Updated 11/28/2018
Another one bites the dust, huh? Another corpse to toss in the ground, cold, old, forgotten. Another round in the chamber, stacked up one after the other in menacing order- better than wasting away idle. Flash! Bang! A scream: "USE ME"!
"Over here! Quickly!" An orange glow pierces the primordial darkness, porous limestone walls drinking in the echoes of a sound long since forgotten. "Come on! There's a cave, they won't be able to reach us in here!"
Flame enters first, followed by a leather-coated arm as the armored man squeezes himself sideways through the crag, jagged rock carving deep scratches into his breastplate.
They go unnoticed alongside the ones already there.
"One at a time! It opens up in here!" Boots slosh through puddles as he stumbles gracelessly into the open space. He turns back as another arm gropes aimlessly out of the cranny, latches on and pulls with deliberate urgency.
Like a chain passed through the eye of a needle, somehow, one by one bodies spill into the surprisingly large cavern and uncoil in the room provided, groaning from the stress.
"Damn those monsters!" The single torch does nothing to illuminate the speaker, only showing the sunken eyes and hollow faces of the survivors who are too weary to even contemplate anger.
"How many do we have?" Artificial light reveals a baker's dozen, young and old, bearded and clean-shaven faces all looking away from the fire and all with something dark caked over them to obscure the disillusionment underneath. Sopping wet hair hangs their heads low in defeat as they lean against the moist rock of the cavern.
"That's all?" The bearded man with the torch whispers to himself, not allowing his own defeat to permeate in that enclosed space. "What about supplies? What do we have left?"
Quiet searching reveals little: a few skeins of wine, a dozen parcels of jerky, a few pocketfulls of corn and another pitch-soaked stave which they quickly relight. At least they will not have to worry about water, if the roaring deluge outside the cave is any indication.
Even as this he thinks this, another kind of roar penetrates their stony shelter and sends shivers up through the floors and into their spines.
"Don't worry about it, there is no way they can reach us." Though he does worry, knowing that this assurance will do little if those ravenous creatures decide otherwise. And the survivors of their caravan each know this, so he wonders why he even bothers.
"This cave extends quite some ways. I'm going to see if there is another entrance."
He does so because he must keep up the appearance of strength, even if it is all an act and his own hope died with his wife many years ago. The monsters will win, as they always have.
Nodding to the other torchbearer, he sets off down the passageway, the rattling of his plate armor slowly disappearing into the darkness and the warmth of the flame snuffed out by the damp coldness.
What starts out as a cathedral-like ceiling quickly descends into little more than a tunnel. First he stoops, then gets on all fours, finally crawling, dragging himself on his armored stomach with torch clasped precariously in his mouth. It seems little hope that there is an alternative pathway out, and that if it comes to it, this place will be their tomb. But he remembers the almost invisible entrance to the complex, and so presses on with that modicum of hope in mind.
At last, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
The way in had been gradual, cavernous mouth swallowing the group up. Now he himself pushed further into the knotted bowls of the earth. Emergence was all at once, abruptly spitting him out into another open space.
Although, covered from head to toe in brown and feeling distinctly ragged and filthy, he was more tempted to think that he had come out the other end.
Having long since swallowed his dignity the moment he resigned his purple cowl and declared himself his own man, the first in the Arc line, he stood up without another moment's hesitation and surveyed the chamber he found himself in.
While not the exit he had perhaps hoped for, what he discovered was beyond his wildest dreams.
Dull limestone had given way to a pantheon of color as his torchlight danced and sparkled in a million crystal faces. Each step he took shifted that kaleidoscope into a dizzying swirl, pleochroic light winking sultrily at him and begging him to lie down beside it, underneath that eternal rainbow.
It was only his awe and curiosity which kept him moving forward, shuffling steps deadened by the whispers of the stone calling out to him. It wasn't long until he noticed that there was an internal brilliance to these rocks. His torch seemed so dull in comparison that it fell by his heels as he trekked ever deeper.
The gentle whispers became a hum, the hum became a drone, the drone a din, and finally he recognized one above the others calling out to him from the far wall. Trying to fight it with that same strength he had shown previously proved useless as its pull was too incessant, overshadowing his resigned sense of duty.
He fell to his knees in front of that wall, a singularly large hexagonal crystal facing out towards him like a finger which he was already wrapped around. Trembling hands reached out to touch that perfect termination, to caress that surface which seemed to be made of living flame. Licking his lips in anticipation, suddenly realizing that he was no longer cold but hot, sweating underneath his armor and buff-coat the closer he got to that jewel of his eye. Already accepting that it wasn't his- would never be his, and trying to take it for himself would get him burned.
It would be worth it.
A bead of sweat dropped from his palm onto the gem, sending an electric flash across that tenuous connection. His arm jerked back automatically, even as his mind processed the image which had been sent to it during that instant.
Flame, hot, burning, churning, earth, magma, heat, sweet, energy, restrained, contained, untamed…
And a face.
Not just a face, but hair, the same color of that magma. Eyes, an eye, the same verdant green as his wife's…
Lips, the color of blood.
A sound on them, a word, a message:
"Hello there, Big Boy."
"Now, can anyone inform the class how Dust is formed?" A hand shot up from the front row, but the face shrouded by bushy eyebrows passed it over as it looked for another that was not forthcoming. "Hmm… Ah! Yes, who else but Ms. Schnee? Go ahead."
The hand retreated behind her back as the girl shot to her feet, the other one reaching up to loosen her stiff, high collar which suddenly felt way too tight.
"Sir! Um, yes, there are many theories on how Dust crystals are formed. Current thought has it that Dust behaves like many other resources and is influenced by the environments in which they are found. Like other mineral ores, chemicals are transported via fluid and precipitated through porous rock or cracks. Released from the surrounding pressure, they are then deposited in open spaces where the crystal lattice has room to grow and develop.
"Of course, this does not explain why modern analytical methods cannot determine the composition, even when using x-ray spectroscopy or refractometry. The molecular geometries of Dust remain a mystery, and no experts can agree on what controls their properties because the elements themselves seem to confuse the equipment. Some scholars theorize that the binding energy between the atoms is actually-"
"Yes, yes, thank you Ms. Schnee. But this is a history class, do try to leave a little bit of mystery for professor Rosenrot's lessons, hm? I'm sure he wouldn't be too happy about a student trying to usurp his new position."
"Yes sir!" Snapping a salute to hide her blush, the white-haired girl sat back down in her seat. Her hands remaining in her lap after straightening the hem of her tunic. There they would stay for the rest of the class.
"Now then, the part I wanted to establish is the fact that Dust is found primarily underground, which makes it particularly difficult to get to. It is presumed that the first discoveries were accidental, stumbling upon easily accessible deposits in caves and pockets exposed by erosion. However, later tribes and villages found Dust so useful that they actively sought out places to mine. Going so far as to band together, cease their nomadic ways and settle into permanent locations.
"From this humble beginning, whole economies were soon developed around exploiting this veritable boon to humanity. The Kingdoms! All formed nearly at the same time, practically overnight historically speaking. And all of them got their start one way or another via Dust. As a resource, or as a weapon. Goes to show that humanity thinks alike, no? Of course, it wasn't long after this that the first Dust-related conflict started…"
The droning of the professor soon turned into a buzzing noise, which she realized was actually a buzzing on her thigh. Surreptitiously, she slid the phone out of her pocket to take a look at the incoming message. The attached picture brought a smile to her face as she looked into the slightly grainy face of her new baby brother, swaddled in a light-blue terrycloth and held aloft in the arms of what could only be her father.
'The heir is born.' The caption read, and she had to stifle a giggle comparing it to the overwhelmed expression on the newborn's face, as if he already knew the challenges he was about to face in this fresh world.
She nearly dropped the rollout-phone as another buzz threatened to shake it from her hand, but she caught it again before it hit the floor. A new text.
'The mother did not survive.'
"…Now, can anyone tell me the origins of the most infamous family to come out of this so-called 'Dust-Boom'? Anyone? How about Ms. Schnee, you should know all about this. Ms. Schnee? Hello? Winter? Is that an E-scroll I see in class…?"
The electric lights powered by Dust buzzed loudly in her ears, like a swarm of beetles that were crawling all over her, and she felt like the world was watching her with millions of beady, black eyes- expressionless behind a face of apathy.
There was an awkward silence which permeated the air between father and daughter as they made their way to the docks. After the initial shock of being accepted into the premier huntsman academy wore off (heck, she hadn't even applied! Thinking she'd have to slog out at least another two years at the junior academy, Signal), she was made to realize the foolishness of what she'd done the previous night (even if it did get her into said academy). A fact the man walking next to her would surely point out to her sooner or later, along with an accompanying lecture and appropriate punishment. The worst of which he could do would be to to bar her from sweets, but that could not last two weeks anyway before she was shipped off to Beacon academy to be on her own.
Well, not entirely on her own, as her sister had actually formerly applied and was accepted into said school. But Yang wouldn't be so cruel to her baby sister- would she?
Sweating under these thoughts and the imaginary scolding from her dad kept her from paying attention to where they were going until a piece of glass crunched under her foot. She immediately stopped at this noise, looking up from her daydream to see that the path they had chosen from the police station lead back past the same shop she had patronized last night. The very place which had started this whole adventure.
Outside on the curb, the old man who presumably owned the shop was languidly sweeping up the remnant shards, minus the one she had crushed into fine powder. Without thinking, she bent down and started picking up some of the larger fragments, placing them carefully into the palm of her hand and working her way slowly down the street.
"The ferry leaves in 30 minutes, Ruby." The voice of her father reminded her patiently, but she was not to get up from her stoop until she had a complete handful.
"Maybe we can get the next one?"
Dumping the dangerous trash into the same bin the old man was working on, wordlessly he gave her an appreciative nod before she turned back to plead with her father. In doing so, she missed the pride-filled look he gave her back, only catching the one of amusement as she adopted her dreaded 'Puppy-Dog Eyes'.
"Oh, alright."
The next forty minutes were spent combing up the loose piece of debris and dumping them, followed by scouring the immediate area for any merchandise that was dropped during the heist and not noticed by the police while the curiously spry old man reset the shelves inside his shop.
So far, she had collected about three pocketfulls of raw Dust crystals. And, one oddly intact jar of ice-dust powder that was sitting amongst an anthill of its broken brethren. Thankfully, her father stepped in to help clean up the potential hazard.
It was astonishing how far some of the crystals had wandered, and she wondered if she hadn't been at least partially responsible for the dissemination when she tossed the thieving goons around like water balloons.
Peeking underneath a mailbox on the far side of the street brought an unexpected shock, as a brilliant orange crystal the size of a finger flashed out at her.
"Woooah…"
Stunned that such an out-of-the-way shop would have such an impressive specimen. The others she'd picked up, while admittedly dinged and scuffed from being manhandled, were of a far inferior quality compared to this one. By no means a connoisseur of Dust, nevertheless such a crystal she'd never born witness to before, even that one time her dad took her and her sister to the Vale National Museum when the Schnee Family Collection was put out on a traveling display.
It was also incredible how anyone could have missed it, even one of the many passersby on that busy thoroughfare might have spied it and been tempted to squirrel it away. Never mind thoughts of morality, one would have to be a fool not to at least consider pocketing it when it was just laying there for the taking.
Of course, she was much too righteous to entertain such ideas- even if the butterscotch orange color seemed to be calling to her… she would be satisfied with just being able to hold it for a while until she returned it to its rightful owner.
Next time she was in Vale, of course.
When she tried to reach for it though, she realized one potential reason why it had stayed where it was. The mailbox was abnormally large, for packages and such she assumed, and that Dust crystal had rolled so far underneath that no one under six-foot could possibly have arms long enough to reach it. To say nothing of her measly 5'2" (She was only fifteen, she was still growing, darnit!).
Luckily, she had something the others likely didn't.
"Got it!"
Retracting her scythe as she cried in triumph, she made sure not to celebrate until the amber-colored gemstone had rolled clear onto the sidewalk and knocked up against her boot. Reaching down carefully, as if she might scare it and send it back into hiding, she plucked it from the concrete and quickly pressed it to her chest to prevent it from escaping.
"Oh, wow!"
This action caused a wave of warmth to spread throughout her body, radiating outward from her bosom and down to the tips of her toes, tingles jumping along her nerves and cascading off her skin like sparks. When she remembered to breath it was like it was the first breath she'd ever taken, like standing on the highest mountain in Patch after spending a week breathing in exhaust fumes.
She felt…alive!
"Hey!"
Startled, she nearly dropped her prize and whirled around to face her accoster.
"I just found it! I wasn't going to take it, promise!"
But there was no one there. Just the pedestrian traffic on either side of the street who heard her and glanced at her dubiously. But distracted as they were, they quickly hurried about their own business as the day began warming up once more.
"Okay, better return this." Obviously, her guilty conscience was catching up to her- and she hadn't technically stolen it! (yet).
"No, wait! I don't want to go back!"
She jumped again, this time in the middle of the street as she stopped and clutched her heart, cars honked at her to get out of the way.
"Sorry!" Apologizing, she crossed the remaining distance and dashed over to the other curb using her Semblance, the tires ruthlessly crushing the rose petals she left behind in her wake.
"Alright, that's it, I need to return this and go get some sleep." The thwarted robbery had occurred late at night with the police inquiry immediately following. Then the headmaster of Beacon academy magically appeared personally to deliver cookies and bail her out (she honestly didn't know which was better). Between it all, there had been no time to catch any of her required eight-hours of rest.
"Or you could just head on home. No one would ever need to know."
"No! Bad Ruby." She chastised herself. "Stupid, evil little thing, making me think wicked ideas." Glaring down at the crystalline culprit which she believed was leading her into temptation.
"What?! I'm not evil! Wicked-cool, maybe… but not evil!"
"W-wait…" Reluctantly drawing the crystal from her chest and holding it at arm's length, she looked into its semi-translucent face as if trying to see something trapped in the amber color. "Are you… talking to me?" She asked tentatively and in a low whisper, hoping that no one overheard and thought her crazy.
"Well duh, who else would I be talking to?"
"But- I mean, you're talking!" She immediately covered her mouth with the unoccupied hand when realizing she shouted again. "Dust doesn't do that!" She whispered harshly to the object in hand.
"As far as you know. How many Dust crystals have you held?"
Opening her mouth to reply revealed her ignorance. The only Dust she'd personally examined had been pre-ground, or already molded into cartridges. Thinking about it, true crystalline Dust had always been outside her budget, even the tiny ones.
"Umm… not many" She declared hesitantly.
"Liar." She winced at how easily the voice sussed her out.
"Okay, well you'd be my first but- hey, wait! Why am I even talking to you, this is crazy!"
"You have flying busses, robot soldiers, transformable weapons, magic, oh, and carry a giant scythe twice as big as you. Is this really that crazy?"
Rather than answer, she looked around surreptitiously to see if someone wasn't laughing in the background (probably her sister) for having fooled her with such an elaborate prank.
"Nope. Pranking is my job. Only one allowed to prank you from now on is me."
"What?! Hang on a minute, what do you mean by that?" Though she had a sinking feeling she already knew.
"You're pretty slow, huh?" She sputtered a protest which to the people around might have looked like a seizure. "Although, I guess I can't complain, seeing as I wasn't too bright in my day. Especially in social scenarios…"
"Please," Ruby begged. "I'm totally confused. This- this is all just too much to take in right now, can you just tell me what's going on?"
"Oh, yeah, sure." The voice, rather the crystal, replied with a chuckle which seemed to vibrate in her hand. "Sorry about that. See, I've kind of 'chosen' you to take me. It gets rather boring just sitting around in a shop, ya know? The old man is nice, but he's put such a high price tag on me that no one who comes into this part of town can afford it. Well, not unless you were to rip him off, like those guys tried to last night. I saw the way you handled them, you're not bad. Plus, you saved me from becoming a toy for a stray cat. I'd be happy to tag along with you for a little while and see where it goes."
"But, I-I can't just take you!"
"Why not? I give my consent. It's not like you'd be owning me. We'd be partners."
"Partners?" She asked with growing incredulity but also strangely enough, acceptance.
"Yeah. I am pretty powerful you know. Just, can't do much on my own these days…"
In a way, she thought she could sympathize with the voice. Clearly it was intelligent, but trapped as it was in that form there was nothing it could do for itself. Perhaps she should…
"No, no, no, this is mad, this is crazy, I'm going crazy…" Turning on her heel, she began to pace back and forth on the sidewalk.
"Ruby?"
"Eep!"
Spinning around once again, she nearly ran face-first into her father who was carrying a paper cup of coffee in each hand with the label for 'Greg's Dregs' nearly covered up. After recovering from the near-catastrophe, he looked from the two covered containers down to his daughter who was standing primly on her heels with both hands clasped neatly behind her back. An image of innocence that normally he would associate with her having done something wrong… but seeing as he'd yet to have his coffee, he didn't care.
"Sorry," He apologized, handing her the second cup which from the smell turned out to be hot-chocolate. "I see you're pacing, if I had known you'd be done by now, I wouldn't have stopped for coffee."
"S'alright." She said, face hidden behind the plastic lid. "I still need to return the crystals I picked up, and then we can go."
Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the old man and fishing the found items she'd stashed in her pocket with her one free hand. The other still clasped around both the talkative orange crystal and her cocoa.
Taking the items again with a silent nod of appreciation, the man, hunched over with age, turned back to put the items into the display which was almost fixed apart from the glass. From the look of it, almost everything had been returned, a fact which brought a smile to her face knowing she had helped someone in need.
This was quickly lost as she noticed the obviously blank spot in the middle of the counter, a velvet cushion with a conspicuous indent still sitting there, waiting.
With a frown now in place, she turned back to the old man climbing down from his ladder and opened her mouth to speak. Before she could, the crystal sandwiched between palm and liquid began vibrating agitatedly.
Taking a moment to see to this distraction, lest she spill her precious cocoa all over the recently swept floor, the old man had enough time to step down and see what she was about.
"Um, I just wanted to say-"
A strange, knowing look accosted her, smoothing over the man's face. It took a moment to realize he was smiling at her behind that crumpled sheet of wrinkles. A deliberate nod which seemed to mean more than a simple thanks was the only other acknowledgment he gave, and she found herself mimicking the gesture before blinking and appearing next to her father once more.
"See? Told you the old guy was cool."
"Ready to go?"
"Y-yeah." She said, still unsure of herself for just walking off like that, and about the whole thing in general. Honestly, so many strange things had happened to her in the last 24-hours that she was sure Beacon would be the least of her worries.
"Probably." The voice admitted with what almost felt like a grin. "But this'll be fun. You'll see. I haven't had an adventure like this in centuries!"
"Wait, so this has happened before?" She asked in a whisper laced with disbelief, both for herself and the surreal experience.
"Hm? Oh, no, not exactly. I wasn't always like this, see?"
"You mean… you were a person?"
"Yeah! Sorry, I guess I didn't mention that, huh? We never got introduced. I'm Naruto Uzumaki, former ninja of Konohagakure no Sato, Toad Sage, and Jinchῡriki for the Kyῡbi no Kitsune! And I probably should have mentioned this earlier as well, but like all Dust, technically I'm dead."
This time, there was nothing keeping her from dropping the cup which was in her hand, thankfully the crystal- Naruto managed to stick to her palm as the paperware exploded in a lahar of sticky, brown liquid, not unlike how she wished the Earth would open up and swallow her whole right about now.
"Nice to meet you, Ruby- I mean, Partner!"
So… yeah. This happened.
Honestly, I have no idea where I'm going with this (and likely not anywhere for a while). Unlike my other fics, this one I do not promise to complete (doesn't mean I won't try). This was literally just a: "Oh hey, here's this pretty funny idea that I think I and do something with, let me write it down before it goes the way of all the other stuff in my head like different species of sharks and calculus." . Basically, this is just something to get my creative juices going again. And the fact that it actually has relevance for the geology degree I'm aspiring for doesn't hurt.
Basically: Dust is energy. Like Oil. Both are fossil fuels, meaning that not only are they limited resources, but they are made from something that was once alive (Which is like all carbonate rocks, BTW, not just petroleum). So yes, the world of Naruto is the past of Remnant, but they didn't exactly survive in the way one might think. So the question is: why are they talking? How? Winter actually hinted a little bit to this but you'd have to probably be a physicist (or read a lot of sci-fi) to guess. Rosenrot is a reference but also probably a red-herring, referring to the Einstein-Rosen bridge (rosenrot means Rose-red in German, just FYI).
Can anyone guess the other two I've introduced so far from Naruto's world? Does anyone even care? I just ask to see if I've made it obvious enough, or if it's just a little too subtle.
Anyway, back to something a handful of people actually seem to care about. Let's see if I can finish before I become a rock. Sayōnara.