Ash born from fire.
Steel born of earth.
A sundering blade of reckoning.
An ephemeral light of hope.
Humanities final weapon.
-The Sword of Remnant, by a travelling Wizard.
Summer blinked her eyes.
She hadn't seen what exactly Shirou had just fired clearly, but she instinctively understood that it was nothing the likes of which she or anyone on Remnant had ever seen before.
A core twisted in madness.
Distortions in space, violent zephyrs swirling in a conical vortex.
A veritable shockwave of heat and sound assailed Summer, bathing her in a dim orange hue that continued to spread out across the horizon. Tufts of her hair blew upwards fiercely, exposing the entirety of her forehead lined with several beads of perspiration.
Yet even still, Summer couldn't pry her gaze away from the spiraling blue light that tore across the air with deafening shockwaves that reverberated within her.
The bane of the Child of Light.
The Steel of Ulster.
A Sword of the Rainbow.
It struck down faster than the eye could ever see, and then all grew silent, breaths hitched in wonder; a fiery mushroom cloud of gravel, smoke, and fire, shooting towards the heavens like a hand of judgment.
Retribution.
Anger.
Animosity.
Summer could imagine them all; feel them all even.
To all watching, it was as if the pent-up emotions and frustration held within them materialized into a physical form given power, given proper comeuppance.
T-That had to be Dust. There was no other way Summer could explain it as she remained rooted. But more than that, it was difficult for her to believe it to be anything else.
Many legends and myths existed within Remnant's history, some more authentic than others and Summer had once read them all out of curiosity. The story of the Four Maidens, the origins of Dust and Aura, and an anthology of past Heroes and their numerous exploits for example were the most prominent myths in her mind. However, other than the folktale concerning the Four Maidens, there was no evidence of the other legends existing.
Most certainly not the 'Sword of Remnant,' an old and tattered tome she had found and read when tasked to investigate a mysterious ruin.
It spoke of a selfless Hero.
Clad in red, and on wings of steel that stretched beyond the skies.
A saviour of Humanity none in Remnant's history had ever seen.
Regardless of the authenticity of the tome, Summer was growing anxious due to a simple reason.
She couldn't remember the ending.
Did it end in tragedy? Or was there a light to be found in the darkness? The answer eluded her.
Summer pursed her lips together, and before she could even consider anything, she was already willing herself to float towards Shirou, her expression somber.
Shirou for his part was too busy surveying the damage ahead of him to take note of the peculiarity of Summer's expression. Ruby was clinging tightly onto his pant leg, her small hands clawing at the loose fabric with a tight grip. Her forehead pressed on the back of Shirou's thigh; she was absently peeking out from the side in a daze. Traces of awe and childish worship were present on her face in a way that wasn't much different when compared to her mother's.
YOU ARE READING
The Huntsman of Red V2
AdventureGuardian, Protector, Hero, and perhaps something more, that was what he had always meant to her, but to others he was simply known as the Huntsman of Red, Remnant's final hope. This story is not mine, it belongs to Parcasious
