Even late in the season winter clung, suffocating the land with its chilly embrace. The mountainous regions of the south once covered in forest green now stood stripped bare of color. A white canvas etched with rigid strokes of black for the naked trees. Spotting any kind of wildlife was a rare thing these days. Most if not hibernating in whatever den they claimed for themselves have long since migrated north where the warmth of civilization provided some comfort. This far south on the coast of Anima there was no such thing. No refuge to take shelter in. Only the snow and what one could make for themselves.
Any form of life that lingered in these parts were either lost or adaptable. Kiera convinced herself she was the latter.
The coast wasn't far. Another mile or so. The wind carried with it the scent of the ocean. It has been many years since Kiera last caught whiff of such a smell. Her senses though were keen and memorable. She could recognize a scent sometimes miles off and pinpoint exactly where she knew it from. Even when breathing through her blue bandana, which remained tied across her face, trapping the heat of every breath so that is remained hot against her cheeks. A cold winter. The coldest Kiera's ever experienced and yet, she felt little of it. Snow crunching beneath her boots, she marched on.
Kiera kept her hands buried in her coat pockets, one of which clenched tightly around her scroll. The battery had long since been depleted, but it no longer mattered. Even in its current state she recognized the land. Parts of it anyway. Enough to guide her. Old paths. Familiar hunting treks. A peculiar rockface. The years have done little to dull her memory. Those days of roaming freedom were never far from her thoughts. Even now, all she had to do was close her eyes and let her mind slip.
The snow melted away. Tall grasses waved in the soft breeze, tickling her feet as she went. Budding leaves of orange and yellow hues sprouted from tree branches. The stars above were infinite in the onyx sky. The environment painted itself to life around her in a mixture of swirls and strokes. Kiera walked through the jungle of her mind, drawn by the sound of rushing water.
A mist shimmered around the basin forming a sort of barrier in which Kiera had to push through. When the mist cleared she found a pond feeding into a nearby stream. The water ran so clear it acted as a mirror to the night sky. Pitch black, yet speckled with light.
Overcome with a surge of anxiety, Kiera halted at the pond's precipice. These waters were nowhere in her collection of memories. She had never laid eyes upon them before and yet, she felt strangely at home as if she'd been here all her life. How could these unfamiliar waters strike such a chord within her? Her body moved on its own, answering the water's beckoning call. Kiera fought against whatever will compelled her forward, making the casual three steps to the pond a struggling journey.
This place and these feelings were not her own. How could they be? It was as if she wandered lost into someone else's dream and now shared their skin, possibly even their mind for she knew its desire as if it were her own. Whatever dream she found herself in had a dreamer and he wanted to show her something.
By the time they reached the pond Kiera had stopped resisting completely. A surrender to futility more than curiosity. Kiera stared down at her reflection in the water. A pair of yellow eyes glared back, simmering in their harsh regard. The details of the beast's face-of her face, were almost impossible to perceive in the night. It's as if she were molded out of darkness. Yet by some miracle she could make out the whiskered snout, short rounded ears, and lean shape of a panther. Kiera tried to turn away, but she remained ensnared by her own feral reflection.
The panther growled, angered by her desire to flee. Close by came the flapping of wings followed by a bird's high-pitched caw. The water rippled into disarray and Kiera opened her eyes.
A whistling hum vibrated the air, disturbing the peace of her thoughts.
Once more she trudged through the snow. Kiera had nodded off without even intending to. She'd done it before. Her mind would rest but her feet would keep going. As if in a trance. It was never sleep that found her, but it was close enough. She swam in the pool of her memories only this time the waters were not her own. Her panther dream remained lingering in her mind despite her immediate dismissal as if the beast were still with her, only this time looking through her eyes. The notion discomforted Kiera a great deal, but there were other distractions to chew on.
A heavy wind rushed past her. Bucket's baton, Nameless, which remained at her hip, whistled its jarring tune in response. That alone told Kiera what her bleary eyes needed adjusting to see. The trees were dwindling, allowing the heavier winds to pass by. The shore was just up ahead. Kiera wrapped Nameless in cloth as to better muffle its whistle. Sound traveled far in these parts and she didn't want to give any warnings of her arrival.
Another fifty feet and she could hear them. The murmur of voices, clang of metal, and cranking of chains. Kiera took cover in the snow topped brush along the coast's edge. Lying flat on her stomach, she crawled forward to peak out at the shore. Not a grain of sand was visible underneath the snow. Patches of broken up ice floated in the ocean water. With a shock she realized that most of the ocean for as far as she could see was frozen over. The broken bits formed a clear, well-traveled path from the ocean's horizon to the shore.
The thick layer of ice didn't stand a chance against the monstrosity of metal resting at the docks. The Sarke. A giant hunk of red and black steel the size of a Vulcan Industries factory. How it stayed afloat was a mystery in itself. Large drills were embedded into the Sarke's front like jaws. They chewed through any obstacle in its way. Whether it be ice or other ships, so they say.
Somehow, Kiera knew this ship. And not just from the descriptions given to her or the reputation behind it. She knew this ship personally. Though she couldn't recall a single memory of it, the sheer sight of the Sarke twisted her insides. Not a memory then, but a feeling. An overwhelming sense of nausea. Shivering in the cramped cold. The deceivingly sweet taste of salt water on her tongue. Kiera had to look away momentarily or risk being sick. When her stomach settled, she turned back to the docks.
The Sarke's crew looked busy loading large cargo containers onto the ship's deck with the help of a chain pulley system. Preparing then, for another trip to Menagerie. Winter was the best time to travel for the Sarke's black-market needs. While most vessels, merchant and military alike stayed home the Sarke carved its own private path across the ocean. This way it could go back and forth with little interruption from outside forces.
Amongst the crew, Kiera focused on one man in particular. The one barking commands to everyone else. Boris Alvred, the Sarke's notorious captain. The man was bald except for the edges of his head where ginger hair fell to his shoulders in greasy strands. The Sarke's captain was bedecked in patches of furs. Around his neck he wore a string of trophies from past hunts. A lynx's ear. A shark's tooth. And many more. None of which came from an animal.
Those faunus Kiera talked with back at the Quarry, the ones who knew about Dwain's friend, Boris Alvred, were all missing at least one part of their faunus characteristic. Now she knew why. Glaring at that gaudy display of trophies provoked a low growl from Kiera's soul.
Sudden hands gripped her ankles and dragged her out from underneath the brush. Kiera twisted, managing to pry one leg free, which she used to kick the lookout right in the nose. The man stumbled back and unholstered the gun at his hip. Kiera spun in a low kick, sweeping the man right off his feet. He crashed flat on his back, squeezing off a shot that embedded itself into a nearby tree trunk. Using the momentum of her spin Kiera propelled herself back onto her feet. Before the lookout could rise she acquainted his face with her fist. With that, he was out cold.
Already shouts of alarm were being hurled back and forth amongst the Sarke crew. Kiera had been careless to let someone sneak up on her like that. Her anger blinded her to such subtle threats. Though she supposed it didn't really matter. Stealth was never her strong suit.
Kiera let her travelers pack slip from her shoulders. The relief of its weight left her feeling as light as a snowflake. Next, she removed her coat. Her arms were bare except for skintight gloves that stretched up to her biceps. The sting of the cold was a fading numbness against her skin. Kiera arced her back and shrugged her shoulders, rousing weary muscles. The simple stretching resulted in a number of cracks and snaps as if her body were shedding a layer of ice. She pulled her blue bandana down from her face so that it hung around her neck. Her frosted breath hung in the air like a cloud before dispersing with the wind.
The panicked shouting from the coast ceased. Alvred's cry for order saw to that. With just a single spoken word his crew fell into line. They were ready to face whatever intruded on their secret dock and she was ready to face them.
No sense in delaying any further.
Kiera leaped over the brush. She slid down the dune, skidding to a stop when she reached the level ground of the snow-covered beach. Her sudden appearance surprised many amongst the crew. Their bewildered eyes tracked the panther tail protruding behind her. Boris Alvred eyed the tail with discomfiting greed.
"Who the fuck are you?" asked the Sarke crew member closest to her.
Kiera rushed him and before he could even react she kneed him in the gut. The man fell to his knees, the contents of his breakfast spewing out onto the snow. Kiera gave the slightest of pushes and the man toppled face first into his own vomit. Some of the Sarke crew seemed to take that personally. Their shock and confusion gave way to anger. They came at her, brandishing any weapons they had on them. Kiera charged head-on to meet them.
The first man Kiera sent flying back with a single kick to the sternum. Next, she ducked under a haphazard swing of a crowbar. She followed suit with a kick between the man's legs. The crowbar dropped to the ground. Its wielder waddled off, his eyes bulging and his cheeks quivering as if he were constipated. A woman stabbed at her with a bowie knife, but Kiera grabbed her wrist and using her superior strength, redirected the blade into the man sneaking up behind her. The knife buried itself deep into the man's stomach. Without a care for the coworker she just stabbed, the woman wrenched the knife free and turned to resume her assault. Kiera kicked the blade from her hand before delivering another to the side of the woman's head. She toppled like a sock of potatoes.
Something whished through the air and Kiera dropped down just in time for a bola to pass over her head. The rest of the Sarke crew, the ones smart enough to arm themselves spread out across the beach. They formed a semicircle around Kiera. Their wrists twirled with an assortment of bolas. Weapons designed to incapacitate and maim, but not kill. They meant to capture her. After all, she was a faunus. A potential prize.
Fools. A hunter's tools do little for him when he is the prey.
Amongst the surrounding faces Kiera did not spot Boris Alvred. Where was the coward? Hiding behind his crew? No matter. She'll go through them to get to him. Its what she intended to begin with. Kiera dashed into the middle of them. Something that visibly shocked the Sarke crew. She leaped, twisting her body midair. The bola below her passed an inch away from her drooping knee while the one equipped with sawblades above her, sliced off a lock of curly black hair. She collided with her target, tackling him to the ground. A quick succession of punches to the chest was enough to incapacitate him. Kiera darted through their ranks, dispatching them with swift and sure kicks.
They were sloppy close quarters combatants. No doubt they were used to chasing their pray from a distance. Their bolas made for cumbersome melee weapons. Even the ones thrown her way more often than not ensnared their fellow crewmembers while those that did make contact with Kiera merely grazed her. Not enough to break through her aura. Kiera's assault did not slow in the least. A rage came over her like a red mist, dulling any sense of weariness. The ferocity of her attacks grew with every steel toed punt.
The Sarke crew fell one by one. Those that remained split apart, giving room for Boris Alvred. The Sarke Captain hefted a gun the size of a cannon. Kiera dashed out of the line of fire but the net shot at her enveloped too wide of a range for her to move out of in time.
Shit!
The rope net entangled Kiera, yanking her to the ground. She rolled in the snow, struggling to free herself of the net's hold. Yet, it wrapped about her body all the same. Boris Alvred flipped a switch on his gun and the net, which remained attached to the barrel it was shot out of, was recalled. It dragged Kiera through the snow like a fish on a hook, bringing her right to the Sarke Captain's feet.
"Hold still now." Said Alvred as he pressed a metal rod against her back.
Currents of electricity surged through Kiera's body. It moved like lightning in her veins, racing for her heart. She meant to scream but her mouth clamped shut. Her whole body after instinctively convulsing, went rigid. The electrocution lasted only a second or two, but by its end Kiera was left limp. Her body still, but her heart beating faster than she thought possible.
Faces of the remaining Sarke crew gathered around her. Kiera tried to lash out at them, but her body remained paralyzed.
Boris Alvred knelt down to better look at her, "Damn girl…Freaking me out with those witch eyes of yours. Look at you. Even now you're struggling. Ain't never seen a woman this mad before. Shit! So intense. Relax, I ain't gonna kill ya."
"We ain't?" asked another crewman with some displeasure, "After what she just did?"
"What she just did," said Alvred in a tone that silenced his subordinate, "was damned impressive. Unfortunately, that brings up another problem. You see, a faunus as impressive and feisty as yourself...Well now, that's a hard sell. People don't want to invite the risk. May have to chop of a foot or hand. Something to cripple you enough so that you're less dangerous. You understand I'm sure."
Kiera could only gnash her teethe in response.
Alvred leaned in close enough so that his breath was hot against her face. Kiera didn't shy away, but instead glared. Her restrained limbs twitched with little movement.
"Do I know you?" asked Alvred, "I mean, I haven't been exactly popular with the ladies recently, but it's the strangest thing. Have we met? Your eyes are singing me a familiar tune." Alvred jerked back, overcome with recognition. "Sweet mother of fuck. You were one of ours. Shit, you were just a little rugrat last I saw you. A dusky skinned child with pale eyes and the tail of a panther. Look at you now. All grown up. Is that why you're here? Want to exact revenge for taking you away from ol' mommy and daddy?"
"I-I…" Kiera struggled to get the words out, "I don't remember."
"You don't? Then why are you here? How did you know about our little outpost?"
"Dwain."
"Dwain? That old chestnut? He gave me up?"
"He did…Though, it required some convincing. A hand or foot perhaps. Can't remember exactly. Maybe both. Just so when I left he wouldn't be a danger to others. I'm sure you understand."
Alvred laughed, yet none of the humor reached his seaweed colored eyes. "Dwain may have been a stupid shitbird but he was my friend. An important contact in the Mistral black market. He connected me with my top faunus buyer. Or at least he used to. Before Ira Glass slipped off her throne and hit her head or whatever the fuck happened in Refuge. Her death has left a vacuum in the black market and everyone's grabbing for power. Fucking chaos. Know what that leaves me with? Opportunities. To branch out. Dip my stubby little toes in some new waters. And with Atlas entering the game there's plenty of kiddy pools to soak in."
"Or drown in." suggested Kiera through grit teeth.
Alvred gave a yellow smile, "I like you. Maybe I'll keep ya. Gets awfully cold on the open water this time of year. Could use the company. You don't like that? That's okay. I won't hog you all to myself. Seeing the damage you inflicted onto my crew perhaps its best if they have you. Only fair."
The numb paralysis holding Kiera frozen was losing its grip. She could feel again. The rough rope against her body. The packing snow beneath her. The tenuous strain of her shocked muscles.
Kiera smiled at Alvred and all the gathered faces of the Sarke crew. "I think I'll have you all. Right here on this coast."
The crew snickered and Alvred stood, the only one among them dubiously unamused. "It's rather cold out here don't you think?"
"Don't worry." Soothed Kiera, "Your blood will warm it some." She clenched her toes tight. The glyphs inscribed onto her boots lit up a volcanic red before bursting into flames.
They all jumped back in alarm. Alvred jabbed at her with his electric cattle prod, but Kiera kicked out. The enflamed boots burned through the rope net and she was free. Balancing on her hands, she spun, legs outwards. Lashes of fire whipped out from her boots, blossoming into a cyclone. Those that couldn't back off in time were scorched by the inferno. By the time Kiera kicked up onto her feet the snow had been melted away, revealing blackened sands in a fifteen-foot radius.
Boris Alvred retreated to the Sarke, leaving her to what remained of his crew. They had lost their zest. Those that still stood, did so on wobbly knees. Kiera pounced. Wreathed in flames as she was, any attacker suffered the heat of her anger. Few attempted. Many tried to flee, but she chased them down before they made it ten feet. They could not match her speed or fighting prowess. Kiera fought with nimble steel like she's done all her life. But unlike before, there was no joy in it. No thrill in the takedown. No revelry in the sport of it. This was real, visceral violence.
Felling another Sarke crewmember, Kiera whirled around for the next only to find none left. The coast was littered with the groaning wounded. Bodies were strewn about. Some were smoldering. Others were bent in unnatural ways. Kiera stood there dumbstruck with the knowledge that she did this. No other. Her reasons for doing so were momentarily lost in the devastation wrought by her rage. She had to remind herself. These people weren't street thugs or thickskulled bullies that needed taking down a peg. They were slavers, traffickers, murderers, and worse. Kiera wrapped that knowledge around herself as if it were a warm blanket. In its comfort she looked out at the scene and was satisfied with her work.
Movement caught her eye. Boris Alvred bustled about one of the yet to be loaded cargo containers. He fiddled with its locks for a few seconds before throwing open the dual doors. Kiera squinted across the distance but could not make out the shapes inside. Alvred raised his hand above his head. In it he held some kind of remote. With a lustful glee he pressed down on one of the remote's triggers.
A sudden red glow flickered to life within the cargo container. They marched out in ranks of five. Humanoid machines. Kiera had heard stories from up north about robotic soldiers, but she'd never seen one. Until now. They moved with rigid motions. Functional, but slow and bulky. Each came equipped with a battle rifle in their hands. A red light radiated from the visors of their helmed heads.
Five rows filed in before Boris Alvred. The Sarke Captain grinned behind his metal soldiers.
"You like my knights?!" he shouted out to her, "A fellow ginger friend of mine hooked me up with them. Not top of the line Atlesian product, but they follow orders without question. A desirable trait for just about every paying hand in the kingdoms. I planned on selling them, but now I figure that would just be rude of me. What kind of salesman doesn't verify his product? Let's call this their test run, shall we? Knights!" The humanoid robots straightened into attention. "Kill her."
The Atlesian Knights shifted positions and opened fire. Kiera swept her leg out in front of her, kicking up a wall of snow and sand. A storm of bullets blindly tore through the mist. One caught her in the clavicle and another at her thigh. Her aura protected her, but she was knocked to the ground. Above the racket of gunfire Kiera could make out Alvred's delighted laughter. The sound of it turned her stomach. Just like when she first laid eyes on the Sarke. She heard such a laugh before. There was no denying it. What Alvred said was true. He stole her away from her home. Her family. Shackled her in chains and collars. Shipped her off Menagerie to be sold into slavery.
The deepest parts of her soul churned, cranking like gears. A sound filled her head. The rattle of loose chains falling to the ground. Then at last her soul clicked into place. Kiera rushed into the hail of bullets, bounding towards them on all fours. Her boots left melted footprints in her wake.
It took months of reconnaissance throughout the edges of the Mistral Kingdom to track down the Sarke and its crew. For a while there Leif was beginning to believe the stories were true. Maybe the notorious ship was just that deadly for they came across no one who'd laid eyes upon its steel hull. However, the truth was never as grand as people believe. They picked up on nothing but dead ends and false leads because those that have seen the ship were either in chains someplace else or not of the mind to share the location of its whereabouts with members of the White Fang.
Humans protected their own. Leif would give them that. But their loyalty was flimsy. Once he took the poker to their skin they dropped the act quicker than Leif anticipated. Humans proved less resilient to their faunus counterparts. They never had to struggle. Or be broken. Faunus did all the time. Its what made them strong.
They learned about the Sarke's secret dock on the southern coast of Anima from a club owner who bought faunus slaves from Boris Alvred himself. Finally, progress. Their mission would be a success after all. At least, that's what Leif thought when they found the Sarke at last. They watched for days from a vantage point not far from the coast. The Sarke it seemed was undergoing a transformation. The ship's insides were torn out. Cages. Chains. Everything one needed to keep a brig full of slaves in check was ripped out and stored in the dock's warehouses and replaced with shipping containers.
It seemed Boris Alvred had a head for business if nothing else. The slave trade in Mistral was in all sorts of ruins after the events at Refuge. The news of the slave quarry spread far and wide. A martyr in the eyes of the public. Slavery became as toxic to the masses as it should've been from the beginning. Dealing with slaves not only became more difficult in Mistral, but a great deal riskier as well. Captain Alvred knew the way the wind was blowing and decided to change cargo. All the better.
Leif and his team watched on, readying themselves for when the Sarke would depart. They intended to follow. That is until she showed up. A stranger. A faunus. She leapt out onto the coast as if she were entering some kind of arena. The members of the Sarke crew regarded her with bewildered hostility. No words were shared between them. None that Leif could here. As sudden as her appearance, the stranger attacked.
"Well this is a problem." Muttered Cleo beside him, "I'll go wake Waylan."
As she scurried off Leif watched on in awe. This stranger was like a lion amongst a pack of antelopes. Her deft movements hid the strength behind her kicks. Even outnumbered and surrounded she made them pay dearly. Leif became so engrossed with the fighting he didn't even notice Cleo's return. She squatted down next to him, nose sniffing the air. The frosted tips of her feline whiskers trembled.
"She's still going?" Down below on the beach Boris Alvred landed a shot with his netgun, entangling and incapacitating the stranger. "What do we do?"
Leif turned towards Waylan who stood at the ready. His hooded eyes hinted at no preference. Instead, they looked to him for answers.
"We stay on mission." Said Leif, "If that faunus wants to get herself captured then so be. We'll free her if we can once we locate all of Alvred's contacts."
"But that can take weeks." Protested Cleo.
"Months." Corrected Leif.
Cleo's eyes watered with tears for her fellow faunus. If she still lived by the time they're mission was complete, then she would be a different person. Changed by the brutal treatment of her captors. There was no doubt in Leif's mind and yet still, it was a necessary sacrifice. She will just have to handle whatever-
Flames erupted around the faunus below. Tails of fire spun out from where the faunus was previously lying prone, but she was no longer visible.
"Clever." Mused Waylan.
"What? What happened?" asked Leif without looking away from the flames, "I didn't see!"
"Dust embedded boots." Said Cleo with a mixture of amusement and awe. "This girl is hot!"
There. She was on the move again, fire trailing her feet. Clever indeed. Her pants which were no doubt fire resistant were also strapped tight to her legs as to avoid making contact with open flame. What remained of the Sarke crew didn't stand a chance. Their loss of courage saw to their downfall. Boris Alvred on the other hand found himself more troops.
Cleo jumped to her feet, "Are those?"
"Atlesian Knights." Confirmed Waylan.
Leif's crocodile tail wagged in excitement, unintentionally creating a snow angel behind him. "This must mean he has an Atlesian supplier. Or at least a connection to one. This is bigger than I thought."
"If we're going to help," said Cleo with panic in her voice, "now's the time."
"We'll do no such thing. This can still be salvaged."
"What are you on about? Those knights are going to kill her!"
"Exactly. Alvred will never rat on his contacts. Not to us. Can't be sure and I won't risk it. But when he's done here, we can follow, and he'll lead us straight to them."
"But she'll die! We have to cut our losses and-"
"No! I will not return to Sienna after all this time with such a minor victory. Boris Alvred isn't the real problem. It's the humans who support him. Take down Alvred and he'll just be replaced but if we could get to his supporters then-"
A growl pierced the air, echoing out into the woods and across the frozen ocean. The stranger charged on all fours into the knights' gunfire.
"She's insane!" shouted Cleo.
Insane she may be, but that faunus moved faster on all fours than she did on just two legs. A black shroud shimmered around her figure. Leif thought it was just her aura depleting from the damage, but it grew. Took shape, manifesting itself like a shadow at her side. A shadow with fangs and claws. The stranger clashed with the advancing Atlesian Knights in an explosion of shredded metal.
Before he even knew it, Leif was on his feet. All three of them were silent witnesses to what played out below. Her burning feet was all that distinguished her amidst the shadowy form of a great panther. It moved with a mind of its own, thrashing out, protecting her flank. They fought woven as one. Faunus and beast. The deadliest predator. Together they tore the Atlesian Knights apart.
Though it was freezing out, Leif's clothes become sodden with sweat. "We need to get down there." He croaked, "Now!"
Kiera became vaguely aware of the presence fighting alongside her. Its growls rippled throughout her soul like a boulder dropped in a lake. She caught glimpses of its visage in the haze of the battle. Raised hackles. Burning yellow eyes. The presence fought with fervent ferocity, mirroring her own desire for the destruction of these tin cans. She kicked at the last knight who seemed unfazed by both its imminent demise and the destruction of its friends. The presence's clawed paw followed her leg's arc, tearing the knight's head clean off.
Sparks spritzed from the robot's neck. The last Atlesian Knight fell to its knees before toppling to the ground. Directly behind it, some twenty feet away stood Boris Alvred leveling a reloaded netgun her way. With the pull of a trigger the net shot out and like before opened up to entangle her. Only this time the presence interceded. It shredded the net into bits of rope with one swing.
Kiera knew this shape the presence took. The upper half of a panther though twice the normal size. It turned to regard Kiera a moment before receding into her shadow. With the panther's return her aura reactivated. Truth be told she didn't even know it was gone. But looking down now at the number of scrapes and cuts she sustained from brawling with hunks of metal she knew she fought those knights vulnerable.
A string of curses brought her attention back face front. Alvred struggled to reload his netgun, which seamed to have jammed. Kiera strode towards him. Alvred dropped the gun and backed away from her slow approach, retreating further down the dock.
"Wait a minute girl." He said, "Shit, you don't wanna do this. I can help you." When she didn't halt, his voice lost the casual ease which defined it. "Whatever you came here for, I can give it to you. Whatever it is you want." Alvred stopped himself just as he was about to walk off the edge of the dock and into the freezing waters.
The wooden planks crackled underneath Kiera's fiery steps. "You have nothing I want."
"What about your parents?" Kiera halted mid step. Her brief hesitation brought back the sly nonchalance that personified Boris Alvred. "Ah, see, now that's got your attention. I never forget a face, girl. How you think I remembered you? I remember your parents as well. Back on Menagerie. Good folks. I can take you to them."
"How do you know they were good people?" asked Kiera, cocking her head. "You get to know families well before kidnapping their children?"
Alvred spread his hands out in an almost innocent gesture. "It was just the way they looked. Friendly faces. Real committed to their community. So much so they were so busy with it they didn't notice their own daughter was missing." He winced and a little bit of desperation seeped back into his tone. "I retract that last part. Listen, sweetie…I know where they live. I can take you to them. If you let me. Otherwise, you'll never know."
Kiera stood frozen on the dock. The flames of her boots blackened the planks beneath her to a charcoal shade. Her parents. She often wondered about them. Every stray did. But that's all her curiosity amounted to. Fleeting thoughts. Kiera never dared let herself hope and yet the swell that now filled her heart yearned for it. Despite her efforts to convince herself otherwise she knew Alvred was telling the truth. He knew and with his help she could find her birth family. All she had to do was spare this man's life. This wicked man who ruined hundreds of lives including her own. The choice teetered within her same as Alvred did at the edge of the dock. When at last she spoke, it was without trepidation.
"I've gone more than twenty years not knowing. Who my parents are…The life I could've had with them. That's all behind me now. And so are you." Kiera dropped onto her palms and spun, gathering a cloud of flames before directing it straight into Boris Alvred. The man's furs caught fire and he lit up like a matchstick.
Alvred writhed and screamed as the flames engulfed him. Kiera reached out and snatched the necklace of trophies from his neck before backing away from his flailing hands. Seeking peace from the fire's scorching touch, Alvred jumped into the water's frigid relief. Flesh sizzled followed by rising steam. To his credit Alvred managed to stay afloat, splashing around a bit before submitting to the cold and shock. Kiera watched as his body sunk into the ocean's opaque depths. She held his string of trophies in her hand. So many and yet she knew this represented only a small portion.
After a while, Kiera dropped the grim necklace onto the water and watched it drift away. She only hoped that the currents will bring the necklace back to Menagerie. That way at least some part of those faunus could return home and perhaps gain some measure of peace.
A shadow passed overhead. Kiera glanced up to notice a pair of hawks flying above. Round and round, they went, circling the scene of battle. One landed on the railing of the Sarke. Its golden gaze fixed on Kiera.
"What are you doing here?" she asked the hawk, "Shouldn't you be up north where its warmer?"
The hawk tilted his head sideways as if to repeat Kiera's own questions back to her. Kiera squinted at the bird. It looked just like-No, she shook the thought from her head and retreated from the hawk's stare.
The fire from her boots dwindled well past the raging flames they started out as. Kiera stomped them into a snow mound, extinguishing the flames. Peering through the resulting smoke she took notice of three newcomers emerging from the woods. Sarke scouts? Maybe straggling lookouts? The closer they got the more Kiera doubted their affiliation. They were to calm in their stride. Any remaining Sarke crew members would've tucked tail and ran before even stepping foot onto the coast. However, to these three the scattered bodies were nothing more than obstacles to be stepped over.
Kiera went out to meet them. They wore cloaks of white and bone masks resembling creatures of Grimm that hid the upper half of their faces.
"That's far enough!" shouted Kiera.
The trio halted a mere ten feet away. Far enough to give Kiera some space in case things got violent while also close enough to get a good look at these strangers. Any lingering thoughts of their association with the Sarke were dismissed when she noticed the cat nose and whiskers of the short girl on the left. The guy in the middle dragged a crocodile's tail behind him. The one on the right, who Kiera judged as the biggest threat stood a head and shoulders taller than his companions while still remaining to be hunched over. He had abnormally broad shoulders and a round, bulbous back underneath his cloak. She could only presume he was a faunus same as the other two.
Behind their painted masks their eyes examined her in return. Gauging her strength same as she did them.
"What's your name?" asked the man in the middle. When it became abundantly clear that she wasn't going to answer he continued. "My name is Leif. She's Cleo. The hulking man beside me is Waylan. We're with the White Fang." He spoke that last sentence as if it explained everything.
"Is that supposed to mean something?" asked Kiera.
"I've given you our names." Said Leif, the frustration creasing the edges of his voice made him sound almost childlike. "How should I address you?"
"You're doing it."
Cleo snickered, "I like her."
Leif grunted before looking around as if noticing the battle torn coast for the first time. "What drove you to do all of this?"
"What does it matter to you?" replied Kiera, "You got business with Boris Alvred?"
"In a manner of speaking…The three of us make up a single cell for the Mistral branch of the White Fang. We were tasked with tracking him down."
"Congratulations. You found him."
"We found him days ago."
"Is that right? So you've, what? Been hiding out in the woods waiting for reinforcements?"
Leif shook his head, "Waiting for him to leave. That way we could follow."
"Sorry to break it to you, but Boris Alvred isn't going anywhere anymore."
"We've been tracking this fucker for months. Months!"
Cleo put a hand on her friend's shoulder, "Leif, calm down."
Leif brushed her off and strode forward, "Then you come out of the woodwork and fuck it all up. And for what?"
"I came for Boris Alvred." Said Kiera, "To put an end to the slaving and an end to him."
"All out of the goodness of your heart?" Leif softened some, "Or is this revenge we're talking about? That at least I understand."
Kiera could still hear Alvred's screams as he burned. With every yelp and cry the hope of ever seeing her parents withered and died. A bridge, she herself burned. When Kiera answered Leif, she knew the truth of her words. "Revenge had nothing to do with this."
"Is that right?" growled Leif, "You think yourself a hero then? Dealing out justice?"
"I know what a hero is. I've loved one. I'm not a hero. I just deal with the bad same as I've always done. Boris Alvred is dead and the world is better off for it."
"It would be even more so if we got to his supplies and buyers. Could've brought the whole network down if it wasn't for your shortsightedness!"
"Are you expecting an apology?" asked Kiera, done with Leif's petulance. "Or are you just whining for whining's sake?"
Leif looked ready to retort but the man named Waylan spoke before he could. "What's happened is unfortunate. I share Leif's misgivings, but there was no way for you to know of our plans. Before all else I commend your bravery for facing the whole Sarke Crew alone and admire your skill in prevailing."
"You kicked their asses." Added Cleo with a smile, "We could use a faunus like you. A real fighter."
Kiera glanced between them. These three were fighters in their own rights. She could tell that much by the way they stood. A cell, they said they were. Tasked with taking out Alvred's network. That didn't sound like the White Fang she knew about. "I thought the White Fang were peaceful protestors."
"No longer." Said Leif, "For a faunus you're out of the loop for what concerns your kind. The humans only understand violence. So, we've decided to speak their language."
"Right there." Kiera scoffed, "That's why you'll never win. Not really."
Leif's eyes lit up behind his Grimm mask. "Come again?"
"You distinguish like they do. Humans. Faunus…We're all just people. Sure, faunus may have some interesting characteristics, but it's the same mind we share. Nothing is more evident to that than what you just said. Even if the White Fang were to overtake the world, you would fail to bring about the change you seek. You'd just be switching places and those 'humans' you oppress will create their own White Fang. And so, the cycle will continue until both sides realize that in order to achieve equality they must see that there is no difference between them."
Leif prickled at her words, his crocodile tail thrashing about in the snow. "No difference between us? What about the human you just put down?"
"There are just as many bad faunus as there are bad humans and its ignorant to think otherwise." Said Kiera.
"Yeah? Think there are any faunus that hunt down humans like Boris Alvred did?"
"Isn't that what you're doing here?" her words visibly rocked the three of them. Leif especially. Whatever cord that kept his temper in check snapped.
Leif strode towards her. Kiera didn't blink under his induced rage. He marched straight up until they were inches apart. Through grit teeth he whispered, "Don't ever compare me to a human. I'm nothing like Boris Alvred."
"No, I suppose not." Said Kiera, "You have a tail."
Leif reached behind his back but before he could grab hold of whatever weapon he hid there, Kiera struck him in the chest with her palm. It was more of a shove, one strong enough to send Leif sliding back to his compatriots. Leif quickly recovered though enraged. He threw off his cloak and brandished the weapons from behind his back. A pair of twin glaives. One attached to each arm. The blades were large and round like an axe and encrusted with green rock patterns, possibly Dust. Leif's crocodile tail smashed the ground in a kick up of snow and sand.
"Leif, stop this!" shouted Cleo.
"Don't come between us." Warned Leif, "I'll show her what a faunus with purpose is capable of!"
With that, he charged. Kiera retreated from his advance, dodging as she went. Leif pursued, his axes cleaving large sweeping arcs through the air. They danced across the coast with Kiera leading the way back to where she left her bag in the brush. Leif's anger was her advantage. He came at her with nothing held back and therefore no focus. She managed to disengage long enough to snatch up her bag before Leif sliced through the brush.
Kiera leaped over his head, doing away with her bag in midair. Leif came at her again, only this time she did not retreat. Axe blades collided with a tube of metal in a shrill cling. Leif remained to enraged to be caught off guard, and so he continued his frenzied assault. With each clash Nameless sent tremors up Kiera's arm and the pitch grew louder. Leif intentionally sought contact with Nameless in hopes of breaking the hole riddled baton rather than moving past the defense. His mistake.
In their flurry, Leif swung around smacking Kiera in her side with the brunt of his massive tail. The swipe shattered what remained of Kiera's aura and sent her tumbling across the coast. She skidded to a stop just in time to parry one axe blade. The other sliced across her collar bone. Kiera shifted her weight and hurled herself away as Leif's crushing attack slid down Nameless and landed in the snow to form a miniature crater. Nameless' keening continued, vibrating every flake of snow and grain of sand in a foot radius of its metal baton.
Blood seeped into Kiera's sleeveless shirt and down her chest. Leif stood at the ready where he landed, seemingly content to end their fight at first blood. Kiera, however, did not share the sentiment. She rushed him, swinging Nameless as if it were a club. Leif batted away her attacks, which became increasingly more difficult. The reverberation emanating from the baton worked its way up to Kiera's shoulder. Its screech was all she could hear until it met Leif's left axe blade. The steel cracked and shattered as if it were cheep pottery.
Leif staggered backwards, away from the shredding debris that peppered his face. Kiera stood over him just as Buckets did on that day in the Buffer. Those memories replayed in her mind over and over again as if stuck in a loop. Buckets had hesitated. For just a split second his pacifistic nature took over and it cost him his life. Kiera vowed to never hesitate. Sprawled before her, face dripping blood Kiera saw Oren. The killer whose life she failed to claim. A black rage overcame her exhaustion. Mimicking Buckets' movements, she aimed down at Oren and struck with the tip of the baton.
A sudden gust of wind from the left. Waylan dove over his companion in time to intercept the strike. Nameless struck Waylan's hunched back with a concussive explosion. That moment of impact expunged all of Nameless' built up energy in one booming shockwave that threw everyone back. Cracks fissured their way up Kiera's arm before her shoulder popped and she lost all feeling in the limb. She bounced upon contact and continued to skid to the edge of the icy ocean.
Snow and sand fell like ashes from the sky. When the debris settled Cleo found the panther faunus flat on her back at the coast's edge, staring up at the sky. Cleo stood over her, but the stranger didn't even seem to register her presence. Her eyes remained fixed above as if tracking something. Cleo looked up, but saw nothing but a cloud filled dome with a luminous patch where the sun shined behind the poofy veil.
"What are you looking at?" asked Cleo.
"The hawks." Replied the stranger, "Circling like vultures. What do you think they want?"
Cleo strained her neck but found no sign of such birds. "I have no idea."
"They've been following me since Refuge. All this time…" her voice trailed away.
"Perhaps then they're here because you're here. Perhaps, they're here for the same reasons you are."
She laughed at that, although the humor was bitter. "I have no idea why I'm here."
Cleo knelt next to her, "What's your name?"
The stranger met her eyes for the first time. "Kiera. My name is Kiera."
Cleo smiled and held out her hand, "Nice to meet you, Kiera."
Kiera reached out with her left hand. Cleo clasped it and helped pull her up into a sitting position. Kiera grimaced at the effort. Her right arm hung limp at her side, already showing signs of swollenness and discoloration from presumably multiple breaks.
"I'll fix you up. Starting with this cut. I don't want you bleeding out on me." Cleo rummaged through her backpack and retrieved her first aid kit. Using a pair of scissors, she cut off the bits of shirt in the way before cleaning the wound. Kiera offered no protest as Cleo continued with the stitching. This faunus had a high tolerance for pain. Throughout the sewing process she voiced no word of complaint and elicited only a few grunts and winces here and there.
"All things considered, it's a shallow cut." Said Cleo as she finished the last stitch. "You're lucky it didn't severe anything vital. Your arm though, looks in worse shape. That weapon of yours is quite destructive to have done this extent of damage to its user."
"I just don't know how to handle it properly." Said Kiera, "You should've seen its original owner. I have none of his grace. Compared to him I'm just a meathead swinging a club." Her eyes lit up upon remembrance but instantly sunk. "Your friend shouldn't have interfered. No one else needed to get hurt."
"Who, Waylan? He's just fine."
"How's that possible?"
"You'll see." Cleo doused the wound with a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Kiera snatched Cleo's wrist as the alcohol coursed its way through the wound. Despite her weakened state her grip was iron. It was all Cleo could do to avoid wincing. When the pain subsided Kiera thankfully released her grip. Cleo rubbed her sore wrist, "Sorry about that, but better this than risk infection."
Kiera examined the wound on her collarbone. "You do this often?"
"Every White Fang cell requires at least one of its members to be proficient at first aid. Leif always rushed into things headfirst and Waylan was usually right behind him, ready to protect him when things went bad. So, the job fell to me. I don't mind. I'd rather be the one who stitches up the wounds than the one who receives them. Leif's alright too by the way. Shaken, but alive thanks to Waylan."
"And you're helping me because..."
Cleo shrugged, "You're not our enemy. Leif…he's just frustrated is all. What you struck true. In many ways we're like Boris Alvred. No matter how much we tell ourselves otherwise. We've hurt people. Tortured them. All just to get Alvred's location. We're hunters same as him. It's that acknowledgment, which set Leif off." Cleo gestured to Kiera's broken arm, "Does it hurt?"
"No."
"It will." Warned Cleo, "Let me fix you a splint and sling."
Cleo crafted a makeshift splint out of bits of wood and tape she had stored for such an occasion. For the sling she tore off and tied a piece of her own cloak. Kiera watched her work with something akin to awe. As if her simple movements awakened something within her. Whatever it was filled Kiera's eyes with tears. She didn't seem to notice until they started rolling down her cheeks. When that happened Kiera quickly wiped her face with her good hand. Cleo thought it best not to ask and instead gently guided Kiera's splint arm into the sling.
"Can you stand?"
In answer, Kiera struggled to her two feet. She wobbled some and Cleo was ready to catch her in case she fell, but she never did. After a few seconds of stabilization, she started the long walk back across the coast.
"What happens now?" asked Cleo who followed a step behind.
"I don't know."
"Well, where do you plan to go?"
"I don't know that either."
Cleo wriggled her whiskers, "You weren't kidding before, were you? Did you come out here on a whim?"
Kiera stopped and knelt to reclaim her baton, which rested glimmering in the snow. "Something like that."
Cleo gaped at the scene around her, taking it all in once more. It was a struggle to connect the fact that all this was done upon impulse. "May I ask why?"
"I needed to get away."
"Some holiday this is." Snorted Cleo, still hoping Kiera was joking.
"I'm most at peace when I'm fighting."
"You enjoy it that much?"
"It keeps me occupied." Kiera spoke as if what had transpired was nothing more than her typical past time. This faunus was something else.
"You should stay with us." Offered Cleo, "At least until you recover. I'm not asking you to join the White Fang. But no one in your condition can survive out here in the wild. I don't care how badass you are. If the cold doesn't take you. Then the Grimm will."
Kiera voiced no answer to her offer.
They reached the slope where Leif and Waylan were waiting. Leif sat in a daze, his eyes fixed on nothing. His bone mask was gone, blown away in the shockwave along with his ego.
Waylan stood over his companion, seeing to his minor wounds. The plates of folding bone armor attached to his back and the top of his scalp were revealed through his torn cloak. These armadillo attributes while hidden made of his silhouette a hulking abnormality. Waylan never seemed to mind. Unlike Cleo's own feline snout and whiskers Waylan's animal traits were profoundly useful. A natural shell able to shield him from all kinds of danger. Even still, Kiera's attack put its durability to the test. Waylan was hurting underneath those plates of his. Cleo knew it even if Waylan would never admit it.
"How is she?" he asked.
"Worse than you." Laughed Cleo, "But she's a tough one. That's for sure."
Waylan moved so that he stood towering before Kiera. "I'm sorry for interfering. But if violence continued then I would have needed to dig two graves."
Kiera glanced at Leif who refused to meet her eyes. "I got carried away."
"I don't blame you." Added Cleo, "Everyone's blood was pumping."
"Have you decided?" asked Waylan.
"Decided what?"
"I'm sure Cleo has already asked. Will you accompany us?"
"I will." said Keira, much to Cleo's joyful surprise and Leif's dismay. "For a little while at least."
"Good." Smiled Cleo, "I would've taken you anyway. Wasn't about to let you wander off to die."
Waylan nodded his approval before stepping past them both. "What do you plan to do with the Sarke?" he asked.
Kiera turned to face the ship, "What of it?"
"It belongs to us now." Spoke up Leif, "The White Fang can use a vessel like that."
"You want us to use the very ship that helped enslave hundreds of faunus?" replied Waylan without even looking in Leif's direction. "That will hurt our cause more than it will help us."
"Waylan's right." Agreed Cleo.
Leif smoldered in embarrassment, "But by what right does she decide its fate? We're the ones who tracked it down. We've watched them for days."
"Watched and done nothing. Where I come from, you keep what you earn." Waylan regarded Kiera out of the corner of his eye. "You defeated Alvred and all his crew. In my eyes the Sarke now belongs to you. What do you wish to do with it?"
Kiera regarded the monstrosity of a ship resting at the dock. "I want it sunk to the bottom of the sea where it will never trouble anyone again."
Waylan gave a simple nod, "I'll see it done."
Leif looked ready to protest, but a pleading look from Cleo shut him up.
The Sarke drifted out into the ocean a safe distance from the dock before its hull exploded. A pillar of crimson fire roared up a hundred feet into the air. The initial explosion of Dust set off a chain of smaller detonations throughout the ship, each puncturing holes in the Sarke's belly. The ship careened under the influx of water it took on and tipped until its front drills were pointing almost straight up.
Slowly but surely, it sunk into the ocean's depths. The unnatural fires of Dust lingered even on the ice. Its glow illuminated the coast in a red tinge. Kiera watched on from the White Fang's camp set up on one of the few nearby hills. She could just make out Waylan's hunched figure walking down the docks, not even turning to look at his work. The Sarke's dying heat washed over the camp and with it came a surge of dizziness. Already Kiera's arm ached, causing throbs of pain just as Cleo promised. Her mind lulled like an adrift barge at the mercy of rogue waves. She closed her eyes, forcing the nausea back down her throat.
With the Sarke completely submerged and her queasiness settled, Kiera turned back to the campfire. Leif sat on a log gnawing at some tough jerkey. With his mask gone Kiera got her first real look at him. An all too young face. Couldn't have been any older than eighteen and yet his rage against humanity burned like hot iron. It reminded Kiera all too well of Augustus Clementine. Except Clementine was cold steel. He would not have stopped, bloodthirst satiated, after the first inflicted wound as Leif did.
Cleo fluttered around Leif, applying poultice to the nicks and cuts inflicted by his own blade's shattered debris. Kiera thought about apologizing, but she couldn't muster the strength to argue with Leif. Not after today's events. Exhaustion, which had nipped at her heels since Refuge, had finally caught up with Kiera. It weighed on her, worse than the cold that clung to her bones. She wouldn't survive out in the wild. Not in her current condition. Nor would she have been able to refuse Cleo if she insisted.
As much as Kiera thought herself the lone wolf it was never really the case for her. In Refuge she had Buckets and Runt. Before them, Sap and Amber. And way before that when she was the lone person in the woods she still had her pack. That den of wolves. They ignored her at first, but after a while they took her in. Kiera never would've survived otherwise. Now these people of the White Fang offer the same. Protection, food, and company. Only a fool would refuse.
To an extent Kiera knew she could trust Cleo. The feline faunus tended to her wounds when she had every reason not to. She recognized the flaws in herself and their cause. That not only made her kind, but wise as well. Leif on the other hand hated Kiera and maybe even himself. His anger though made him predictable. Only Waylan remained a mystery to her and even so she sensed no threat of malice.
Kiera would stay with them until she recovered. Maybe even longer if things went well, but she would never join the White Fang. Their cause was doomed in her eyes. All upraising fueled by hatred end up becoming something those first few rebels never intended. Kiera had learned this well in the Mud District and she had no intention of walking that path again. She'd fight their enemies. The slavers and oppressors. The thugs and brutes. Whether they be human or faunus. She would make do distinction. Hopefully, these White Fang will learn from that.
"Would you be okay to travel at first light?" asked Cleo.
Kiera nodded, "Where will we go?"
"I have a report to deliver." Answered Leif, "This mission was a failure. We'll be lucky if Sienna gives us funds for another task."
"You're being dramatic." Said Cleo, "Its not like she'll sideline us over this. We're her only capable cell in Mistral."
Using his tail, Leif swept some twigs into the fire. "Not anymore. That upstart, Taurus, is making a name for himself. He gets showered in praise while we get shafted at every turn."
"Adam is nothing." Waylan emerged from the woods as if he had been standing there listening the whole time. He sat opposite of Leif, close to the fire. Its light was enough to illuminate the shadows his plates of armor cast upon him. He had a scar across the bridge of his nose and a small mouth in proportion to the rest of his body. When he spoke, his voice sounded as if it belonged to someone else. Someone much smaller. "Delusions of grandeur blind him to what really matters."
"And what would that be?"
Waylan flicked his gaze to Leif, "The person at your side. Lose sight of that and your reasons for fighting are sure to follow. Do you understand?"
Leif scoffed and blew the question off, but Waylan leaned forward. His hunched shoulders loomed over the fire as if ready to drop down and extinguish the minuscule flames. "Do you understand me?"
Leif could not hide the fear in his eyes. It tainted his visage until at last he submitted. "I understand. I always have."
Waylan grunted but otherwise gave no indication whether he believed Leif or not. Time passed, and they ate their meals in silence with the warmth of the campfire before them and the heat of the Sarke's destruction to their backs. Halfway into their meals Waylan spoke again.
"Those crewmembers still alive are gathering themselves down there."
Leif practically jumped to his feet, "I forgot about them. Why didn't you mention this sooner? We should go and finish them off."
"We're not executioners." Cut in Cleo.
"Leave them be." Said Kiera, "Their ship is gone. Most won't survive the trek back to civilization and those who do will spread word of what's happened here. I say let them."
Leif settled down and something of a smirk creeped onto his face. "Heh, you think like her."
"Who?"
"Our leader, Sienna Khan."
Kiera didn't know how to reply to that. She could hardly tell if it was meant as a compliment or a jab at her doubts in the White Fang's cause. Kiera decided to respond to neither and elected to turn in early.
They provided her with her own tent and bedroll. Kiera passed out almost the instant she hit the furs.
Once more she prowled through strange jungle. Using the power of her hind legs she leaped up onto a thick tree branch. Her claws dug into the bark, providing a firm grip as she crawled along to the branch's outer reaches. There she laid down on her belly, letting her forelimbs dangle to the sides.
Down below on the jungle floor roamed other animals. None noticed her for she remained camouflaged in the nocturnal night. A hawk flew over and perched itself on the same branch only a few feet from her jaws. Kiera growled at the bird, her hackles rising. The hawk however did not flee. Angered by its presence but too tired to lash out Kiera closed her eyes and let the sounds of nature lull her into a deep slumber.