Forgotten Remnants

2

A large, powerful raven flew over the burning skeleton of a town, looking down at the grimm running rampant through it with distaste and no little anger.
Raven Branwen cawed in disgust. Today was just not her day.
To start things off, the camp's supply situation had gone from 'low' to 'critical.'
Not the best start to the day.
After that, the men and women of the camp had been decidedly unruly. She had been forced to make an example of a few to remind them who was in charge, which had caused enough negative emotion to call down a horde of grimm, causing several of their warriors to become wounded fighting them off.
Add to that their critically low supplies, and she saw herself forced to make an early assault on the town they had been planning to attack for the last two weeks…missing a third of the force she had planned to use.
To top things off, two groups of Huntsmen had been staying in the town, and her scouts had utterly failed to realize this fact. Leading to the town holding out long enough for a grimm horde to descend, trapping Raven's force between a rock and a hard place.
She'd barely managed to fight her way out of that encirclement. Now she was trying to evacuate stragglers. She couldn't exactly afford to just leave them behind; she would run critically low on manpower.
As she flew over the town, past all the men and women running from the grimm, and the remaining Huntsmen fighting that horde, her eye was drawn to an anomaly.
A little red blur zipping around a mound of corpses, killing grimm. Wherever the blur zipped, grimm fell dead; decapitated, stabbed through the head, stabbed through the heart. Never did it take more than an instant.
The raven fluttered down for a closer look. At the center of a plaza was a small mound of corpses. The remains of a few families that had failed to keep away from the grimm.
The grimm, mindless as usual, kept pouring into the plaza. Rushing to the spot where the greatest number of them died in the hopes of taking down a champion.
The raven tilted its head as the little blur stopped moving long enough to get a good look at it.
The blur was a boy. Raven wasn't exactly the best with children but he couldn't be a day over nine. He was wearing an armored shirt and pants, and a red half-cape with a hood. His hair was a vibrant red, but it was his eyes that caught her attention.
They were apathetic, empty, hurt. He'd run around killing grimm, with as much excitement as one put to watching grass grow. He was wielding a large red spear, a pretty fancy one if her eye for weapons was any good. It didn't have a multi-form, but the weapon seemed to have been carved from some red stone rather than forged. Veins seemed to pulsate through its shaft, its point gleaming dangerously. The weapon was almost three times as long as the child that held it, but he wielded it as if it were a part of him.
Raven knew trouble when she saw it. The sensible thing to do was to turn around and leave but…She had seen eyes like those once before, staring out of the mirror at her the day she abandoned her daughter. She couldn't help but wonder…What could have made a boy that young have eyes like that?
Could that be his family in the mound?
He made his way to the corpses, ignoring the dissipating grimm at his feet. He knelt next to the corpse of a woman, and peered into her eyes.
Wherever it was that he was looking for, he didn't seem to find it, as he moved on to the next corpse. He checked the eyes of every female corpse in the mound, before giving an annoyed sounding huff, and plopping himself down next to a puddle of blood, seemingly as content to stay there as he was to kill grimm.
Raven fluttered around the plaza for a few minutes. Trying to force herself to leave. But every time she did, more grimm would come, and she would be enraptured by the way the kid killed them. And not just Beowulves, but alphas. Ursae both regular and major. Two Beringels. Even a young Deathstalker.
The kid killed them all, with a single strike from that dreadful spear.
Raven couldn't help but think she could use that strength. It certainly wouldn't be safe to approach, but nothing ventured…
She fluttered down from the roof she'd been observing from, and transformed. In the blink of an eye, the bird was gone, replaced by a tall woman.
She wore a shallow cut black and red dress, and a pair of shorts underneath. A long scabbard was belted to her waist. Armored gauntlets and solid black gloves encased her arms. Black thigh-high stockings made a strong contrast with her fair skin. A number of beaded necklaces clinked quietly as she landed. She shook her head as she stood straight, her long raven locks fluttering in a wild mane.
Her black high heels clicked against the ground as she walked towards the kid as he finished dispatching a Beringel before turning back to the mound of corpses.
She jumped over the fallen ape. The kid stopped to look up at her, his expression unchanged.
She put a fist on her cocked hip and said, "Hey kid."
She immediately kicked herself for the uninspired greeting. Then again, she was a bandit, not a linguist.
What made it worse was that the kid didn't say anything. He just stood there, looking up at her. His body in a stance that looked relaxed, but she could see it would allow him to spring into action at a moment's notice.
"So, you from around here?" she asked lamely, realizing that she had no idea how to talk to kids. The image of her little spitfire came to mind, playing with Summer's kid behind Tai's house.
She ruthlessly crushed the thought; she couldn't afford to weep in front of the kid if she was going to establish who was boss.
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "Look kid, this conversation would go faster if you responded."
He vanished.
Bloodlust so thick she could taste it emanated from beneath her. She looked down, and saw the kid crouched in a predatory stance. She had only ever met one person who could close that distance that quickly.
She wanted to dodge, to throw herself to the side, to evade the attack that she knew must follow. But some instinct screamed at her that to move would only invite death.
"Gáe," he said shifting his feet, pivoting his weight forward. Raven cursed and began to throw herself back. "Bolg!"
The spear moved forward with binding speed, the point of the spear getting ever larger as it flew toward her face, somehow, she did not think, she knew her Aura would not stop this. She wouldn't make it. She'd been such an idiot, dropping her guard merely because he was a kid, a kid with eyes like…
Before her very eyes, the spear bent, it made a 90 degree turn before bending again to go around her head, she heard it strike home behind her. Then the spear straightened, slamming into her temple hard enough to fling her to the floor, then there was a sickening crunch and a veritable explosion of grimm guts that covered her from head to foot.
The good thing about grimm blood, is that it leaves as much evidence as the rest of the grimm. Meaning her outfit would be ruined only for a short while as the grimm dissipated.
She opened her eyes, and saw the Beringel she had thought dead, speared through the chest, with a veritable forest of blood-red thorns pushing out of its skin. Why hadn't that happened before? Was that his Semblance? The thorns didn't look like manipulated dust.
But no, the spear bending must be his Semblance since it didn't have any moving parts.
She thought back to the attack, envisioning the way the kid had swung the spear in an arc that slammed her head out of the way. And blinked in confusion.
Raven knew that he had thrust it straight at her head, she knew the spear had bent at least twice to go around her head. But when she recalled the attack…
She felt him take her chin into his small hands, turning her head with surprising strength. He gently wiped the grimm blood off her face with a cloth, the act surprised her so much that she allowed it.
He peeled back the eyelids on her eyes, peering into them with surprising intensity.
"Not her," he mumbled, he then released her and walked his way to the mound of corpses. Leaving the spear in the Beringel.
Raven watched him make his way to the same puddle of blood, and plop himself down next to it.
She stood up, readjusted the sheath at her hip and rotated the revolver to lighting dust, just in case. Then, emboldened by the fact that he left the spear behind, made her way to him.
"Hey kid," she said, and waited for his emotionless eyes to turn to her. "What's your name?"
=][=
He blinked, shifting uncertainty. What was his name? He knew he had one, but it wasn't important. The important thing was-
There was a stuttering in his head.
"Sally forth, my little Exemplar."
No…that wasn't it, was it? Or…was that his name? It sounded important, could his name actually be important? Well, that purple mister had called him Exemplar so…that was probably it.
He opened his mouth to tell her his name.
His head filled with static.
"Shirou…I love you."
He blinked. How could he have forgotten? He was looking for her…for her, who was she? He tried to bring her to mind, but…he could remember her eyes, like two beautiful emeralds. And her voice, caring, strong yet fragile.
Why was he looking for her?
"Shirou…I love you."
Her voice made his chest tight, a feeling both exultant and nostalgic. Could that be it? She loved him, and he…cared for her? Is that why he was looking for her?
What had she called him?
"Shirou?" he asked slowly, tasting the word…it felt right. Like stretching a limb that had fallen asleep. There but not there, something that would become more familiar the more it's used.
The woman looked at him, her bright red eyes calculating. "Well Shirou, got a last name?"
Did he? He racked his brain for it, what about the purple mister? The one that fixed him? Maybe he was being polite and referring to him by his last name?
"Exemplar?" he asked slowly but…"No…that doesn't sound right."
The woman stared at him with a raised eyebrow.
"I don't know," he said. "I think I have one…but I don't know what it is."
"I see," she looked at the corpses. He looked too, trying to figure out what she saw in them. Maybe she was looking for someone too? "That your family there?"
That was a new idea, was the girl he was looking for family? He thought so, but also that she was something more than that.
"No," he said after a time. "I don't think so."
"So why did you look at my eyes earlier? Also, how did you do that trick with the spear?" she asked after an awkward silence.
"I'm looking for someone," he said. "A girl…her eyes are green, I'll know her when I see her. And I didn't do a trick with the spear, the spear did the trick, I just helped."
"Right," she said, then looked around. "So you got a family around here or something?"
He blinked, did he have a family? It didn't feel like it, it felt like he had something…different. The girl? Or the purple mister?
"No, I think…I think I'm an orphan?" he asked.
"Huh," she said. "An orphan you say."
"Yes," he said with a nod.
They fell to another awkward silence.
"Wanna come with me to my camp?" she asked slowly.
He considered, did he? It was probably as good as if not better than staying here.
And maybe he could—
Static stuttered in his brain, this time accompanied by pain.
Going with her sounded like a great idea, maybe he could find other things to—
His vision blacked out for an instant then came back.
Maybe he could find her in the camp?
"Sure."