TALE OF THE MIRAGE
FOREWORD
Why am I posting this on someone else's account?
Because notifications are a bitch and this account's owner reads them more than I do.
-Ancient Fanfiction Proverb, by Author, [redacted]
Double FOREWORD
Apparently, one of my friends decided to make this, which is a prequel to a RWBY fic that I might do in the future, as a Kitsune faunus SI.
(Send help, he's locked me in the basement, Zelretch is an accomplice!)
-Jackie Avocado, memelord, professional bottom
PROLOGUE
Vacuo
Unknown Rural Province
Twelve Years Before the Fall of Beacon
"You're sure?" The Huntress squinted at him.
The boy's tear-streaked face was dusty. His eyes seemed hollow, disbelieving, gazing downward. But nonetheless, these words did register. He nodded.
He didn't seem to be lying. The Huntress sighed. She decided not to push him. His psyche rather seemed like an object made of thin glass on a pedestal.
If she shook the pedestal, she got a feeling that glass would end up shattering and cut someone in the process.
She turned away. Still, she didn't know what to make of the situation.
According to witnesses, the abusive ex of the boy's father had come and killed both of his parents. It was a situation straight out of some horror drama. But the strange part was that the ex had searched the entire house, yet could not find the boy. Granted, she was rushed to finish the job before witnesses reported or the law enforcement arrived. It was assumed that the had wisely run away. They'd said he was sharp for his age. They'd said his instincts were seldom wrong.
But upon returning to the crime scene the next day, they found him, on his knees, in shock, in the center of the floor. Rushing him to his feet, they made sure he was alright, even if he was unresponsive.
That's when the mystery started.
No witnesses from outside had seen him exit. So he'd never left. Maybe he'd hidden?
But it didn't end there.
Once he was on his feet, they examined the floorboards.
He hadn't moved since the stabbing.
So how was it there was a splatter of dried blood under his legs when he wasn't even wounded? How could the splatter of blood have gotten under his body from the other side of the room?
So when the Huntress who would soon be the boy's adoptive parent asked if the boy was sure he hadn't moved, the case was left as a mystery, only to be mused about by the detectives to no avail. At least, though, the more important matter of detaining the abusive, psychotic ex was accomplished.
No more than four days later, that ex was found with her lungs full of blood and a hole in her back, face down on her cot. A clean displacement of flesh and bone that had happened while she'd slept. She had drowned in her own wretched lymph.
No one had entered or exited the cell.
And so the mystery continued...
Vacuo
Unknown Rural Province
Approximately Two Years Before the Fall of Beacon
He'd already lost his family once.
Now he was going to lose his family all over again.
So many had failed to bring her to death's door, but where countless skilled assassins and warriors had failed...
...terminal illness #4 would drag her across the precipice.
The young man gritted his teeth. He clenched his fists. His adoptive mother had been nothing but kind to him since that night. She'd raised him as her own. She'd taught him everything he knew.
She'd told him that he'd been a blessing to her. She'd wanted a child, she said, but she was destined to never bear children.
He held her hand at her bedside as she struggled to breathe in her sleep. It had been two weeks since the ailment had truly visibly emerged. It was getting worse and worse with each passing day.
"I've seen one mother buried," he wept helplessly. "Why doesn't it hurt any less the second time?"
"Silly..." She coughed weakly, trying for a smile. "Pain is...pain...didn't I teach you...that...?"
"Mom!" He bolted up, and kept her hand tight in his own. "Those specialists from Atlas said they were coming to examine you! You're important to so many people, they're trying to help! Just a little longer!"
"My child..." Selene's smile faded. Tears welled in her eyes. "Please...don't make this harder than it has to be..."
He stopped dead in his tracks. His heart felt cold.
"What are you saying?"
"They may have a cure..." she rasped. "They may...not. And even if they...do...we may not...be able to afford it..."
"No, Mom, I don't care. Whatever it takes, I'll do it."
"That's what I'm afraid...of." Selene's eyes closed. "That night...you didn't lie to me...when you said you didn't...move."
The boy was silent.
"Tell me the truth..." Selene's eyes opened again, and looked into her child's eyes. Once again hollow and in despair.
"Did you...kill the murderer?"
Again, silence.
"No."
Selene studied her child's face. Once again, tear-streaked. Once again, dusty. Once again, grieving. Just like it was ten years ago.
But there was no truth in his answer this time.
She closed her eyes quietly.
"Are you Selene's boy?" A neutral male voice addressed the grieving Huntsman-in-training.
"...yes." He responded, not turning around.
"We're going to need you to leave this room while we examine her," his assistant, a shorter woman with Atlas regalia on, ordered.
Lacking the strength to argue, Selene's beloved child left the room without another word.
It felt like an eternity that he was away from her side. And every second of it, he regretted his answer. For all he knew, his last word to her was now an empty lie.
Finally, the Atlas specialists emerged. They handed their client a copy of their diagnosis.
His hopes sank as he realized what this meant.
The disease, in short, was curable. The catch? It was improbable that they could assemble the proper funds, but still tantalizingly possible.
Yet, Atlas wouldn't help. As great as she was...to them, she was just another Huntress. And not even one from the same Kingdom.
They could always get another.
But he knew he wasn't out of options.
He wanted revenge, once, a long time ago. He knew they wouldn't allow it. No one would let him.
Didn't stop him from pulling out that monster of a woman's left lung and watching sickly red liquid fill the cavity while she flailed limply. Watching the struggle subside silently.
He just had to take matters into his own hands.
As the Atlas specialists departed from the town, he watched them leave through the back door of his small house. Once they were out of sight, he cast one last glance at Selene as she slept. He breathed in, and out, and made his promise to himself.
He would do whatever it took.
That's what his enemies would become afraid of.