Chapter #5: Lady's Fate & Red Sand

Yang

Yang's time at the inn had now last several weeks with her racking up quite the wealth of coin from those foolish enough to challenge her at anything physical. The poor ones didn't have much, so she left them be, but those who tried to grab and grope the serving girl were quickly under Yang's eyes. Sometimes they didn't take her offer, so Yang left them to it. If they still tried for her she'd toss them out along with anyone who tried to help.

She even managed to get some larger amounts of coins from a couple of noblemen that stopped by, large bags with mostly silver and even a few golden dragons inside. Of course, Yang was generous to her friend and employer, giving her a good twenty percent of whatever she earned. It was much more than what it cost to feed and house Yang so Masha didn't say a word, hell she even encouraged her to target the ones she knew would carry more gold.

So that's how it went for weeks, Yang making money and protecting the inn from the riff raff as Masha had called them. A security guard for the building and those working and staying inside. She also used her time to talk with different comers and goers, learning names, sigils, locations, being given a map even of which she studied hard. It was clear to her she wasn't on Remnant anymore, she was a fighter first and foremost, but she was not stupid by any means.

It was when the King's company left Winterfell and returned down the Kingsroad that Yang really started making a name for herself. Soldiers of Baratheon and Lannister, mercenaries and merchants, hedge knights and other nobles or men with wealth would stop by for an ale or to stay the night. Masha said the King might possibly stop there on his return to King's Landing.

Yang was to be on her best behaviour and listen to whatever the King, Queen, Lords, and other important people wanted. She was not to try and skin them of some money, even though they would have a lot. "The King always pays well wherever he goes girl, and it's best not to anger him when he's drunk." Yang sighed and resigned herself to a boring night.

But when the King's company did show up the amount of people was absurd. Horses and carts, a wheelhouse that a couple of golden haired, green eyed people came out of. One was older, the other a younger version of her, a mother and daughter and unknown to Yang, the Queen and Princess of Westeros.

Knights in many designs roamed around the grounds turning the dirt to mud and erecting tents on the sides of the roads and down the road where there were more open areas. Yang remained indoors, watching from above in her own quarters as she slowly changed. The bras of this time didn't feel great against her skin, but they did the job and she was quickly becoming accustomed to them. Perhaps with the money I've won I can get a few good pairs.

Thankfully Masha had given up on trying to get Yang to wear a dress on this occasion, Yang was not one for dresses and instead presented herself in baggy pants with laced brown leather boots. Her torso covered with a greyed top and leather woven overlay that was a little tight across her chest. Masha shook her head seeing her and told her to stand guard while the serving girl went about her duties.

The two girls Yang saw leave the wheelhouse came in and walked past Yang towards the bedroom. "You're really pretty." The younger girls said, bringing a smile to Yang's face who squats down to her level. About to speak the mother snaps.

"Myrcella! We do not speak to the peasants." Yang's eyes turned up to the older woman as she rounded on her, how could she speak so ill of someone she didn't know. That's it, I'm tossing her out. She thought as Masha called out.

"Forgive her Your Grace. She's not from these parts and likely does not know who you are." She clips Yang on the head and the brawler winches, putting on an act, rubbing her head. "This is the Queen, the little one is her daughter. So bow to them and apologise this instant."

Yang knew when to hold her tongue and gave a deep bow. "I'm sorry Your Grace. Forgive my lack of knowledge." Cersei scoffed.

"A girl does not bow, they curtsey." She said before turning and leaving to the room, the Princess giving Yang a smile and Yang giving her a wink. She waited until she heard a door shut and turned to Masha who looked white as a ghost.

"You feeling ok boss?" Yang asked completely unaware of what could have happened.

"Are you stupid?! You didn't even acknowledge the Queen… it will be a surprise if I'm not dragged before the king to answer for your stupidity." Yang felt a little hurt from all that, sure she'd learned a lot, but who people were by face value was hard. The woman could very well have just been a wealthy individual.

"Sorry. I guess I'll keep quiet for a while and only speak when spoken to." Yang was jesting, but when Masha told her that it would be for the best Yang frowned. She walked herself to a corner and leaned there patiently. A few men approached, mostly ones in red and gold, asking her what her name was, if she had a husband, some didn't even ask that much and request her to share their tent.

Each man was met with a laugh before a certain one approached, a large man in width, black and gold and brown were his colours with a beard and hair beginning to grey. She knew who he was by who was with him, knights clad in iron and steel, stag and lion sigils embroidered on their armour. This was the King, the one she really shouldn't speak out against or try to joke with.

She watched his eyes travel her body and squinted as she saw a smirk come to his face. She felt revolted that such a man could command such power. Doesn't he have a wife? The hell is this fool thinking? She asked herself, waiting until he was out of sight before sighing. Masha had been watching her closely and let out a visible sigh of relief.

It was hours later, late afternoon when everything began to get exciting. A golden-haired boy who to Yang looked a little sickly was carried into the inn with herself being pushed aside. She strained to listen as the boy spoke up about a little girl, a butcher's boy, and then finally a wolf. But it wasn't just any wolf, but a direwolf.

They were long extinct in Yang's world of Remnant, but here there were apparently some still around. Of how many she didn't know, but as the queen started asking for the wolf's head she glared at her. Thankfully she was too busy tending to her injured child to notice Yang's gaze, but there was one other in the room that did see it.

A man who had brown hair and grey eyes, his beard had greys coming through showing his age just like the king. His face seemed long and serious yet showed nothing more than a small fear.

"Ned! Find your girl and bring me that wolf!" The king demanded. The man called Ned gave a small bow and moved towards the exit as the queen screamed that a search party should be sent out.

"I'll have my men score the area and have Arya found and the wolf chained. Someone will also…"

"I want the Lannister's men looking too! Baratheon men also. Your daughter's mutt wounded our son, I'll see it butchered in return." Yang could see where the woman was coming from, the urge to protect her daughter was like Yang's urge to protect Ruby from all things bad. Killing the wolf, a direwolf at that also seemed, expected.

And so what was to be a small search ended up being a massive one with three powerful houses sending what men they had out to find a girl Arya and her wolf. Yang wanted to help, to bring the girl home and see the wolf punished.

It took three nights before the girl was finally found, a feat that Yang was most impressed with. Most of the king's company had left the inn while only the soldiers and mostly Stark ones at that remained. It was the third day that Yang had left Masha's inn and started looking herself. Many men offered their sword to guard her but she rejected all of them insisting that she was fine.

The men, some of them didn't take too kindly to this as the land was a dangerous place, a woman as attractive as her might get the attention of some more undesirable men. She reluctantly agreed but had one of each looking with her. Stark, Lannister, Baratheon, and Yang, all searching together for the remainder of the day and some of the night. Needless to say she was the last to give up and all three men acknowledged her strength of will.

Yang didn't need their acknowledgement, she knew she could handle whatever might have been lurking in the shadows, whatever man might have tried to force her into a terrifying position. She had done so before, Masha had seen first hand how easily Yang had sorted out the troublemakers in the inn.

It was during the fourth day of searching that news spread about Arya being found. Come on! Why couldn't I have found her? Yang complained to herself, huffing and putting her hands in her pockets and beginning the walk back to the castle that now housed the royal family and its honoured guests.

She arrived to see a man leaving the castle laughing to himself in gold and green. A Baratheon royal based on the fine clothing he wore, the dark black hair of the Baratheon's too. She waited outside seeing as the door was guarded by Lannister men, men of which she had learned were a little less approachable than the other house's guards and soldiers.

From the inside she could soon hear yelling, screaming, accusations of different kinds and after a time the one called Ned, or Eddard Stark she'd later learned who he really was. The Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and Hand of the King. Three titles that made him possibly the second most powerful man in the realm as the people called it.

He looked grim, hard faced and angry, a look that Yang knew very well from when she got angry at things and people. She decided to follow him, making sure to give him a wide berth so he wouldn't notice her. She found a direwolf chained to a stake in the ground as his destination, it had a beautiful coat of fur on it. White and grey with eyes that appeared to have little to no malice in them, a direwolf that was more like a dog than a wild beast.

Yang remained in the shadows of the nearby forest for a time, wondering what the Hand of the King was doing with the animal. It was some minutes later that another man arrived, a man carrying a large sword that Lord Stark hesitantly gripped and pulled from its scabbard. It shone brilliantly, the pattern visible even from several meters away and Yang found herself wanting to hold it, but it was quickly washed from her mind as the man raised it up.

Without thinking she dashed forwards, the man who brought the sword tried to stop her, grabbing the hilt of his sword and trying to pull his sword free. She knocked him down with one punch and grabbed the blade of the large sword. Fuck! She hissed and removed her hand, holding onto the flat of the blade with her fingertips. Ned just looked at her in shock, unsure of what her plan was, but it was him that was questioned.

"Why are you killing that wolf? What did it do?" She asked as blood trickled down the blade.

"The king ordered me to kill it to satisfy his wife's demands. It did nothing, but what would a Lannister care?" He shot back, trying and failing to pull Ice back from the golden-haired girl's grasp.

"So it did nothing and deserves to die? And you tell me, I find them quite agitating myself." Yang answered receiving a curious look from the Lord. Finally, broke that stony expression.

"You aren't a Lannister? But that gold hair." Yang glared at him which is when he noticed her lilac eyes. "Targaryen?" He added to the end, the second time he encountered someone who resembled a Targaryen in some manner.

"You mean those dragon people that people are always talking about, right? Bzzt! Wrong." She pulled the blade to one side, so they could speak more openly, but as she did his guard got back to his feet, his sword rasping as it escaped the scabbard containing it.

Lord Stark looked perplexed as he thought about the person he left back at Winterfell and now this golden bombshell that was restricting his ability to use Ice completely. The man growled while Yang smiled at him and waved at him with her free hand, a yellow bracelet resting comfortably, hiding a weapon that would be alien to them.

"Jory, put your sword away. I believe this girl will not harm me." Yang turned back to him and smirked. She waited until Jory's sword was back where it rested before carefully pushing Eddard's blade away and letting go. She looked to her hand frowning at the blood that had spilled. Blasted thing cut right through my aura.

"Such faith in a stranger. Most men here just want piece of ass, then again that was your girl who was missing?" She questioned him.

"So tell me already, why has it been sentenced?" Lord Stark relented and told her of what had transpired. The reason why his daughter Arya ran and was missing for three nights. She had chosen to hide away in fear of getting in trouble because her direwolf Nymeria was the one the bit and scarred the crown prince. Yang had heard this name Nymeria as it was the wolf they were all hunting, but she'd also overheard that the screams from within the hall were ones from a girl pleading for Lady's life.

He went on to tell her how he believed that Arya was telling the truth while Prince Joffrey was lying, and Sansa was trying to remain neutral between her betrothed and her family. Hearing that Arya's own sister was against her made her angry, more than a little. Sure, sisters fought like she and Ruby had many times. But to choose a boy, even a prince over her own sister.

"Your daughter, the older one. She sounds like a fool." She heard Jory growl as she insulted a future Lady, possibly the future Queen of what was the Seven Kingdoms. Yet Lord Stark remained silent before asking her another question.

"So may I kill the wolf, my king commands it." Jory froze at this, his Lord asking a mere peasant girl if he, the Hand of the King was allowed to do something.

"No. I think I'll take it." Yang said, curling some of her golden hair in her fingers and looking at the wolf who tilted her head. "It looks nice, peaceful. No need for it to die, and besides, it wasn't the one that defended its owner right? Shall we say it was gone when you got here?"

"Robert wouldn't believe that. We'd need something more convincing." Eddard said which brought a smirk to Yang.

"I've been wanting to knock around a Lord for a while. Knights get old, they all think they're so tough. And noblemen are just boring and weak." Jory charged at the taunt and Yang reacted like she expected it. Glancing the sword aside after activating her gauntlets she laid him out with a swift one two combo.

Looking up to Lord Stark she smiled, and he nodded. She was glad he understood what was necessary. With a hard right, harder than necessary he was punched to the ground. He remained there more in shock than anything else. Blood tickled his nose and upper lip as he watched her unchain the wolf and pat it.

"What's your name, girl?" He crocked as he pushed himself to on knee.

"Name for an answer." She responded, already beginning to walk away from him. "What is that?" She pointed to the sword that had cut her hand. Eddard blinked, and in that moment, knew she was not of his world, she was like the other that he left behind.

"Valyrian steel. Your name?"

"Yang. Yang Xiao Long." She turned her head back looking at him with one lilac eye and a smirk on her face. Her golden hair flowed like a mane behind her. She had one stop to make before she would move on, she needed the money she'd made and the backpack that had accompanied her to this land, this world.

Eddard

The questioning and the mocking of Lord Stark was heard all through the camp when a guard let slip that he'd been assaulted. Some claimed that he was unfit to be Hand of the King if he could be bested so easily, yet others also defended him, the man who had killed Ser Arthur Dayne. None but Lord Stark and the those around the king knew what really happened, or what Eddard told them.

"It was a surprise attack your grace. We were taken from behind as I went to behead the poor creature." Eddard told his king while in the presence of King Robert, Queen Cersei, along with an assortment of Baratheon guards.

"Lies. You wanted to spare the wolf and now you've fabricated a story." Cersei hissed from beside her husband who was visibly annoyed by the entire situation.

"How many men was it Ned?" Robert asked with a deep voice. Eddard didn't answer, appearing weak before the King and his old friend would be fine, but in from of the Lannister woman was something he wouldn't allow.

"May Her Grace be taken back to her quarters under guard first?" He asked making it sound at least like there were many and he was at least somewhat worried about her protection.

"You think you can order me Stark? Answer the Kin…."

"Go Cersei, this is something we men must discuss, privately." Robert knew he'd be yelled at later, but he was the king, he could do whatever he wanted after all.

Cersei stormed from the room with red and gold flickering through the door, her long golden hair reminding Eddard of the girl that had assaulted him. Assaulted being used lightly as it was their plan even if the girl enjoyed it.

"Come Ned, you can speak now." The room was empty save for the two old friends, and Eddard no longer feeling the need to lie spoke truthfully, mostly.

"It was single person Your Grace. I did manage to cut her hand with Ice, but it was never meant to be used in combat unless by someone with ridiculous strength."

"Go back, did you say her? It was a woman that knocked out your man and attacked you before freeing the wolf?" Robert's eyes were a mixture of anger and interest, hearing that his oldest friend was knocked down by a woman of all people.

"Yes Your Grace. She was quite strong and used only her fists." I sound like a complete fool. He thought as Robert took in the information.

"Ned, a woman put you on your ass as well as split your lip and busted you nose? It must be because of what I was forced to make you to do. Ignore it and tell me what she looked like, I'll have a bounty put on her head and the damned wolf's too." Ned bowed and smiled softly. It's not because I was distracted, maybe at first. Eddard reflected, wondering how she did make it so close to him so fast.

"You already know what Lady looks like, but even though she is the gentlest of them, she is still a direwolf. As for the girl…" Forgive me Robert. "… she had black hair and hazel eyes, looked like either a Northerner or someone from the Riverlands." He lied, giving the girl who had saved his daughter's wolf yet hurt his pride and honour the best safety he could.

"Fucking hell, putting a bounty on a girl and an animal." The king stood from his chair and walked beside Ned to the exit of the room that was the main hall. "What'll I tell my damn wife. Cersei is sure to rob me of sleep tonight Ned."

"Apologies Your Grace."

"For fuck… Ned, we're alone, drop this Your Grace crap." He clapped his friend on the back, breaking Eddard's worry and causing him to smile. "And I need an excuse not an apology."

"A Northerner fanatic, someone that is now being hunted by both the King's men and his Hand's in the north?" He offered, doing his best to give Robert something.

"A fanatic that would not see the symbol of your house killed for something it didn't do then. Ned, you need to get better at making stories. Kings landing isn't as honest as the north." With Robert's warning and the course of action set, a search for a direwolf and a girl with black hair and hazel eyes set to begin with bounties on both of their heads.

Only one thing worried Eddard, what if some innocent was to be harmed by mistake. Either way as the hand the key witness he'd be able to deny whoever it was brought before him and if that girl Yang couldn't control the wolf then it would likely find its own end.

Pyrrha

Pyrrha had been keeping track of the time she was on that world for. Over three weeks now and with everyday that passed she grasped onto the Dothraki language a little better. Understanding their customs was a lot easier than learning the language but hearing about their customs she found herself strongly against many of them.

Slavery had long ended within Remnants societies, or at least in public. She'd heard rumours of the underground criminals still using slaves, predominantly Faunus too. She found their way of cutting their braids off after a loss to be odd yet noble somehow. Their ways of treating women upset her in many ways, as did the age of which they were expected to start, breeding the old woman had told her. Once they had their first blood they were often said to be given to a strong male, the stronger the more honourable for the young girl.

But Pyrrha couldn't imagine herself being given to a man after her first blood. Pyrrha had been twelve when it first happened to her, and hearing all of this now made her feel sick. She told the old woman who had eventually revealed her name to be Ezzi, which stood for some kind of learning.

And so for over three weeks Ezzi and Pyrrha remained constant companions with the older female teaching Pyrrha everything she could and answering many questions since she was the strongest in the village. They spoke in Dothraki when Pyrrha knew how and with her being encouraged to do so and not really having much of an option it only helped her learn faster. The need to be able to understand those around her giving her added drive to develop the understanding of the language and culture.

Though she did not only spend time with Ezzi, during parts of the day she would often go out and perform sword and spear patterns to keep her skills as sharp as she could. Physical training which included running up the many sand dunes and hills which stretched as far as the eye could see, but she never let the village slip from sight. She had faith in her sense of direction, but after sweating out a lot of fluid it was important she get some upon returning to the village.

The first time she returned to the village and gulped down a quarter of a bucket she was scolded and had things thrown at her. It was after another long discussion that she found out why. A simple reason really and one that Pyrrha publicly apologised for. Water was scarce and if she was to drink as much as she did then she'd need to help in the gathering of said water. And so, the four-time Champion of Mistral helped the women and children gather water every second day.

Using her semblance was out of the question as Ezzi spoke about magic and how it was apparently real. Pyrrha inquired and got answers, answers that told about how the Dothraki distrusted any kind of magic, hence the reason Pyrrha refused to use her semblance whenever any of the villagers were around.

Yet the two things about Pyrrha hat surprised the Dothraki villagers was one her strength, and two her kindness. The apology and offer to help was unexpected, her preference to help the children was also odd, even going as far as to teach many of the young boys a few moves to help them in the future. A couple of girls tried to join in too whenever Pyrrha had finished teaching the boys, but their father's or guardians found out and quickly ended that.

It was a woman's place to provide their family with cooking and cleaning and raising children while the males were charged with hunting and fighting. She got many glares for this since she had beaten their leader effortlessly. Yet their watchful eyes failed to bother her as she was a warrior at heart, a powerful and intelligent woman who would refuse to give in to their strange customs. She was a woman who would forge her own path and pick her own husband, if she ever found someone she considered worthy.

Yet one day the peaceful nature of the village and Pyrrha's slow warming to the people within came to an end. A large number of men on horses were reported to the west and the villagers began to rush about taking down tents and gathering their supplies. At first Pyrrha was yelling out in English to try and get them to explain what the commotion was all about. It was only once she took a minute to stop and think that she tried to ask in their native tongue.

"What is going on? Why are you all in such a panic to pack everything up?" Her question seemed to fall on deaf ears, so she yelled again, and then a third time before being answered by the leader.

"Dothraki riders come, murderous warriors of a Khalasar. We move before the main force find us." Orgo the leader responded. But… The women and children… the sick and old… Pyrrha's mind turned towards them as she knew these people didn't have enough horses for everyone. And thanks to Ezzi telling her what would happen to smaller or even large settlements if a Khalasar befell them was terrifying.

Women raped by many different riders and left more often than not, carrying the child of one of the men that rode them against their will. Males were slaughtered so they'd never be a threat in the future, the boys too even the ones barely old enough to recall the tragic events. Those who did survive were made into slaves to be used by the Dothraki or to be sold to other masters. Pyrrha clenched her fists and made her decision.

"I will stay and hold them off while you lead your people away." The look she got from Orgo was one of confusion. Groaning in embarrassment she spoke again, this time in Dothraki tongue. "I will stay and hold them off while you lead your people away."

This time Orgo understood and moved before her. He put a hand on her shoulder and of all things bowed. Pyrrha knew that bowing especially from a male to a female in their culture was never done. It was only done from females to males, and from males only to those who were of greater strength as a sign of submission or respect to their Khal or leader.

With a final glance the two parted, the two strongest. One to lead and one to defend. Milo and Akouo floated into her hands where she gripped them fondly. Her only two friends that came from Remnant to this harsh and old world.

The sand and dirt kicked up as the horse riders approached, Pyrrha narrowed her eyes tempted to turn Milo into its rifle form and start taking a few of them out. Save your ammo, you don't know what else this world holds as of yet. Deciding to let Milo maintain in its spear-like appearance she waited. With her aura activated she was about to find out how good these Dothraki riders were.

The first approached, the first of many. His arakh glided through the air with the added speed the horse gave his swing. But it was too slow for the off worlder who merely leaned to her right while creating a sweeping motion wither let arm that held Milo, that motion saw the horses left legs removed. A horrid scream came from the horse, but she had no time to stop as the second and third came for her. Each had seen the way Pyrrha moved and how she'd cut down their fellow rider but were eager to avenge him.

Neither succeeded and met similar ends. One had his leg removed while he rode by, Pyrrha's blade slicing it cleanly yet scratched the horse too. The rider fell to the side crying out and speaking words that Pyrrha was yet to learn. The third rider got the biggest surprise as Pyrrha easily jumped up higher than his horse and with a nonchalant expression to boot. Her spear now coated with blood seem mostly red, the gold and bronze hidden by the fluid of her enemies. Even more so when the third had it driven through his chest.

She landed next to him looking at the sand and how the blood crept through it turning it red. Whinnies around her brought her back to the present in time to see a rider lining her up with his bow. It wasn't a weapon she'd often gone against, but it was far slower than a gun. She let the arrow soar past her and threw her spear with ease. The rider clutched his stomach as the next was struck in his helmet by Akouo.

A hand on her shoulder spun her to the face of a dirty looking almond-eyed man. There was blood on his face and sand covering his leather clothing. An arakh in his dominant hand was raised and began to fall before Pyrrha saw it, or so the hopeful former rider thought. Pyrrha caught his wrist and although a female, her upbringing saw her trained by the best and most skilled fighters her parents and school could find. A prodigy amongst a world where hunters were usually the deadliest humans alive, and she was thought to potentially surpass all of them, the invincible girl.

Twisting his arm until he screamed and dropped his weapon, Pyrrha caught the arakh and opened his belly. His entrails spilled forth onto the ground and her bronze greaves. She felt sick the moment she did it, his skin being so soft and easily punctured. But there were still many more riders to deal with and they require her immediate attention.

The sand might have been a disadvantage, as well as being on foot while her attackers were on horseback. But as the time ticked by and the riders continued to circle her and attack in waves that grew larger each time, Pyrrha found the heat beating down on her, the thirst for water growing and the slow fatigue of her body. She didn't know how long she was fighting or how many men she had killed or maimed, but when the last few scattered while she stood tall.

Sweat and blood, spit and entrails, her armour and other garments were dirtied with all of it and the sand that had miraculously found its way everywhere and was already irritating her. Emerald eyes scanned her surroundings, there was nothing by sand, dirt, a little grass and a small human and horse graveyard created by her own two hands.

Milo's tip slipped into the sand easily and Akouo created a soft swoosh as it's face met more sand. Pyrrha's now empty hands covered with blood came up to her face as her knees buckled. The victor and death dealer fell to the earth with her knees sinking in. Her rear end sat atop her heels as she doubled over letting out a pained screech.

She wasn't hurt in the least, her aura remained mostly full, but the pain she was experiencing wasn't physical. Inside, her mind was stirring up all kinds of emotions and forcing her body to react. Guilt and sorrow, pride that swelled quickly in the defence of the villagers had her feeling sick and gagging between sobs. The four-time Champion of Mistral, that day marked the first time she'd killed anything other than a Grimm. And the fact she'd killed other humans hit her hard.

Before she could stand she added more contents to the sand as she emptied her stomach more than once. She was glad the others, the villagers couldn't see her, glad that nobody could see her but Oum himself. But then, why had he sent her there, had he cast out one of his own creations to be tormented in this new world. All that surrounded Pyrrha was the death she'd dealt first hand, and a much larger force, the rider's Khalasar that what few riders fled would be sure to contact. Mum, dad… Jaune. Help me. But none would hear Pyrrha's prayers.

Ok, so the reason Pyrrha's POV was so short is that the next chapter will be heavily involving her. So for Pyrrha fans, don't worry. As for other POVs, you'll all just have to wait and see. Thanks for reading and if you want to be a Beta reader let me know. Reviews are welcome and encourage and constructive criticism to help me develop my writing ability. I hope you all enjoyed reading after a far to bigger gap between posting chapters.