Extreme artistic license taken with geography, here. I just took the first name starting with 'B' that came to mind, and went with it. Also this is short and sparse, so hopefully the dialogue makes up for the pacing.
Some days' walk from Bratislava, people had been disappearing at random for at least a century.
No one paid it much mind, and the disappearances had been spread around, so it had taken a while for it to get on the finders' radar. After all, the sons and daughter of the countryside all griped and swore that they'd find their way to Vienna some day. Even if they left what little they had behind, it was easy to assume they'd stolen away for a fresh start. Only when a finder, on his way to the Ukrainian Carpathians, disappeared did the Order pay attention. All finders were required to check in at least once a week with the Order; the more frequently, the better. Extensions were only granted in more remote stretches of Lapland, or in any active war zones.
The finder called Henrik had been off the grid for a month, when a team was sent to check for him. After that, it had taken them a while to get the location of the Innocence. There were no akuma at the source, and no historical records to point to its location.
Some days' walk from Bratislava, the bell of an abandoned abbey still rang, too quietly for anyone nearby to hear, but loud enough to sound through the building, vibrating through the mouldering stone. Block by block, it crumbled, built with too much wood in the skeleton, used as a fortress and burnt down by rival factions too many times.
It wasn't even a proper abbey, but an old dark-age edifice that once held an order of monks, long before. Half-castle, half-church, its black outline bit a chunk out of the customarily grey skies, rising above the teeth of the spruces.
It was not a friendly place.
The finder from the team who had entered beneath the gothic arches of the doorway had thought that, and had been right.
Approximately ten minutes later, he had turned to hear the bell tolling two o' clock in the afternoon.
Approximately ten seconds later, he was dead, the victim of a tragic accident involving an ill-supported stone in the arches overhead.
Two days later, his three companions met similar, yet individually unique fates. One had her head crushed in. One felt his shattered ribs digging into his lungs in the moments before he died. The third went more slowly; unable to withstand the pain of two broken legs, and unable to call for help, he used his emergency kit. It included a needle, thread, some painkillers, a flint and tinder, some gauze, and, most importantly, a razor and whetstone.
By the time the abbey was determined to be the source of the Innocence, the dull towns, with their dull grey skies and their rain, had claimed more finders in an investigation than were lost in most missions.
And so, in a stroke of military genius which, at face value, paralleled Napoleon's invasion of Russia, a pair of fourteen-year-olds were sent out to deal with the problem.
This decision was not nearly so stupid as it seemed. These two children had survived far more than most of the adults in their place, and were far more expendable than the adults whose experience rivalled theirs.
...
It was raining. Again.
The road was basically one big, rutted stream of mud. Even beneath the trees the water poured in rivulets, off the needles of the spruces. It soaked in through every stitch of fabric, no matter how waterproof, and dripped down into your boots. The best you could say about it was that it cleaned the old dirt out, and replaced it with new, more interesting mud.
After this mission, even Daisya might be tired of it. It had rained every damn day since they'd set out over a week ago. It wasn't even the sheer amount of rain that bothered him — it was the wet clothes that weren't dry even after a night in front of the fire, and that started to smell mouldy after a few days rolled up.
And, in addition to clothes that became plain old unpleasant after being wet for a few days, there was Kanda, who became plain old unpleasant after being wet for a few minutes. Daisya would have sworn he was part cat or something, with the way he grumbled.
"It's about five more miles to the village, right?" Daisya asked, glancing up at the sky. He could still see a faint glimmer of sunlight through the iron grey, but looked down when some of the water splashed into his eyes.
"Kanda?"
The reply he heard was just a couple of snapped off words.
"Shut. Up."
Kanda stalked along beside him, giving the impression of a twig about to snap. Both of them were soaking wet, but Kanda was taking it worse. Actually, he hadn't told Daisya to shut up much since that thing with the river bed some months after they'd met, so for him to be this angry was an event to be remembered.
Where were we? Oh, yeah. The sky. They'd run into the weather that had been on the horizon that morning, but the trees made it difficult to gauge how far away that was. Daisya had estimated six miles based on the time they'd travelled. The point where it start to hurt, but not too much.
Speaking of which, he'd discovered an ability to guess distances pretty well a few months back. He'd had it before, but he hadn't really thought about it until he was running hell-for-leather away from a bunch of akuma and ran into an illusion that Isaac had forgotten to undo. He'd had to be really, really sure of exactly how far away the river was.
Isaac was a bit absentminded. Just a few weeks ago he'd forgotten what happened when you got grazed by a bullet and forgot to slice off that bit of skin.
Poor Isaac. All that was left was his Innocence.
Now only Jeanne, Kiki, and Idris were left of the kids from three years ago.
Daisya had been off with Marie at the time, but Helle had kicked the bucket when a mission got caught up with a Noah. A couple of grown-ups had gone to the same fate. When they'd found them, they were all humming the same tune.
None of them survived long after.
There'd been another new kid that came in six months ago, but he'd disappeared pretty soon after that. Lenalee said he was a bit insane, so they were keeping him in the hospital until he accepted his Innocence.
He remembered that Lenalee had rejected her Innocence as well.
She was probably just trying to forget. They were like brother and sister, but Daisya knew more than anyone that it didn't mean they shared secrets. It just meant that the secrets didn't matter. You screwed up? Doesn't matter. You ate the leftover cake specifically labeled "do not touch"? You're dead to me.
Hard to imagine that he'd ever start to miss his siblings. The yearly trips back home cure it pretty quick, though. Last time his brothers hadn't spoken to each other the whole time. Some argument over a girl. No, Lenalee was better than a sibling. Daisya wouldn't press her to find out.
Still, it would be nice to—
His train of thought was derailed by a slipping noise, and the sound of a boot landing heavily in mud.
"I hate fucking branches."
The muffled swearing came from beside him, as Kanda found he was standing on a mud-covered branch instead, not actual mud. Daisya had made the mistake a few hours ago, as the splash of dark grey-brown up his side attested. Daisya couldn't resist a dig as revenge for Kanda's earlier grin.
"Don't like it, don't fuck 'em."
After a tense moment or two, Kanda regained his footing, and shot a customary glare at Daisya.
"I hate you."
Daisya clapped his hands together dramatically, and grinned.
"Hey, nice! You actually got it this time."
Kanda made a face, but quickly looked upwards, to the sky above the forest. Something might have caught his eye. Nah. He was probably just trying to hide his embarrassment, the sucker.
"Shut up," Kanda said quietly, as if reading his mind. Impressive.
The trees around them were almost impossibly tall and dark, but hunched over. They looked like they were scared of something. Maybe the rain, but it was already here.
Daisya quickly took stock of the surroundings. Mud, spruce, fir, some oak, greys skies, not much wind, noise of rainfall and not much else. Kanda, he could feel, but there wasn't the sneaking eyes-on-back-of-head sensation he'd learned to look for. There shouldn't be any akuma this far away. Noah rarely bothered to come out for most occasions, though there had been a few more sightings than average in the past ten years. Besides, they weren't worth worrying about — if you met them, you were dead. If you didn't, you stood a chance. No use trying to fight them.
Oh, well, it was always a good time to have another go at Kanda
Who was oddly relaxed. No frown, no bristling anger, no nothing. Very exciting, Daisya was sure. Kanda always relaxed when he didn't know what else to feel. Right now, he just glanced casually around the trees, instead of skewering Daisya with a glare.
Whatever he'd seen, it was nothing major. Daisya fell back into position about a foot behind Kanda.
"So Kanda," he started, "You didn't tell me you were telepa–"
He didn't finish the sentence. A lighting-fast movement had knocked the air out of him.
More precisely, Daisya's feet had slid out beneath him as Kanda knocked him sideways and covered his mouth. The rain stopped pattering on his hood as he was pushed, then pulled in one smooth movement off the road, beneath the thick cover of the trees.
"Ow!" he whined, "What the–"
"I said be quiet," Kanda hissed, grabbing his shoulders and driving him further back, away from the road.
A fraction of a second later, some amount told Daisya he'd been knocked backwards into a tree trunk. These spruces were pretty tough on the skin, even with the painkillers and fifteen thousand damn layers of regulation disguise on top of regulation uniform.
"What's going on?" he asked softly, flicking his eyes up. He could see the road over Kanda's shoulder, but nothing seemed to be there.
Kanda's eyes slid sideways, then back to Daisya. He hadn't taken his hands away. It must have been serious.
"I thought I saw an akuma," Kanda muttered, "If you see it, pretend we're arguing travellers, or something. I don't think it saw us."
Daisya whistled softly.
"Damn. Aren't we still a few miles out?"
"Yeah, but the akuma seem to like the villages around it better. Probably the Innocence is protecting itself."
The rain kept coming down under the trees, pouring off the needles and blocking the sounds of their hushed conversation. This place was pretty gloomy. Except at night. At night it was just creepy.
"Got it. We should probably fetch it pretty soon, before old man Marie starts worrying."
"Yeah, it's been pretty slow. No thanks to you."
Daisya grinned.
"Slow and steady wins the race."
"No, it doesn't."
It might have been just Daisya's imagination, but a shadow seemed to fall over the road. The light was too dim to tell. Whatever, it was, akuma attack would be pretty in this weather. Slipping would not be fun.
He pressed his shoulder blades against the tree bark, using the pressure to detach the bell from his hood.
"I think I saw it," he whispered, flicking his eyes to the right as an illustration for Kanda.
He felt Kanda's fingers tense, and their grip loosed in anticipation of his movement.
Quietly, he let the Charity Bell drop into his hand. The faint ringing noise was almost covered up by the rain.
There — something was moving overhead.
He broke loose from Kanda's hold, and gave himself a running start.
They had to get this one before it started shooting at them, and warned the others. Kanda was too short-range for that.
So Daisya had to do it. Using a verbal trigger would be stupid, 'cause there were probably more around, but he'd have to work around the weaker attack.
Well, he thought, mid-leap, maybe he could afford a murmur. Just not a yell.
"Charity Bell, activate."
He kicked the Innocence while still in midair to avoid slipping and skewing the course, and watched it blaze up into the sky. Come on, come on…
There was the deep, rich sound of a church bell, and a couple of shreds drifted caught on branches high above. When Bell soared back, he caught it on his foot.
"Hey, Kanda," he said quietly, "D'you think it's still safe to use the road? This guy might have had buddies."
Kanda, with the stealth of a cat, had appeared beside him. He moved fast.
"We're still in disguise, and there aren't any Noah involved, so it's better if we go on the road. We'll look suspicious if we walk in the trees."
"Roger that."
As if nothing had happened, the two sodden figures kept on their path.
I remember, we once went on a short hike. A few hours, mostly flat. It started raining about half an hour in. The weather wasn't the most fun, but the sensation of being in the lichen-draped spruce forest, under a heavy sky with no one else around was something to experience. That was after I wrote most of this, but I just have a thing for forests and rain.