Author's note:
Soooo, with the finale of Volume 3, I can truly say I'm stoked for what the crew at RoosterTeeth will bring to the table of Volume 4.
Despite the tragedy that has occurred, I find myself wanting to see how the story progresses from here, how our characters will cope with their losses and start moving forward and be the badasses they were. I like how the story is going, building on the trials that our favourite characters must now face despite it being probably too early for them.
But enough rambling. With what has just happened, I found myself wanting to write a fic with relations to the messages of Volume 3. On a side note, I had also played finish some months ago Starcraft 2: Legacy of the Void, which finally brings to end the saga I've been following for almost 10 years now. I admit that the introduction of Alarak and the Tal'darim was something else, with his rather, interesting views on the universe making him quite the character I soon grew attached with.
And thanks to that, this fic came to mind, and I like how my OC developed shortly upon the basis of Volume 3's finale and one of my favourite video games. Through this fic, I wanted her to truly test the beliefs of our Huntsmen and Huntresses in training and I can only hope it goes well.
Prologue:
The water remained still within the rocky basin it collected in with the exception of the constant ripples resulting from the dripping of water from the stalactites above. Save from the 'plinks' of water spilling upon water, the cavern was filled with a deafening silence.
The silence was broken when a lone figure rose from the water, the water dripping of her skin and hair causing a myriad of splashing sounds to echo through the cavern. The woman ran her hands through her brown locks, squeezing the water from them. She strode to the edge of the pool and climbed out, reaching for a towel that lay upon a lone rock.
She was quite a beautiful individual. Despite having toned arms and legs, there was an unrivalled symmetry in her body's natural curves and slender figure. Any man would have been enraptured by the mere sight of her. Or at least, they could have been.
The one minus that the woman did have was the numerous scars running along her body. Wounds from battles long past racked upon her flesh, leaving ugly serrated marks upon her fair skin. Anyone would have been repulsed by such a scene.
The woman paid it no mind. To her, the scars weren't blemishes. They were badges; medals of honour. Let them think what they will. She thought. They know not their true meaning.
A small crunching sound came from behind, yet she didn't turn. She didn't care who it would be to come see her like this, as long as she knew someone would be here now. Slowly, she wrapped the towel around herself and turned to face her visitor.
"Lady Vanessa." The man bowed as soon as he met her gaze.
"Speak." She replied.
"You have been summoned milady." The man reported. "All the Deathblades have."
Vanessa frowned. The only one who could command the elite of their order was the Maester himself. As such, she could not disobey. "Very well. Let him know that I will arrive shortly." The man hurriedly left to relay her instructions as she resumed clothing herself. When she had finished putting on her clothes and boots, she reached down for the leather coat; black and decorated with scarlet marks, that hung on one of the stalagmites. As a finishing touch, she pulled out a scarlet red ribbon and tied her hair up into a ponytail.
Then, as soon as she had picked up her weapon, she left for the call of the Maester.
Vanessa stalked through the dusty wasteland, the greying clouds looming across the landscape and casting shadows upon the entirety of the earth. In her mind, this was the most desolate place in all of Remnant. But that was of no concern to her. She had abandoned luxury long ago.
Something rustled in the bushes to her right. She turned as a Creep lunged out of the undergrowth, diving straight at her. Instantly, she crouched low, the Grimm now passing overhead. In the blink of an eye, she removed her weapon from her back. The dual-bladed scythe extended as she swung upwards, bisecting the small creature and feeling its blood rain down upon her as it died. She twirled her weapon, shifting it back into its folded form before she continued walking. As she did, her tongue snaked out and licked the last drop of Grimm blood off her lips.
At last, Vanessa reached her destination, a small fort abandoned since who knew how long. Vanessa was greeted by two Ruin guards, who bowed as she approached. Not even bothering to acknowledge them, she descended the dark steps into the darkness below. For about fifteen whole minutes she walked, drinking in the gloom of the place.
As she reached her destination, she noticed that everyone else was already present.
"At last, the First of the Deathblades has arrived." Came the snide remark of a bulky man to her right.
"Hello Deathblade Giles." Vanessa nodded. "I see you are as impatient as ever."
"Silence woman!" Giles remarked. "Don't think you will enjoy that position forever. I've been training. Soon enough, I will declare Relinquishment upon you and see that your place is mine!"
"If you can survive me…" Vanessa replied coldly as she sat down. Giles merely snarled back at her, incensed at the fact she saw him as anything but a threat.
"Quiet you two." Came the voice of the figure to Vanessa's right, his hood obscuring his entire face. Just under Giles, Cameron was the Third ranked among the Deathblades. "Our Maester is about to speak."
Vanessa looked at the holographic projections of the other Deathblades. The Fourth Deathblade, Deslan, twiddled his thumbs in anticipation of the Maester's orders. To his left were the Fifth and Sixth Deathblades, Hanzo and Fiora. Vanessa saw them as powerful, but they had much to learn before they could think about facing her. Last were the Seventh and Eighth Deathblades, Nigel and Linus.
At once, the Maester appeared, a deathly mask covering his face. Vanessa could only make out the green eyes beneath the cast iron mask as he eyed the gathered Deathblades. If there was anything in Remnant she was truly curious about, it was how Maester Cyrus thought. She never did discern the many things that went through his mind. But that, she reasoned, was irrelevant.
"My Deathblades…" Maester Cyrus greeted them. At once, the Deathblades nodded. There was no need for propriety. Such things were lost to their order long ago. Only action, swift and merciless, was needed here.
"Our time has come. Since the Vytal festival, the kingdoms are weakened. Finally, we can begin the great Purge." Maester Cyrus proclaimed. "Our forces are ready. Our acolytes, the Ruin guard, our battalions of Devastators and Destroyers stand resolute. Soon, we shall change this world and bring it to an era of peace." The Deathblades applauded save for Cameron and Vanessa.
"But remember my Deathblades, patience." Maester Cyrus calmed them down. "I can feel your bubbling hatred and desire for vengeance, but only when tempered, reinforced with discipline and cunning can we hope to stand victorious. For now, begin your preparations and be ready to strike. Within a fortnight, the Purge begins!" Once more, the Deathblades applauded, but Vanessa remained as she was, eyeing Cyrus the whole while.
A clattering was heard. Everyone turned to see a balding man enter the chamber. "Maester, Deathblades! I am sorry to interrupt, but the Dark Hour approaches us!"
"I see." The Maester nodded. "Very well, we shall adjourn for now. We have vengeance that needs reaping." At once, the Deathblades stood up, those who were holographic projections faded away. Just as they prepared to leave, the Maester called.
"Vanessa, I require a moment of you."
The gathered Deathblades watched as Vanessa turned to the Maester. She could feel Giles's animosity toward her burning into her neck, but she disregarded it. The Maester had commanded her, no one was to interrupt or deny his order. She felt the rest of them leave. Soon, it was just the two of them.
"Is there something troubling you? I couldn't help but notice your rather bland reaction." The Maester crowed, eyeing her suspiciously. Vanessa retained her bland expression as she thought her answer.
"No Maester." Vanessa replied. "I found your speech very uplifting. I look forward to the dawn of the Purge."
"And why wouldn't you?" Cyrus said with approval. "The Purge shall bring peace. I believe it is a day to rejoice."
"It truly will be. I await with high spirits." Vanessa answered.
"Do you? And what will you do when the Purge has ended? What will your ambitions be?" The Maester growled as he paced around her.
"Maester?" Vanessa inquired, surprised at his question.
"Do not play games with me Vanessa. I know what you think." The Maester said, all pretense of calm and satisfaction gone, replaced with a tone that burned like acid. "I know what you are like. Back then, when you were a mere girl hiding under the skirts of Deathblade Rachel I saw that you had something the others did not have, could never hope to have. Do you know what it is Vanessa?"
Vanessa didn't respond. She was terribly focused on the irritating feeling that nibbled at the back of her mind. Why was Maester Cyrus bringing up such a story from so long past?
"The truth is you don't care about the Purge." Maester Cyrus continued. "You don't care about peace. All you care about is to kill the Grimm, to extract vengeance upon vengeance. The others' thirst greatly for revenge, for vengeance. But you, yours is boundless, insatiable. To you, peace is something you will never see, and will never attain."
"It is how I have lived this long Maester." Vanessa replied. "It is the only way I can ever live."
"So it would seem." The Maester agreed. "But remember this, my will is absolute. I lead this order and I will flog those who dare to prevent its designs from coming to fruition. I have not forgotten your tendency to disregard authority just so you can satisfy your lust to kill. Remember Vanessa, if your vengeance does anything to disrupt my plans, to ever sow discord among our order, I will see to your, permanent end. And I don't care if you are our best Huntress or not."
"I understand Maester." Vanessa replied as she stood up. She was certain that he had finished. At once, he turned his back on her, which was her cue to leave.
As she stepped out of the abandoned fort, she looked upon a battleground where her fellows were now engaged with a large pack of Beowolves. She meditated, remembering her training. Then she opened her eyes, remembering her past. And the hatred within her seethed, spilling out of her like a flood. The Grimm sensed it, howling as they charged for her.
Vanessa wasn't the most powerful of the Deathblades for being ruthless or brutal. She got here because she was cunning, resourceful, smart. She didn't start a losing fight, she was always careful. She kept herself disciplined and resolute. But that didn't mean she couldn't rely on such feelings when it counted.
There was one other thing that made her the greatest of the Deathblades. It was the depth of her bloodlust and wrath. It was her greatest weapon. No other member of their order thirsted for carnage like her. It was what made her fearsome. It was what made her strong.
Hatred didn't win battles for her, but she didn't win battles without it.
As the Grimm converged upon her, she drew her weapon, revelling in the carnage and death she would sow, and the insatiable vengeance she exacted.
Well, that's the beginning of this fic.
A simple heads-up, this story is going to focus greatly on ALL the Huntsmen and Huntresses that Volume 3 had introduced. This will thus be the second story I have introducing dialogues and viewpoints from many characters in the same setting, so if it becomes a bit much to swallow, I humbly apologise. Do let me know of any feedback you have regarding this and I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I have in writing it.
Yours Sincerely,
Jdbl00d
