𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖀𝖓𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖓

Omen

A/N: Introducing friends. Filler chapter, but a chapter nonetheless.

Somewhere in Anima...

"Who's he?"

"He appeared just a few days ago. A wandering Huntsman maybe?"

"Never seen him before."

He could hear the words being spoken behind his back, but he tried his hardest to mind his own business and continue drinking. Mostly because if he was not able to keep himself under control, he would draw his sword and slay every person present.

He had a faded brown hat that covered just enough of his eyes, and his clothes were reminiscent of old samurai kimonos. At his side was a foreign weapon, consisting of a black-as-night sheath and dark red sash. It looked vaguely like a katana, but it was no ordinary one. Adorning his feet were wooden sandals that clacked against the floor of the tavern every time the man fidgeted.

This was Yamamura the Wanderer, an Old Hunter from Yharnam. 

He was here in this tavern because he tracked an old Alpha Beowulf from further east. The damned thing had escaped his grasp time and time again by sheer luck, and he needed to find a way to kill that thing soon before it decided to make another pack of its own. Maybe he was getting rusty.

...Now that he thought about it, he remembered when he came to Yharnam because he had tracked down a beast to the area. He remembered what it looked like vividly.

A creature of impossible proportions, with a face that looked like a man's and yet not a man's. Covered in shaggy fur and dried blood, his Chikage barely made a dent on it. His clan was slaughtered by it, and when it ran with its tail between its legs, he pursued it west in honorable revenge. He remembered the name of the creature; the Bloodletting Beast.

He was brought out of his memories by a tap on the shoulder. "Um... sir? You just shattered one of our glasses." The waitress said with an awkward smile on her face. Yamamura looked down at his bleeding hand where the glass had shattered from his grip strength. He gasped out, and said, "Ahhh, I'm sorry. Here, um, how much does the glass cost? Agh, my God I am so sorry..."

He started to fish out some lien to repay the damage, bowing slightly as he did. All the while, the tavern was quiet. After all, just a second ago, Yamamura had a look about him that made everyone think, 'We're all going to die.'

The Old Hunter stepped out after paying for the damage, and the drinks. Five crows were there. They were just staring at him, like they had something to say. It was then Yamamura remembered. Where there are five crows, sickness follows. "That's a bad omen."

He walked away quickly, ready to continue trailing the beast.

--

Further north, somewhere in Atlas...

A man was wandering about the streets of Atlas, seemingly lost in the great floating city. He had appeared in the city a few days ago, in the clothing of a priest of an unknown religion. His hair was a matted blonde, his glasses cracked on the right lens, and his clothes, which to the people who have been observing him for the past few days seemed to be the only article of clothing he owned, were covered in dark stains that looked suspiciously like dried blood. He carried with him an ordinary cane, but the shadier residents of the city knew better than to underestimate him and that cane.

The cane was in truth a deadly whip. It was disguised very well, but even the cane form itself could serve well as a longsword. The first and only time he ever got into trouble for walking into the wrong place was when he walked into a speakeasy located in the outer areas of the city. He fit in really well after that when he fell a man three times his size when said man tried to intimidate him into leaving.