Remnant.
Atlas, Mistral, Vacuo and Vale. Those are thr names of the four kingdoms that stood as survivors, rather than victors from the ashes of the war. It had been the most destructive period of the world, even though not it's first. The Kingdom of mantle had been swallowed whole in the chaos of this conflict, broken and scorched. A land of ash beneath the snow, that soon would come under the jurisdiction of Atlas. But these weren't the only nations that had ever formed on Remnant. Many had seen the light of day, only to perish and fall apart. Ground to rubble by the indiscriminate teeth of time. Surely, these late kingdoms had one or the other heroic story to tell. An inspiring legend or a dreadful tale, whispered at the fireplace, but one place shadowed all others in regard of it's history and it's downfall. One place was the home to stories so sinister and horrendous, that they had been lost to time, as people deemed them too harsh to keep being told. An island state to the north, just large enough to contain itself, with cities build in and around themselves and a fortress up in the snowcapped mountains, so massive, it threatened to dwarf most of these cities. It had been bustling with life once, with culture and power. Mighty huntsmen and huntresses as well as the most capable of scholars were said to have hailed from this strange kingdom, before it had been lost, long before the others had risen to even a semblance of their present power.
Now the cities stood in ruins. Fires had ravaged them hundreds of years ago. The cathedrals, some of the few buildings strong enough to have withstood the flames, as well as the test of time. The fortress in the mountains still stood tall, but the winds and the snow chipped away at it's walls. An enemy that no one could combat. No one lived in this kingdom and those who cared to delve into it's history, found strange records which told of how humanity had vanished from this place, even before the last being had died of some circumstance. The recounts were entirely cryptic like that, but they all told of a tragedy that had befallen the kingdom.
Now the streets and courtyards were empty, safe for the skeletons that were scattered and suggested an end of violent struggle. The windows were shattered, the doors blown from it's hinges and every explorer from the new world, who was brave enough to venture there, soon left with a cold sweat and a haunting feeling, just outside of their comprehension. Some anthropologists or curious soul had looked into the traces of this once prosperous and powerful state. They all found that the trail ended with a human. A single man. One who was depicted in texts and crude drawings. He, who stood tall in the night of the kingdom's end.
The headmaster of Beacon academy sat at his desk with a cup of coffee and scrolled through a compilation of photographs, translated texts and drawn renditions. It was one of his past times, to enrich himself with knowledge of all kinds, if the administration of his school left him any free time. Such a rare occasion was now and the man had chosen a new topic to broaden his wisdom with. One of the greater mysteries of Remnant, right after 'were do the Grimm come from?' and 'how does the headmaster keep his coffee hot at all times?'.
What happened to the kingdom of Yharnam?
/
To whom it may concern,
i write these lines in possession of my remaining faculties, but dread to admit that they aren't the same as they used to be. I have come to realise the tragic circumstances that my state of mind is not entirely too different from those who have crossed my path during my stay in this twisted land. To a degree I'm afraid, that I cannot even fully disclose my own history, much less my person from before I have arrived here. Yet I feel lucky to be certain that my thoughts seemed coherent for most of my time here, lest I might haven't made to see it to it's end. My fears to be suffering from some kind of dementia have still not been subdued and I still might succumb to the wretched illness that befell everything else here, but until now I have persevered.
I fret I can't tell more of my own state and origin and a retell of Yharnam's youngest history might take more than just a humble letter of my part. Also I am certain that others than me, preferably in their right state of mind, will be better suited for such a venture, though I am concerned that not everything that has transpired here, is suited for publication lest one risks to repeat the mistakes of the past. As my certainty is steadfast that one day some might stumble upon the remains of this kingdom by chance, I find it the preferable option to inform, at least partial of the existence of dangers that lie in delving into things better left alone. As implicated in itself, I will not disclose on any of these facilities in detail or in any further matter, but be warned. The kingdom didn't burn itself to the ground, nor lie the remains of beasts within on coincidence. And while the older districts of Yharnam have been incinerated before my arrival, any flame after that has been inflicted by the torch in my hand.
Dear reader and I pray you see reason in my argument. Refrain from pursuing behind the borders of this isle, you shall only find demise and bring it onto others. I am weakened now. My last encounter with the powers behind all this has left me changed and even now, after I have allowed myself a considerable amount of time, just writing this letter is putting a severe strain on my nervous and bodily capacities. However, as much as I hope my warnings go noticed and respected, I shall issue my advice here, at the end.
Fear the old blood.
/
The letter was dated almost three hundred years in the past and plausibility analysis seemed to strengthen this claim. Ozpin finished reading the document and put down the scroll. As headmaster to one of the most prestigious academies in the world of Remnant, he had access to resources and faculties that allowed him to study materials normally held under tight restriction and as one familiar with certain... supernatural phenomena, he was a man to be trusted to handle such information with care. Yharnam was an anomaly in Remnant's history that only he and a handful of other had any semblance of confirmed knowledge of. To the vast majority of the population, the City of Pyres was nothing more than a dark tale, used to scare children into bed and behaviour.
It was no coincidence however that he, now of all times showed increased interest in the matter. Strange dreams had haunted his night's sleep in the last few weeks. Dreams of open waters that stretched unfathomable distances in all directions, strange noises that assaulted his senses and most frighteningly, the feeling that wherever he went in those dreams, he was being followed by something. The feeling was off putting and incomprehensible for him, but he remembered having felt that way already. Some long time ago, maybe in another life. Maybe when he and a few of his friends at the time had decided to venture past the barren shores of Yharnam.
/
Cinder fall liked to think of herself as a dangerous woman. All of her achievements and abilities suggested such. Without a doubt, she was cunning, strong and confident. Her will was what drove her, her will was what had brought her here.
Behind her, her two companions, Emerald and Mercury were bickering again. They always did that and normally it didn't bother Cinder, as it broke up the tedium of their work and allowed a bit of a lighthearted atmosphere to spread while they were out, doing what was needed to achieve her goal. But today, here, it got on her nerves.
"Be quiet!" She commanded and, even though accompanied with a queer look from both, the two fell silent, and into step behind her.
Their way had been long and even though less arduous than expected, all three were beginning to feel increasingly tired. Camping out in the open took it's toll over time, even though the Grimm attacks they had expected were almost nonexistent. A straggling specimen here and there and even then, these few were often malnourished , wounded and weak. Someone or something was keeping the black tide from taking a foothold in these lands and Cinder feared she knew what it was.
Ozpin, the headmaster of the irritating little school in Vale, was said to be one of the most powerful men on Remnant as a whole, but everyone who had a fable for history and mysticism knew that under the surface of the oceans, deep in the earth and out in the cosmos, much older, much more powerful things could lie in wait, or slumber in peaceful ignorance. One of those things seemed to hide in these lands, away from humanities scrutinising gaze, from faunuskind's curious glances and out of reach of the Black Queen. Away from everything and everyone.
Their path had led them out of the rocky planes in the south of Mistral and back into the forests of conifers that rimmed it's shores. The silence that reigned in these parts was eerie, unnerving. It was an unnatural calm that seemed to choke the life out of anything that dared to make a thought. Animals were rare to come across but when they were, were weirdly curious and fearless. Even closing in on the small group to be petted or fed little portions of their rations. Then again, on occasions, they had stumbled into rather unnerving sceneries, such as a graveyard with headstones as tall as ten meters and as thick as two. Or a large clearing that was entirely filled with ashes and what appeared to be two large, hexagonal obelisks that jutted out of rhe ground to even greater hights than the headstones. All of them appeared to be made out of a partially translucent, smooth stone, almost like marble, but impossibly black in colour. Where tge light was unable to shine through them, it just seemed to be swallowed without a reflection that such a perfect surface would have needed to provide would one follow common logic. The obelisks had been barren, safe for a deep ridge that ran along each of their six sides and from the bottom to the top, but the headstones, Cinder remembered, were covered in a variety of sharp and angular hieroglyphs that she couldn't remember of ever having seen before. But somehow they seemed... wrong, appalling.
The peculiar mixture of peace and a foreboding feeling of immediate danger was confusing for the mind. Only having been through their fair share of bloodshed kept them from losing their calm during their descent into the woods.
The small expedition came upon a track, trampled through the underbrush. They had been in the forest for almost three days now, cutting through the unmapped wilderness with their weapons. They had been guarded of course. No one really knew what lurked in these remote areas, so the possibility of stumbling upon a giant Deathstalker or a sizeable pack of Beowulfs was definitely real. Now, with the narrow trail they had found in the middle of nowhere, their spirits lifted, expressing itself mostly through Emerald and Mercury picking up their conversations again. Not Cinder though. Her gut told her that they weren't out of the woods yet, figuratively as well as literally.
The sound of crashing waves reached her ears, indicating that Mistrals shores were nearby. Fitting, she thought, that her destination was near to the depths of Remnant's oceans. Open waters were a bulwark, guarding sleep, as she had read. All this infernal literature that she had devoured, just to get a vague idea of what she was looking for. Well, what her superiors were looking for. And now the phrases and sentences kept popping up. History books, marine records, confidential eye witness reports and interviews with patients of insane asylums all over Remnant. Had she been a lesser woman, she would have dismissed all those as myths and ramblings of the insane, but with what she knew, for certain, she was able to connect the dots. Find the similarities and use them to further her agenda.
The path widened and the noise of the ocean grew louder. Left and right from the track, white flowers bloomed, even though the season should have prevented tthem from doing so. A slight smell lingered in the air. It was sweet and subtle, but it was present everywhere, even seemed to stick to their clothes in an instant.
"Weapons away. But keep them loaded." Cinder commanded as the path curved sharply to the right. She threw a scrutinising look back at her two companions and saw Emerald holstering her weapons. Mercury only shrugged, and smiled. It was alright. Wouldn't be practical to have him take off his lower legs anyway. Putting on a face of satisfaction, Cinder turned back towards the path and steeled herself for what was to come.
/
"Maria, my dear, come inside please." The voice was deep amd raspy, but soft when it spoke to the young woman tending to the Lumen Flowers in front of the small house. She perked up, her platinum hair swaying lightly in the slight breeze that made her pull her coat closer to her body. She stepped through the door and hung it to the hook nest to tye entrance.
"What is it?" She asked, looking up to the tall man who waited for her in the short hallway. Standing together, they looked like polar opposites from each other. Where her hair was light and hung down her back to her hips, his was dark, kept short and hidden beneath his hat. While she wore a white dress with a subtle floral design embroidered, he was garbed in a heavy, dark coat. The collar turned up and from a leather strap across his chest, hung a military shotgun.
Her lively green eyes met his icy blues. "It's probably nothing, but you know how I like to be sure."
"Yes, I know." She smiled up at him. He seemed to be no older than thirty, but his eyes conferred an incomprehensible age. She knew that he had seen much, but every time she asked, he avoided the question and steered their conversation towards other matters.
He stepped past her and sent her a smile that she couldn't help but feel was a weary one, before he pulled the gun behind his back and closed the door.
/
Cinder looked around. The small garden before the house seemed much too peaceful for the feeling she had in her stomach. Letting her eyes dart all over tge space in front of her, she noticed a watering pot standing not far from the main door. A pair of headstones stood, offset to the left, behind the house. The whole place was well kept. Just a few needles from the trees lay on the cobblestone pathways to the door and behind the building. A small pile of chopped wood was piled up next to the emtrance and an axe leaned on the wall, the blade wrapped in cloth, probably to protect it from deterioration.
"Should we take a look around?" Mercury asked from behind her. From the way he spoke, she could hear that his nerves were again as strained as hers. The feeling of wrongness had multiplied since they had laid eyes on the small home.
"No. We will wait here. Someone will show up." Or something. Even though she was wondering by now if this was even the right place. Maybe whatever she was sent to look for was beneath them. Beneath the house, in a cave or something.
She was awoken from her contemplation when she heard the door creak and her eyes shot upward at the door. She could catch a small glimpse inside and thought to have seen the shine of blonde hair disappearing just around the corner. What captured her full attention now however, was the man who had stepped out.
His dark coat swayed behind him in the wind and the lower half of his face was hidden by a scarf, a mask, or a facewrap of some sort. On his head sat a ancient looking tricorn hat, from which a portion seemed to have been ripped out from the back, giving the man an overall predatory appearance, like a wolf or a dog. Light blue eyes pierced at them from beneath the hat as she felt him evaluating all three of them. She had to admit, the intensity of his presence, rivaled that of the Black Queen. She glanced at the others. They too stood still like statues, waiting for anyone to make the first move. Then he spoke.
"Greetings. I am Johannes. Who might you be?"
The voice was soft, yet somehow it reverberated in Cinder's body. It seemed as if it didn't come from the man as much as it came from within her.
"I am Cinder Fall and these-" She gestured at the other two. "- are my two companions Mercury and Emerald. We have come a long way to see you."
"To see me? Not many people come here these days, except for the mailman. What do you need?"
Now was the time. This was the moment. The Black Queen, Salem had sent her here, but could she take the chances? Who would protect her if she did? He? Who would he have to be to stop her?
She noticed that she had begun sweating. Her nerves threatened to give up on her. Could she do it?
"Salem sent us. To lead you into a trap." She finally said and visibly recoiled as Johannes' eyes snapped at her, boring into her skull.
"Cinder..." Emerald almost whimpered behind her. The airpressure of their surrounding seemed to bear down heavy on them.
"She aims to awaken something... something not from this world. Please, believe me!"
He still stared at her and the temperature around her seemed to drop procedurally. The he did something unexpected.
He smiled.
"It takes a lot of strength, I suppose." He said, some sick amusement in his tone. Turning around he opened the door and stood beside it.
"Why don't you come inside. Let's say hello to Maria."
"Are you...?" Cinders voice capitulated as he turned back around. Something about him seemed off. A primal force that seemed to surround him.
"I am Johannes my dear and I have shouldered some titles." A dangling, upside down rune was carefully engraved into the frame of the shotgun, hanging from a strap over his chest. She recognised it.
"But to most I've been known as the Good Hunter."