Remnants
Chapter 000: Prologue
Act 0
The streets thumped to the beat as the neon sign burned in the night. Клуб was the most popular nightclub in Vale, despite being a place known for seedy deals of all sorts. Tonight, though, the place seemed near vacant as the lone figure walked in. From what he could see of the usual guards and mercenaries, they were nursing some fairly recent wounds. Only a couple of the regulars were drinking at the tables, some of which seemed to be held together by duct tape and chewing gum. A familiar figure slumped over the bar. The approaching man could swear he was sitting on an ice pack while holding another over a large goose egg on his head.
"What the hell happened here, Hei?" Strike pushed his sunglasses up over his eyes and groaned as the strobe lights pulsed in time to the music. He settled into the barstool next to Junior. His dark blue dress shirt was messily unbuttoned, muted by the black vest resting over it. He ran a hand through his hair, messing the part as he let loose an explosive breath. The black belt barely stood out from the formal dress slacks, but what really drew the eye was the gold S-shaped belt buckle and the two pistol holsters. He casually patted a hand over a little carry pouch tied to his belt before leaning back onto the bar and looking up at the ceiling.
"A couple of nights ago, some blonde strode in here looking for information. She nearly killed my best men, and she beat up my mercs pretty badly too. When she didn't get what she wanted, she tore the place up on her way out." Junior groaned as he lifted his head. "What do you want, Strike?"
"Something to help me forget today," Strike muttered as he took a seat. "You know, perhaps if you actually bought some firearm parts, built a few guns for your men, you would've had an easier time?"
Junior groaned as he signaled the bartender, who grabbed a bottle off the counter and began making a drink. "You know I can't afford that. Got a lot of bills to pay, especially now with medical bills and fixing the bar."
"Tell you what. I think I can call you a valued customer, especially with the order for all the machete blades and fire axes you made last year. I can help you out. Cut you a discount."
"I appreciate it." Junior groaned again as the bartender slid the drink down. "Nineteen years old, runs the largest weapon parts business in the four kingdoms. What's a respectable businessman like yourself doing down here drinking with Vale's go-to guy for extra muscle? You never come around without a good reason."
"A few reasons, one of which being that I've decided what I'm going to do with my life, besides running the company," Strike replied as he took a drink.
"Oh? Swimming in money not your type of life?" Junior let out a dry chuckle.
"Going to become a huntsman."
"Aren't people a little younger when they make that decision? Go to one of those fancy prep schools or something?" Junior questioned as the barkeep slid a new ice pack down. Junior nodded gratefully as he took it and slid his back. The barkeep promptly placed it in the chiller beneath the bar with the other cooled liquor, then poured something into a shot glass and slid it to Junior. Junior motioned, and the tender slid the whole bottle down.
"Yeah, well, I've already gotten training under two huntsmen, so I have that covered. And I'm going with a friend who'll probably like to have someone he knows there."
"Well then, drinks on the house," Junior said. "Here's to your future." He gingerly lowered the ice pack and lifted his shot glass.
Strike mimicked the gesture without enthusiasm and downed his drink. "And to giving up a piece of freedom."
"So, we both know as much as you love getting hammered with me, this isn't a social call," Junior said as his expression grew grim. "So seriously, what is it you need from me?"
"I haven't asked you much about your ... business for the last few years, and I've been wondering…" Strike's expression turned dark. "Do you keep note of where your men are sent and what they were hired to do?"
"Azul, the two of us go way back. Your dad knew mine. All those years, he paid to keep ahead of what goes on in my world. We're as good as family. You think if I'd heard about a job like that going down I wouldn't have warned your dad about it?" Junior asked. "I swear, we had nothing to do with it."
Strike sighed as he lowered his gaze. "Yeah… I just–I just can't believe the fact that there are no trails, no clues, nothing to lead towards who caused the security breach."
"Look, Az, I may not have details on everything, but … a couple nights ago one of my boys overheard some Faunus who came in for a drink. They don't wear their masks when they come here, but people like us can spot a White Fang a mile away. They get into the strong stuff, and you know how it goes. Lips get loose after you down enough of the stuff. So they start talking about how the White Fang's been experimenting on turning grimm on people. Says they've been working on it for a few years now. It isn't anything concrete, but it does sound a bit familiar." Junior looked at him. "If you want, I can take one of them aside next time they come in, see if my boys can't get them real chatty."
"I'd like that," Strike said, placing his glass down. "I think I know just how to pay you for this. Ask for me when you make that order."
"You spoil me, Strike." Junior laughed before wincing. "Here's to us," he said, pouring his drink and taking another shot.
Strike placed two solid gold lien cards onto the table. "That should cover some troubles. I'd prefer to not walk through glass to get in." Strike chuckled as he stood to leave.
"Take care of yourself, Strike. Those grimm don't play around," Junior said as he hastily pocketed the cards, his injuries forgotten for the moment.
"And neither do I," Strike finished, leaving the building. He stared up at the sky for a time, then chuckled as he turned down the street. After about a block or so, he turned down an alleyway until he reached the brick wall and fire escape nearby. "Oh no, I took a wrong turn," Azul muttered with heavy sarcasm as he listened to the footsteps that trailed him enter the alleyway behind him.
"Yes you did." A voice chuckled as several shadowy figures crawled out from the rooftops, side street, and behind bags of garbage. "And it looks like you're outnumbered. Now why don't you do the smart thing and empty your pockets for us, and we'll be on our way."
Strike simply pulled out a small clip of gold lien with a casual flare before placing it back into his pocket. "Sounds more like the stupid thing to do," he said, turning towards the group. They could hardly be called a gang. Most of the men were middle-aged and at least half of them were out of shape. They were covered in dirt and their clothing seemed to consist of whatever they could find. A few of them had bats, and one of them had a pistol, but as far as weapons go, they had nothing particularly frightening to the soon-to-be-huntsman.
"Pretty irresponsible, flashing money around like that. Why don't you just let someone more… responsible look after it?"
"I'm pretty sure Junior isn't a good idea."
"Looks like we got ourselves a funny boy here, guys." The thugs laughed.
"Just wait for my punchline," Strike said as his frown pulled into a smirk.
"Well, let's see it, funny boy," the gangster said. Then he fired his gun at Strike. Just as the bullet would have made contact, Strike's aura fired as dark purple energy built at the point of impact, causing the bullet to ricochet. The man fired six more times before the gun jammed.
In a blink Strike lunged forward, grabbed the gun arm, and twisted it, causing the would-be-mugger to drop the gun. Strike caught it mid-fall and slammed the butt of the pistol into the man's face, shattering it. He brought the remainder of the pistol to his face and blocked a bat with his left hand as he casually took in a familiar symbol on the pistol's barrel. "Atlas? Really?" He tossed the gun away in disgust before wrenching the bat from its owner. He tossed it at another charging man, promptly knocking the thug backwards with the force of the throw before slamming his elbow into the bat owner's face. Reaching to his waist, he unzipped the pouch. The moment it was open, a metal object popped out and immediately began unfolding. Metal chambers expanded and grew, taking the form of a large Thompson machine gun. The drum barrel glowed yellow as the electric dust chamber activated.
"Thank you all for volunteering to be my latest test subjects." Strike chuckled as he pulled the trigger. The gun began spewing out yellow rounds. The men struck immediately stiffened as electricity flowed over their bodies from the dust-imbued rounds. The gun fired flawlessly for a full two seconds before something jammed in the chamber and the gun proceeded to explode in Strike's hands. Fortunately for him, his aura absorbed most of the damage. His would-be-assaulters, however, received quite a shock in the process as a bright yellow shockwave of electricity blew out the alleyway and dropped them to the ground.
The fragments of the gun had scattered in all directions, impacting Strike's aura. One particularly large fragment barely broke through, leaving just enough force to crash into his sunglasses. While the fragment rebounded harmlessly, the lenses shattered to reveal one blue and one red eye. He frowned deeply as he looked to the remnants of the destroyed firearm in hand before folding the fragments back into the pouch at his hip. "Failure," he muttered to himself as he thoughtfully ran his fingers over his five o'clock shadow. The faint bumps and ridges of his many scars were barely visible in the pale light of the moon, though one particularly ugly scar ran down from the right edge of his lip to his chin in an angry red. He turned to take in the bevy of unconscious thugs around him. "Well, for the most part," he amended. He casually approached the motley crew's leader and nudged his face with a toe. The man looked up with wide, astonished eyes. They quickly filled with fear as Strike grinned down at him. "Try this again, and I won't use stun-based ammunition. Got it?"
The man began to cry pitifully as he nodded his head. The remainder of the crew groaned in agreement, or at least Strike took it as such.
Strike chuckled as he removed his destroyed sunglasses, pulling out a new pair from his vest. "Let's hope there isn't a next time, eh? For your sake." He slowly strode out of the alleyway and peered into the street. The old street lamps flickered to life in the sketchy neighborhood, and Strike smiled as he reached into his coat and pulled out a small square device with a big red button. He promptly pressed it. A few seconds later, the loud roar of an engine and three bright yellow lights in the distance signaled the approach of his motorcycle. Its four cylinder engine purred as it pulled up and extended a kickstand. He promptly mounted the vehicle and revved its engine as a bright red glow emanated from its tail pipes. He grinned as he pressed a tiny red button near his thumb and the bike rocketed into the night, leaving behind the remains of his first pair of glasses.
The sun shone brightly on the plains along the worn road to vale. The city stood with its walls and natural barriers as a testament against the harshness of the outside world. On this day a single figure could be seen making his way towards it. On his back a simple rucksack contained all his earthly belongings. He stood out against the scenery at a full seven feet, his chest clad in a sleeveless black shirt covered by a worn leather vest. His hair was black with green highlights sporadically mixed into his bangs. Sharp blue eyes scanned the horizon before him as he moved. His sharp bird-like nose paid careful attention to the scent on every breeze that blew by. The loose ends on of the simple cloth wraps that covered his forearm from elbow to hand danced in the breeze as he strode onwards, at least until his ears caught the wavering wail of a klaxon air horn. Just then, a new scent carried onto the breeze. It was a scent he'd grown up learning to hate. Grimm were near.
Checking his rucksack was secure after hiding it in the knothole of a nearby tree, Grun turned towards the scent. His normally round irises turned to slits and a cloud of dust blasted behind him as he charged. What he saw stopped him for a minute. The grimm were massing near a hole in the city's wall. The attack seemed fairly minor, just a pack of beowulves with a few ursa mixed in, but it was clear that more would come soon from the fear that would doubtless build. Fear, however, wasn't what burned in Grun's veins as he rushed forward, his father's last words echoing in his mind.
"The grimm of Remnant are soulless beasts, son. They show no mercy, no compassion, no thought, and function only to be hunted down and destroyed."
Having witnessed their rabid behavior first hand for so long, Grun was inclined to agree. Growling ferociously, he pounced on the first beowulf he encountered, punching the beast repeatedly. The grimm turned around to lash at him, leaving three red streaks across the back of Grun's wrist and cutting away the cloth to reveal yellow scaled flesh reaching from elbow to hand and five fingers topped with wicked curved talons. Snarling in pain, the Faunus sunk the edges of his talons into the beowulf's throat and threw it aside before using one of them to rip the bandages from his other arm. With both sets of talons freed, Grun proceeded to tear into the horde, slashing throats, breaking necks, or simply impaling the creatures onto his talons and watching as they vanished. The wind slowly began to pick up around him as his semblance fired up and a green aura covered his body. With a swipe of his talons he sent a series of vacuum slashes through the air, effortlessly rending an ursa into four pieces. Beasts. That was all they were, and that was how he fought them, like a beast. Grun roared in pain as a beowulf lashed at his side before slashing back and severing the beast's leg, which he then proceeded to drive into its mouth and down its throat. Ten, twenty, thirty. Grun fought on and on, leaving a misty swath behind him that lingered a whole five minutes before it fully dissipated.
Making his way through the gap in the wall, Grun found himself inside a building. Bodies of guards and grimm who had yet to vanish lined the wall as living guards and grimm fought for their lives. The recent thinning of the grimm numbers bolstered the guards' resolve, which in turn weakened the grimm as the fear and anger began to dissipate. The tide began to turn, and the guards seemed to be gaining ground now. The world was a blur of blood and grimm as the Faunus made his way into the building, clearing any grimm that got in his way. He charged forward, barely perceiving the lab and technical equipment surrounding him. He didn't notice the remains at the giant Ursa's paws as it crunched. All he knew was he smelled blood. He heard the screams. This grimm had to die. Charging the beast in a berserker fury, Grun ripped into the monster's chest, lunging his talons through its giant frame and out it's back. He watched in a primal satisfaction as the creature began to dissolve before he felt something hard strike against the back of his head. Then everything went black.
Grun groaned as he woke, his head blurring in pain. He tried to raise a hand to rub his temples and stop the aching, only to feel the other pulled to follow. Wishing to clear the pain as soon as possible, he didn't question it, and simply tried to get the relief he so desperately needed. So close. So close now. And then he felt something tug against his wrists, stopping his arms within a few centimeters of his goal. Opening his eyes, he tried to scan the blurry room as his vision slowly cleared. Much to his surprise, he discovered that both of his hands had been covered in a metal dome-like glove that was chained to the wall of what he guessed to be a prison cell.
"Hey! Why am I here? Where am I? I was trying to help those people!" he shouted as he rattled the chains, trying to get someone's attention, anyone's attention.
"Shut up, scum," a hefty voice rasped. A few moments later, a tall man in formal armor with a stun lance turned to face the prisoner. "You'll get your chance to plead your case at your trial." The guard turned his back. "Assuming you even get to your trial," he mumbled with a malevolent chuckle.
"I was killing the grimm," Grun shouted. "I didn't hurt anyone. Just the grimm."
"Tell it to Strike Co.," the guard snapped.
It would be four hours before Grun found out he was accused of the murder of Turque and Garnet Strike, using the attack as a cover, despite numerous times explaining that he had only been attacking the grimm and recounting the events as best as his memory would allow him. It was quite clear that much like the rest of the world, the good word of a Faunus meant little here. Grif sat back in his cell, tired, but too smart to believe it was safe to sleep. He was famished, and nearly entirely helpless without the use of his hands. The hairs on his neck began to prickle when his guard "went on break" and none came to replace him. He sighed in a resigned fashion when he heard the key turn and the door open. "Couldn't even wait for a formal execution?" Grif spat as the figure moved towards him, producing a jagged knife from the folds of his robe.
"Well, if it helps, at least you'll be dying for a good cause. When it comes out on the news tomorrow that Azul Strike had his parents' murderer killed, it will easily take away the public's faith in Strike Co. Your brave sacrifice will go far, brother." The figure came closer, revealing a tall man with small antlers sprouting out the sides of his mask. "The White Fang thanks you." He pulled the knife back over his head and moved to strike the fatal blow.
The loud retort of a single gunshot rang through the cell. Volts of electricity arced over the assailant's body before he slumped to the ground, revealing a frowning Azul Strike with fresh cuts covering his lower jaw. In his hand, the glowing barrel of one of his trusty Desert Eagles provided just enough light to see his disgust. Shaking his head, he lowered the weapon.
Grun looked into Azul's eyes. "I don't blame you for what you came here to do, but if you're going to pull that trigger, then let me at least look you in the eye and say it. I didn't kill your parents." Grun's face fell. "And I'm truly sorry I couldn't save them."
"...I know you didn't kill them," he heard Azul reply. "I watched the security footage."
Grun's head snapped up. "Then why are you here?"
"You have a target painted on your back now because Vale believes you murdered them," Azul said coldly. "The grimm were brought in by a breach in security set up by god knows who."
"Yes, but you don't owe me anything," Grun said. "You've lost your parents. You should be grieving. You shouldn't be spending your time–"
"Saving an innocent? There have already been too many deaths, and I will not allow another to happen if I can do anything to stop it."
Grun looked at Azul, staring intently into his eyes, almost as if trying to read his soul. Peace can only be achieved when the best of humanity can be shown the best of the Faunus. It had been his father's life philosophy, and now here, standing before him, Grun believed he may have found someone to embody that best of humanity. "Thank you," he finally said. "You have no idea how much it means to have someone who believes me."
"I'll release you from custody when I get the security footage to the guard, as well as have this–" Azul nudged the faunus beneath him roughly with his foot. "–fiend put in prison for attempted murder."
"I'd shake your hand, but–" Grun chuckled, clanking his restraints. "Even then, I don't want to think what that would do to your wrist."
Azul simply grabbed the cuffs holding Grun's hands to the wall and pulled them apart. "I'll never understand why they use Atlas products in a secure prison."
Grun let out a groan as he flexed his hands. The muscles and joints practically screamed in relief. They had become stiff from being forced into one position for so long. He checked his talons quickly, making sure they hadn't been chipped or broken in the process of his capture. "That's two I owe you."
Azul simply held his hand out to pick Grun up.
"You do see the things sprouting from my hands, right?" Grun asked, raising a confused eyebrow. Azul simply reinforced the fact that he was waiting by offering his hand once more.
Grun shrugged before grabbing it, surprised when he found his claws stopped by Strike's aura, and by the power behind the grip. The hands were thick-skinned and calloused. "Thank you, Azul."
"Call me Strike."
A dry wind whipped through the trees, causing them to wave before the lonely mountain. A tiny glint of light flickered briefly from one of the boughs. On closer examination, a pair of golden lenses were revealed to be the cause as a young girl with bright red hair and a gold scarf wrapped around her neck lowered the site on her RPG launcher. Just a few clicks away, a large cave laid in wait. A single beowulf snuffled at the ground, peering cautiously through the underbrush before it turned and entered the cave.
The girl smirked, then dropped silently to the earth. She walked casually to the cave and boldly entered as she passed into the darkness, reaching to a tube hanging from her vest and cracking its contents. She shook it to make it glow, then continued on her way. Eventually, she came to a dead end and grinned as pair upon pair of glowing red eyes surrounded her. She casually jammed her RPG launcher backwards, slamming into the stomach of an ursa and sending it flying into several lesser beowulves. With a series of angry snarls, the wave of eyes lunged forward, revealing lashing masks and blank black faces with hungry red eyes. The girl's own red eyes glowed as the gold flecks within grew brighter and a site formed on the lenses of her glasses. She leaped into the air and fired, taking out a good fifteen of them before diving headfirst. Her gold tipped black gloves struck and a series of electric pulses ran over them as she began punching and kicking the grimm, sending them flying into the cave wall and impaling each of them on the others' claws. Reaching back into her pack, she pulled out an even larger round labeled BITE ME. Her tightly drawn red hair whipped back and forth from its unique sniper round pin. She swept her adversaries aside with a wide blow from her launcher and dashed back down the cave with the other grimm hot on her heels.
As she leapt back into the open air, she flipped over, catching a brief glimpse at the sky as the sun's light reflected on her white teeth, causing them to glint before she landed on her feet and slid backwards, the friction of her hiking boots slowing her momentum. Just as the grimm were about to break out of the cave, she launched the RPG. Its outer shell broke apart, becoming high velocity shrapnel while a series of smaller RPGs blew out on their own rocket propulsion to strike the creatures and the sides of the mountain itself. An angry rumble heralded the beginning of the end as a giant dust cloud blew out from the cave. When all the dust had cleared, nothing remained of the cave but a pile of silt and rubble. Nodding, she pressed a tiny button on the side of her weapon and watched as it compressed into an over-the-shoulder metal storage pack.
She grinned and turned to see another girl holding a giant gatling gun and wearing a simple beret with a series of ammunition belts that hung from her shoulder and around her waist. The new girl pulled her glasses down to the tip of her nose and peered over them. "You better now, Topaz?"
Topaz nodded and grinned as she embraced the other girl.
"Easy, cous. I'm not as durable as I look, you know." She laughed as Topaz mercilessly tackled her to the forest floor and the pair began to wrestle.
Azure chuckled as he crouched to face the three shadowy figures he'd bound together with his lasso. A ring of horses and cattle surrounded them, and he grinned as he turned his head to face them, his brown horse ears twitching in anticipation. "Thanks, everyone." Then he returned to the men on the ground. "So, you guys want to explain why you're sneaking around Mister Boison's fields?" he asked as he hefted a bag full of glowing red crystals. The light was just enough to illuminate his long, shaggy blonde hair as it flowed down his back. His piercing sky-blue eyes analyzed the men with practiced ease. His simple homespun shirt clung to his broad chest, exposing some of the skin as he dusted the dirt from his mud brown pants. An old hand-carved longbow and a rough quiver had been tied to his back. "With these no less?" He whistled. "This is some pretty high quality dust."
"We don't have to say anything to you," one of the men said. "You're not the cops."
"No, but I'm pretty sure Mister Boison can get them, and we've got all night."
"You can't hold us like prisoners," another man said. "You're no authority."
"Well, I'm not exactly educated, but I'm pretty sure trespassing gives me all the authority I need." He rose to his feet and passed to one of the smaller horses. Smiling, he placed a hand on its muzzle. "Go get Mister Boison for me, okay, Fleet Foot?" A dim glow emanated briefly from his hands and the horse nodded before racing off. The rest of the two herds quickly closed the gap again.
"What's a stupid animal going to do?" One of the men said while the others laughed.
"Nothing much. Just get the owner out here to decide what to do with you is all. I'm just the help. Like you said, a stupid animal like me can't do much. But I'm guessing an educated human can."
"All he's going to do is turn us over to the cops," was the only response he got.
"Maybe. Maybe not." Azure hefted the bag of dust. "So are you folks going to tell me what you were planning, or am I going to have to pull it out of you the hard way?"
One of the men opened his mouth to speak before a large black arrow dug itself into his neck. He fell to the ground sputtering as the arrow dissipated. The horses reared and the cattle ran as the scent of fresh blood filled their nostrils. Azure's ears twitched and he jumped to the side just as three more shafts embedded themselves into the earth. The arrows had to be nearly a yard long. One of the horses fell to the earth, kicking up dust for all it was worth with its forehooves. Its rear legs had been shattered and blood flowed freely from the wounds.
"Bay!" Azure cried. He turned to the other horses. "Run!" he shouted. They didn't need any more encouragement as each beast scattered. Azure scanned the boundaries of the farm, trying his best to determine just where the shots had come from. Something shifted beneath the trees, but it was still too far off to really make out just what. He could feel the hairs rising on the back of his neck. He turned and grabbed one of the men by the collar. "Who's out there? Who else did you bring with you?" he growled.
"N-nobody! We didn't bring nobody else," one of the men said. "It was just the three of us. Oh god. I-if they's not with you, and they's not with us, then …" His eyes widened. "We're gonna die." The man panicked, thrashing against his bonds.
"My horse is dying! Now you tell me what's firing on us, or so help me …"
He didn't have time to say anything else. He barely dodged another arrow as it slashed across his back. He felt the cool night air on his skin. Reaching to his leather belt, he pulled a knife from its sheath and cut the men's bonds. He grabbed the bag and rose. "Go," he said. "And don't come back." With that, Azure was off. A puff of dust was all that remained behind as he pounded across the fields, strafing as he struggled to avoid the hail of arrows that followed. The clouds broke from overhead, revealing the full shattered moon as it shone down on the farm. There, from the shadows of the trees, a lone figure emerged.
Heart racing, adrenaline pounding, Azure watched as the thing leapt into the air. Whatever it was, it had a bow, and a dark glow pulsed from its place. The bolts shot with nigh-perfect accuracy. He barely had the reflexes to avoid the shots. Continuing in its arc, the creature soon landed just a short ways from the first of the pair of thugs. Slowly, it rose to its feet. Standing a full ten feet, its sleek ebony skin reflected the moonlight as it clutched its white bone bow. Its hair had been tied into a tightly woven braid with red highlights and dark red tips at the end. The creature's mask proved to be surprisingly elegant, almost like a fine filigree with pulsing red veins leading to what normally would have been some type of mount for jewels. Instead, only a sooty ember-like obsidian burned in its place. Grey feather-like protrusions jutted backwards from behind its ears to complete the appearance of a masquerade mask.
Its profile was surprisingly humanoid in nature, even to the point of its lips, which were a startling purple. They pulled back into a subtle smile as the creature approached the man. It reached down to its sleek leg, which had emerged from the folds of a strangely slitted skirt to reveal a leg sheath. The knife it drew was a large as a short sword, and as it drew nearer to its target, the grimm opened its mouth in a warped grin as its eyes flashed an unholy red beneath the mask. It lunged, and the man screamed but once before it faded off to a gurgle, then ultimately stopped. The moonlight reflected off the white bone that formed the belt of the creature's ensemble. Whatever this grimm was, it certainly wasn't a beowulf, and it was larger, stronger, and faster than anything Azure had encountered before. He froze as the creature rose. It turned its smile on him, then wagged its finger mischievously before it dashed off after the other man. He trembled as he heard the last husky rattle of a dying horse. He felt a sudden sense of loss as it passed. Bay was dead. That grimm had killed him. It had killed two men. It was hunting a third. And ... oh no.
The sound of rapidly approaching hooves confirmed his fears as Azure turned to see Fleet Foot racing back with a somewhat portly man on his back. His worried expression and squinting eyes had no idea what lay ahead save what the beam of his lantern provided. "No, go back. Go back," Azure muttered under his breath. Naturally, they couldn't hear him, but the grimm did hear them. It pivoted where it stood and stared at the approaching figure, then returned its knife to its sheath before raising its bow again. A black aura gathered around it before solidifying into another shaft.
"No!" Azure cried.
The monster looked at him, smirked, then fired. Boison's eyes widened as the shaft penetrated his weak field of light. The horse kept going, not knowing any better. It wasn't the target. Just as the shaft was about to strike, a ball of fire struck it aside, knocking it off course and reducing the shaft to embers as it landed in the midst of the dry grass. Fleet Foot reared in surprise, throwing his rider off his back. Boison was on the ground, freshly winded, and an easy target. In a matter of seconds, Azure was standing between the grimm and its new prey.
"Hands off my family!" he snarled. His knuckles had turned a pale white as he clutched a fading crystal. Remnants of a pale red mist clung to his arm, glowing as dimly as embers as he stared the grimm down.
"Whats going on, boy?" Boison shouted as he got to his feet. He barely managed to get a hold of the reins he had installed on the young stallion and pulled him up cold before trying to get the horse behind cover.
"Take Fleet Foot and get back to the farmhouse as fast as you can. Take Ma and get into the shelter. It's not safe here."
"Wha–?" Boison's words hitched in his throat as he processed what Azure said. "This is business for the huntsmen, boy. Come on. We should get out while we can."
Azure's ear twitched as he dropped the sack and quickly grabbed two more of the crystals. Jutting his hands out, twin streams of red light flowed up his arms as the crystals glowed brightly. Then twin streams of white-hot flame shot outwards, incinerating the incoming barrage of arrows. "There's no time. Fleet Foot's not big enough to carry the both of us. I can at least buy you some time, and I can run as fast as a horse can already. Get as far away from here as you can. I don't know how long I can keep this up. Hell, I don't even know what I'm doing. But at least you can get out of here and get help. I'm not letting you get hurt. And besides … it killed Bay." Azure's eyes hardened with anger as he braced for the next attack.
Boison looked at him. "Let me stay, boy. I'm old. I've lived a good life. You take Fleet Foot and get out of here."
"Ma would tan both our hides and you know it. I'm not going to argue with you, Dad. Get on Fleet Foot and get out of here."
"You're not old enough to be giving me orders, boy. Get on the horse and go!" The farmer's tone became serious as he stomped his foot down, making his stance clear.
Azure growled as he hurled another set of fireballs. He bit his lip, growled again, then threw the crystals down and turned towards the old farmer and his horse. Boison nodded and smiled, happy to know that his boy had finally seen reason.
"... Sorry, dad," Azure said, his voice cracking. The Faunus turned deftly and slammed the old farmer on the side of his head with a well-aimed punch. The effect was instantaneous, though the look of bewilderment on the old farmer's face tore the boy's heart. He picked up the old man and put him on the charger. Then he took the horse's reins and made contact with its muzzle. The dim glow emanated again. "Get him back home and get Ma out of bed. I don't care what you have to do. Get them both to safety, you hear?"
Fleet Foot nodded, turned, then trotted as fast as he could manage without disturbing his cargo. With the main source of fear snuffed, the grimm had a new target. Azure snorted in a manner only a horse could before angrily scuffing at the earth with his worn boots. He grabbed the sack and dug at the earth with his boots as he laid his hand onto the earth in a runner's stance. "Catch me if you can," he said, his expression grim as he charged forward. Embers floated behind him, landing in the dry grass as he blew through the fields. A thin vine of smoke began to rise slowly as he raced away.
The grimm let out a loud wail like the scream of a banshee before it took off after him, firing shafts as the two of them ran. It seemed, Azure realized, that it couldn't aim very well while moving. He zigzagged as he ran, making it harder for the arrows to strike. Shafts snapped harmlessly as they struck hard earth, far away from their target.
"You'll have to do better than that!" Azure bellowed as he pulled another dust crystal from the sack. He clutched it and squeezed, spreading cracks along its casing before he threw it at the grimm. The crystal shattered at its feet and erupted in a gout of flame.
The grimm bellowed as it took a massive leap, going right over the flames and landing without slowing down.
"Damn," Azure swore. "Forgot it could do that." Then he put on more steam and kept running. He felt something warm and wet on the side of his arm, but he couldn't take the time to worry about it now. If one of those arrows had gotten close enough to nick him, he couldn't afford to slow down. But how long could he keep this up? He looked over his shoulder and smiled. At least his ma and dad would be safe. Turning ahead, he could just make out the shadow of the old boulder at the center of the pastures. As a child, he'd climbed on it and gleefully directed the horses, jumping from back to back and back on top of the boulder again. That meant they'd come only about five hundred yards or so. Still, pretty good for facing a monster like this. He could feel his chest starting to burn. He hadn't run this hard in a long time, and the boulder would be able to provide some much needed cover.
… Then again, maybe not. Just as Azure dove, he felt and heard the arrow whizz over his head and through his hair, slicing pieces to drift down to the earth. The shaft embedded itself into the boulder and cracks began spidering across the surface of the rock. Azure quickly ducked behind the other side. By the second shot the stone had already begun to surrender. It rumbled ominously as a rain of grey powder descended. With a resounding crack the third shaft made contact. The two halves of the once-mighty boulder gave way with a horrendous crash. As the dust cleared, a bright technicolor light glowed from the spot. Azure peeked over the edge of the boulder just enough to realize what had been hidden in plain sight for all this time.
The geode was positively massive. Veins of red, blue, green, yellow, orange, black, and too many others glowed together, practically blinding him with their light. He hissed in pain as his ankles throbbed. He'd pushed himself too far this time. He reached down and rubbed them both. He could feel them swelling already. Closing his eyes, he concentrated as the dim glow returned to his hands and ran over the site. The swelling eased and he sighed in relief. He couldn't keep running. The scent of smoke filled his nostrils. The fields were on fire. Good. Hopefully someone would see it and send help. And now that he had this gigantic pile of dust, he might just stand a chance. The beginnings of a very dangerous and very stupid plan entered his mind. Smiling and chuckling to himself amidst the rain of arrows pelting the sides and edges of the geode, he pulled off his longbow and grabbed one of his best arrows.
"Here's hoping this works," he said as he nocked the arrow. Then he jumped up onto the boulder and drew back. Even if he were to die, this thing wouldn't kill any more of his family. No more. He felt a strange sort of thrill rush through him as he took up his stance, straddling the two rocks as he pulled back on the arrow in question. Bolts fired, but struck against a barrier of red light as lines of mist began to flow towards the arrow from each of the veins of crystal. Well … that was unexpected, but hey, if the dust was going to protect him, he was not about to complain about it. The arrow started to glow as the rainbow of colors wrapped around it and his vision suddenly narrowed down to just the grimm. Images of Boison, his wife, Fleet Foot, and Bay all raced across his mind, filling him with determination. "Nobody touches my family and gets away with it," he said. His right eye began to glow white as the colors coalesced, causing the arrow to glow the same way.
The grimm smiled as it eyed it's prey. There was no longer anything between the two, and just by looking at it, the grimm could tell it was exhausted and unable to run. A purple and black mist condensed in its hands as it pulled back its bow, forming a shaft. It took careful aim, not giving it's quarry a chance to run before releasing the string. The shaft loosed from the bow fully before the fog expanded, forming countless other shafts in front of it, all headed towards the Faunus.
Azure screamed as he let the his arrow loose. Much to his surprise, a shower of white lights blew past his hair, following the arrow and causing his hair to blow in front of him. Black struck white and shaft shattered shaft as the rain of light and darkness continued, neither fully giving way. The smoke had grown heavy now, stinging Azure's eyes and burning his lungs as the effects of his last effort cleared. The light faded from his eye and the grimm stepped forward with that same wicked smirk on its face. The geode at his feet was dead, lifeless crystal. Azure paled as sweat poured down his face. This was it. That thing was going to kill him.
The grimm pulled its bow back one last time, preparing for the kill. It was triumphant, and the fear was glorious. Its prey knew its time had come. Yet as the grimm drew back its arm its bow vanished into mist. It watched as the blackness moved down, slowly enveloping its arms. A dim glow issued from its chest, and as it looked down, a single white shaft stood out from its chest, impaled dead center. The grimm gave off one last haunting wail before it vanished entirely, its last few notes echoing on the wind as they mourned its defeat. Then it simply was no more.
Azure laughed, then he collapsed to the ground, shaking as the fires raged around him. He blinked blurrily. He felt so tired. So very … very tired. Something crunched the ground nearby, crushing the brittle grass, but he was too exhausted to even turn. Blackness encroached, and then there was nothing.
"Hey." The voice was blurry in Azure's ears, both sets, as the sensation of someone shaking him started to move through his frame. "Come on. Wake up!"
Azure didn't understand. What was that sound? Something … buzzing? And .. the shaking. What … what was going on? His eyelids felt so heavy, and his limbs felt like they could hardly move, but he had to see. See … whatever it was. In a tremendous effort, he barely managed to pull open his eyelids.
"Come on, kid."
Azure felt someone lift him to his feet. Something tugged on his arm and slid beneath, holding him up.
"We need to get you out of here before more grimm show up," the voice said.
Azure could hardly see a face. He felt his body being dragged gently across the dry earth.
"I don't know who you are, but Ozpin's going to find you mighty interesting."
"... Who?" Azure found himself asking as he struggled not to fall back into the abyss.
"Don't worry about that none right now."
That was the last thing Azure remembered before he woke up in his bed. His body felt sore, his head hurt like he'd been kicked by a mule, but at least he was alive. Had the whole thing just been a dream? He stumbled out of bed, making his way to the door. The cool morning air tickled at his bare back and chest as he reached for the doorknob. A dull pain in his arm prompted him to look to his left. A tight bandage had been wrapped over a seeping wound. Where had he …? He shook his head. He'd sort that out later. He pulled the door open and shuffled down the hall to the scent of toasted bread, fried eggs, and freshly cooked bacon.
As he passed the last door, his shuffling gait finally led him to the treasure trove he had been seeking. A practical buffet of baked goods and savory breakfast dishes lined the counters and table. Mister Boison sat with his back turned as he drank his morning coffee. Mrs. Boison turned with a smile as she held a freshly baked tin of muffins. The smile immediately vanished when she saw Azure. The pan clattered to the floor, sending crumbs flying everywhere. The blue streaks left on the floor indicated that they were her famous blueberry streusel muffins with just a hint of their namesake mixed in. She placed her mittened hands to her lips. Her long pink hair had been left undone, and her dark cherry lips and deep purple eyes wobbled and watered respectively.
"Hey, Ma," Azure said awkwardly as his lips pulled up into a half smile. He soon found himself practically knocked off his feet by the tiny, yet strong woman as she sobbed into his bare chest, her berry-themed apron still on and stained with flower, egg, and all manner of food products and ingredients.
"Don't you ever scare us like that again!" she wailed. "When Fleet Foot came back with your father slumped over the saddle and the fire in the fields, I thought … I thought …" the tears flowed freely and words failed her.
"You had us both mighty worried, boy," Boison said as he took a hit from his coffee. His lumpy black hair stood out just as stubbornly as ever. "We thought you for dead when this stranger came up the walk with you slumped across his back."
"... Stranger?" Azure turned his head to his usual seat at the dining table. However, rather than eagerly awaiting his arrival as it always had these many years, a new prospect had taken residence, and the traitorous seat hadn't even put up a fuss. The invader was a tall thin figure of a man wearing a long rough hide coat that had been dyed a deep crimson red. Beneath the coat, from what azure could see at least, he wore a black vest with a white shirt, and a tie the same shade of his coat. His face seemed to be covered in taut skin with two thick brown eyebrows and a head of similar thick brown hair. A carefully waxed and trimmed mustache hung above his lip, giving him an almost humorous appearance were it not for his sad brown eyes. Sitting on the table in front of him was a large brimmed black hat and a double gun belt carrying two holstered revolvers and a large kukri knife lay sheathed between the two.
"Crimson Jim Jackson." The man's accent was thick, but his voice carried a friendly tone as he nodded his head to Azure. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"... Azure Luz," Azure said as he began to make his way towards the table, his mother still holding tightly to his torso as he laid an arm around her shoulders.
"I think we have some things to talk about, son. The first bein' you stole my bounty. I'd been tracking that grimm for two weeks straight." His tone didn't carry any form of anger as he covered the subject. "It doesn't feel right by me taking money I haven't earned."
Azure raised a quizzical brow. "You're a huntsman?"
"Yup." The man nodded. "Been one for nearly fourteen years now. First time I'd seen something that damn impressive, too. Where did you learn to shoot?"
"Here," Azure said as his mother gently helped lower him into her usual chair. He shrugged with a bit of a wince. "You get a few wild grimm here from time to time. I tend the cattle and the horses, so I had to learn how to protect them." His eyes suddenly widened. "The herd! Are they alright?"
"After I got you back home, I went out and kept watch till things calmed down. Don't worry none. They'll be okay." Crimson's look grew serious. "Now, son, I was paid two thousand lien to kill that grimm, but you done got it before me. So I'll tell you my offer, and you tell me if that's fair." He pulled out a large stack of cards. "I'm going to take five hundred of these to cover my expenses for the last two weeks, and you take the rest for doing the job. That's seventy five percent since you done did my contract for me. Not to mention the damages to cover on your farm. That sit alright with you, son?" The man asked, offering the larger portion of the stack.
Azure gaped. "That much?"
"I know it's steep, but two weeks of tracking is expensive" the man said. "Man's gotta eat."
"... I don't know what to say," Azure said as he stared at the pile of cash. It was more money than he'd ever seen in his life, let alone than he'd ever seen in the farmhouse, and that included the emergency stash Mrs. Boison kept in one of the cookie jars on the upper shelves.
"Son, I ain't gonna mince words with you. You've got some amazing natural talent." He stretched his legs out, laying his mud-caked boots on one of the table legs with a loud thump. "You ever considered becoming a huntsman?" The man asked him.
Azure shook his head mutely. "Until last night I … I never did any of that stuff. Handling dust. Doing … whatever it was that happened. I just worked with the animals and tended the fields."
"It felt good though, didn't it?" The man asked. "Making a stand, protecting your folks and the farm? Proving to the grimm they can't have everything they want?"
"I did what I did to keep my family safe. People have been trying to take our farm from us for years. Last night, I think I found out why. It … was last night, wasn't it?"
The man only nodded silently, motioning for Azure to continue. Boision perked up as well, the interest clearly evident on his face.
"Dad, when I was fighting that grimm, its arrows almost hit me. I took cover behind the old boulder out in the pastures. The cover didn't last long, but when it split the boulder, there was a whole heap of dust inside, fully crystallized and everything. Ma, Dad … I think we're sitting on top of a dust mine."
"That's why they were so explicit about trying to get the mineral rights," Boison said as he snapped his fingers. "This land's gotta be worth a fortune."
"Well, this seems like a conversation best kept between family," Crimson said as he lifted his hat and placed it on his head before getting to his feet. He reattached his gun belt with well practiced ease. "Now son, if you should ever feel like fighting grimm, seeing the sights, or even just working on those newfangled abilities of yours–" he produced a card and offered it to Azure. "–Phone this number and tell the man who answers that Crimson Jim told you to call. He can help you get started." He held up a hand as Azure opened his mouth to speak while moving to hand the card back. "Don't make any decisions now. Think on it. Talk about it with your family. Never rush when the decision's something like this." He tilted his hat at Boison, and then at . "Much obliged for the coffee, Ma'am, and the donuts. They were almost as good as my mamma used to make 'em." He smiled ruefully. "You folks have yourselves a nice day."
Without another word he was gone and out the door. Azure didn't even quite remember him leaving, just the slam of the door and the red figure vanishing on the horizon. He looked more closely over the card. "... Taiyang Xiao Long? What kind of a name is that?"