say 'fuck it' might as well have fun with it. What did you think? And yes, I did make a cowboy priest
Also, a question for the next one: I have four prompts, but I don't know which one to go with first.
Here's your options:
1: Magic, where I actually bother to flesh out a magic system and they do some experimentation with it on top of temple diving. That's really all there is to it.
2: Maria, basically, a chapter focused on Maria and Jaune interacting. This chapter, on top of fleshing out Maria, will also have some worldbuilding on the River System of Mistral.
3: May, the same thing but instead with May in Vacuo instead of Maria in Mistral. Except here, it's Jaune and May trekking through the Vacuan dessert.
4: Backstory. Basically, a flashback to when Jaune was just beginning. One moment in particular. That moment being when Jaune has to face his first Grimm. And I want this to essentially be an example of how Jaune's 'improvise and bullshit until you live' quote en quote fighting style came to be
Pick ya poison in the reviews.
