Grim looks away from the armored woman and back towards the body in front of him, a miserable smile on his face.

“You just had to show up didn’t you?” Grim mutters.

“What do you mean by that?” The woman says, this greeting far from what she was expecting.

“I meant why did you have to show up now? I’d rather you just have kept on your way.” He says, his eyes not meeting hers.

The Siren shuffles in annoyance at his answer, “Look kid I know you’re grieving, but I came because I thought I could help.”

“Tell that to everyone else.”

The Siren shakes her head as she kneels next to him, purposely blocking the view of the corpse in front of him. She pulls one two halves of one of his arrows out of a pouch on her hip and waves them in his face.

“Ghouls aren’t easy to hit from range. Yet you somehow managed to shoot down nearly dozen of them.”

“I got lucky they were distracted. Too busy to notice me.”

“They are also known to be pack animals, and when one goes down the others converge on the threat before returning to their food. I saw more than a couple with arrows identical to the ones in your quiver in their throats. You’d have been the first one to die if you just ‘got lucky’.” She says less than amused.

Grim looks at his quiver to see he still has three or so arrows. Turning back, he just shrugs.

“What are you getting at?” He says, irritation edging his words.

“I’m giving you a chance. A village kid who can shoot that well? Let’s just say it’s impressive,” She says, her eyes glancing around the building. “With a little guidance and a team. I wager you could make a good Butcher in Stena. Unless you’re set on dying alone.”

Grim stares down at his hands, the blood starting to dry. He looks up at her intrigued, “So you me to join the most elite monster hunters in the world, just because I can shoot decently?”

“Yep, few if any started as killing machines,” The siren says, her eyes distant in memories. “Most are picked up by an already existing member because they show aptitude for a certain role in a team and a willingness to put their life on the line. From then they’re trained to survive.”

“If a team is that important then why are you alone?” Grim asks absentmindedly.

“Teams don’t always stay together,” She says. “Some split up for a multitude of reasons or simply grow apart.”

“So why did yours split up?” He asks

“Not the time nor place for stories.” She says.

Before Grim can respond she stands and looks out the door of the building, “We need to go. Things worse than ghouls are going to smell all this blood,” She says, looking at Grim. “Decision time.”

Grim looks between his bow and the blood on the ground. The screams of his friend and words of his mother echoing in his head. He shakes his head, still not seeing any purpose.

“You want to just roll over and die?” The woman says as she leans in closer. “Be another snack for the creatures out there? You sure that’s how you want to go out?”

She stands and kicks the body he’d been mourning over. He goes to stop her just for an axe blade to be leveled at his throat.

“You can die now…or would you rather make the world suffer a little first?” She says, inching the blade closer

Grim thinks about it. The thought of curling into a ball sounded just fine at first, but a tiny voice in his head demanded more and he didn’t feel like arguing.

“Let’s go.” He says as he stands up, dropping his bow in the process.

“Good.” The Siren says, sheathing her weapon.

He looks at her confused, her intense aura having subsided. Shrugging he puts out his hand, “I’m Grim Gullen.”

“Welcome to Stena, Crimson,” She says, shaking his hand. “I’m Fey.”

“I said my name was Grim.”

“Not anymore. Grim is dead,” The Siren says, pulling out a small blade and cutting her hand with it. “Crimson was born today.”

The Siren wraps her bloodied hand around Grim’s throat, ignoring the squirming under her grasp.

“Long may he slay.”