Part 9
Into Ash
The sun had stumbled by the time they reached land, the reign of darkness absolute and indifferent. At least the blackness helped obscure their arrival, so Ren brought the craft down without any fuss, in a crudely barricaded and abandoned outpost torn apart decades ago.
Apparently, it was a listening outpost created by the Atlesian military during the Color War, built quietly on a rugged and rocky peninsula in what was considered a defensible position. The jagged breaches in the forty-foot walls, the claw marks that cut inches deep into the concrete, the shattered, battered, twisted guns and weapons told the rest of the sorrowful tale. One of the many monuments of truth that riddled the forsaken land - nothing human lasted long in this realm.
And we're going to be backpacking here, Jaune thought with a hysterical tint, realizing that not even a dragon could have breached the defenses in such a way. Something much more massive cleaved these walls.
As Blake and Nora covered the transport in camouflage fabric, Jaune ducked into what he assumed was the command station of the outpost, only to discover a tangled mess of metal and concrete. He stared at the clawed and soot-scorched walls and mangled, old school electronics, and chuckled quietly at the overturned and yet unbroken chair. It was almost like a museum exhibit, an incoherent jumble of broken props, but the acidic tang of oil and corrosion that lingered in the air gave it authenticity.
But no blood. How strange and disturbing.
But the few minutes of curiosity ended quickly. The base was sweeped and their transport obscured, and the hunters rushed out into the moonlit world. Expecting the worst...
And found only silence.
Emptiness.
Nothing. The trees stood petrified in the white moonlight, the twigs and grasses still and stony. They crossed a stream and Jaune swore it made no noise, more oil or viscous slime than water. No wind stirring the leaves or echoing across the sky: It was as if time had stopped, and only him and his comrades were left alive.
A perfect example of apocalypse. Hell, had it happened while they were flying?
It was unsettling, to hear your own breath, and only your breath. Jaune thought back to an article he had read about absolute silence and it's malicious properties, but he never realized how much of it was true. He had taken the world for granted: the constant clash of sound and movement was rife in every scene, from his family's fields to the frosted tundra of Atlas to the cluttered streets of Vale. No matter where you walked on Remnant, the same sound of life seemed to shimmer and pulse. Here, there was nothing.
All he could do was strain and suffer as the trees grew numerous around them, their pasty, ashy brown turning pitch black as they blocked out the moon's glow.
"A forest in decay..."
Jaune saw it too, the trees starving by the soil and poisoned from the air. This soft ash that drifted gently down and coated the forest floor; the detritus of eruptions, cataclysms, and other events of great magnitude. Jaune took the moment to scale one of the monolithic trees during a pause in their journey.
Nothing but trees, towards every horizon.
No identifiable source of this sickly, oily sediment. A residue of dust that seemed to cling and congeal, preserve and glue. It would be hell to wash out of his hair, that was certain.
He fell downwards quickly, back to his friends. The young hunter pulled close and found sanctuary in his comrades.
"Can't even go a hundred yards without thinking that I'm turning to stone." He whispered, his voice echoing out silently into the world, as profound and unprecedented as a scream.
"Yeah." Blake whispered back, "It's… disturbing, isn't it?"
"Thatsssss such an understatement," Nora sassed as she jabbed her finger at Blake, "This is a whole new level of bad."
"Qrow managed to travel across this alone?" Jaune muttered.
"Explains how Raven's skin is so pale." Yang added, rubbing the strange dust between her fingers.
Blake's eyes widened.
"Oh... I'm taking the longest bath when I get back."
The rest of the group smiled and tittered with the statement, but before long they had finished their food and consolidated their strength. Just like that, they were moving once again, quietly tormented by the sound of nothing.
The sun was already shining by then, but funnily enough Jaune preferred the dark. The sun was abrasive, cruel, and blinding. Every figment and mote was illuminated and reflective, hard on the eyes and hazy, standing out and demanding attention. The plastery shade of the trees relented as shards of harsh light jabbed down from the canopy, burning patches on the ground.
Thankfully, just as the team of hunters began to travel out of the clogging shade of the woods, the sun was already sinking back down the horizon, its sharp beams arcing skywards in some vain and spiteful attempt to scorch the sky.
But the shattered moon reclaimed the sky without any complaints. The shadows reigned supreme once again, the gentle suffocation of the darkness so comforting in comparison to the violent light of day.
And still not a single monster to welcome them. Not a single soul.
"So weird." Yang grumbled.
"Very weird." Blake added.
"TOO. WEIRD." moaned Nora, mental state more frazzled and antsy than usual.
"Grimm are attracted to negativity... Maybe we're being too positive?" Weiss joked, her ponytail swaying as she came to a halt with the rest of the group.
"Grimm aren't afraid of good feelings," Jaune responded with shrug, deadpanning Weiss's attempt at humor, "It's not like our mood is some repellant to them."
"Stands to reason that this unnatural continent has… Unnatural properties." Ren reminded the group, fastening a canteen onto Nora's backpack after taking a swig.
"Stay alert, then. We know there's more to this place, so there's no excuse for getting caught off guard." Ruby reminded the teams.
So they moved forward, despite the silent, foreboding emptiness of the land. Powdered, skeletal soil turned into waxy plates of muscovite and biotite, a glassy, obsidian plain that stretched out towards mountains in the horizon.
"Can we make it before sunrise?" Jaune whispered to Ruby. Daytime in a plain would give them away with a single glance. This was a risk.
"We can."
"But what if they're waiting for on the mountains? We'd be caught exhausted."
Ruby was frowning, staring out into the flat-lands and thinking of an answer.
"We'd be warmed up for the fight."
Jaune just didn't want to risk it. Part of him hated taking risks. Part of him was always against these crazy ideas, these crazy thoughts. It was the part that made him throw up in the airship headed to Beacon. Always a voice of clarity and disgust, drowned out by passion.
Don't falsify that record. Don't steal Crocea Mors. Don't lie to them. Stop lying. Just withdraw. Stop being so dependent on her. Why bother with love. Stay focused. Stay calm. Get over it. Get over her. Don't do anything rash. Stop lying.
And right now, that voice sighed: Don't you dare fucking charge across this lowland, moron.
It was a voice that reminded him he was sane, but at the same time powerless. And now even more weak, dependent on a dead woman's comfort:
"It will all be fine."
How could Pyrrha be so certain? Her voice so calming and powerful, pushing him forward against his wishes? How he wished these questions to stop, so he could focus on her.
"Alright, let's go."
And so they recklessly charged forth. Into another strange, twisted landscape. A lifeless savanna covered in ice and grime.
"A prairie turned to glass…"
The earth shattered and cleaved at their feet, crunching and splintering noise out into the inert atmosphere every time their feet crashed down on the delicate ground. Jaune winced with every step, this hostile and desolate environment starting to eat away at his psyche.
He felt like he was making some horrible mistake, as usual: behind him was forest, ocean, and home. In front of him were mountain ranges full of darkness, fire and death. The dust seemed to drift down in larger quantities, to the point where the smallest gusts of wind brought forth irritable walls of sand, and Jaune wasn't sure if this was because they were approaching the source of dead dust, or if it was because the ash was blocked out by the trees.
It reminded him of the time he walked on the frozen plateau looming over Atlas, the famous road where thin air and empty stomachs claimed hundreds of lives. But unlike then, there was no Northern Lights to find solace in, no stupid music to drown out the terrifying anxiety of his heart. Only the road ahead, the road home behind, and hallowed ground beneath.
The sky began to brighten, the night sky turning the most comforting shade of navy, a warning that the harsh sunlight was soon to return. By then they had reached the other side of the flats, and found security in the shadow of a massive boulder. They crouched in the shadow as the first beams of light cut through the landscape, reflecting off of the plains stretched out before them to create a shimmering mirror of heat and light. Straight through the picturesque mirage, a discordant line cut its path through the flawless landscape, created by their vandalous journey through the fragile land.
The rest of the group realized the danger as well - anyone with eyes could trace their path to the very rock that they were hiding under like earwigs. So, after a generous pause, they moved out once more, hiding in the shrinking shadows, racing the rise of the infernal sun and its relentless gaze.
It was less running and climbing, more bouldering. The hills wept rock and stone as crystals of dust pushed up out of their cocoons. Sheer walls of thunder, wind and fire glowed dully behind thin layers of sediment and mineral. Three perfect shots from Crescent Rose could release enough energy to vaporize a small town - and these unstable monoliths were...
"Weiss!" Jaune hissed, stepping forward to jerk the huntress back. She was transfixed on a purple dust crystal as large as a automobile, so pure that the smallest of scratches could set it off.
"What?" Weiss complained as she stepped back and shrugged off his grip, "I've handled high grade Dust before. As heiress of the Schnee Company I've had extensive experience with raw Dust deposits of this calibr-"
"This ain't Schnee Company," Jaune grumbled as the rest of the group gathered around the two, "and we've passed like forty of these monsters. What's the deal?"
"It's just… this was my father's dream, what the kingdoms tried to harvest." Weiss remarked sadly, "Can you fathom how much power this is? Four of these shards could power Vale for a year… Or level it."
And yet, within a couple hundred yards, at least ten of these massive crystals jutted out from the earth.
"And we've only scratched the surface. We've only passed, like, one range?"
Jaune knew what they were all feeling, and even Pyrrha nestled close to him, quiet and in awe.
"It's the world's biggest dust dig imaginable, sitting out in the sun for anyone to take, and nobody in civilization ever talks about it - no myths, nothing." Yang sighed, raising her hands in a shrug, "Oh, and we've only scratched the surface… yeah Weiss, we know, we know. Veeeerry spooky and depressing and unsettling."
"I'm not depressed!" Weiss pouted hotly, crossing her arms and justifying herself, "I just know it's on everyone's mind, and it's something that needs to be said. We can't just shut up and pretend these aren't here."
"And so it's said," Blake agreed, "It's certainly disturbing just like the rest of this accursed place. Now can we all move on out the highly unstable minefield?"
"That's assuming if it ever ends from here on out." Ren remarked, dropping down to their level.
Blake opened her mouth, before shutting it tightly in thought. When Ren spoke, people thought: and when Ren implied something, it usually was the case. Finally, she spoke.
"Oh bother."
The dust, once white, then grey, was now a uncanny, blackish purple. The sun burned in the distance, white at its core, red expanding, and a cool, purplish hue extending from its skin. The sky was a work of art, and the earth tried to keep up: The mountains seemed carved and sculpted, worn down by strange forces.
Every time they rose over another ridge, the Shattered World and all of its fragmented glory peeked out more and more. Massive formations jutted out over the landscape, amidst fields of dust and crystal. What a beautiful place to be the nexus of such darkness.
A shame they never reached those otherworldly plains, never uncovered the secrets that lay within. That was for another day.
Amidst these hills of iron and dust, which sloped and drooped down as solemnly as standard tombstone, the journeying hunters stopped. Their backs straightened and their eyes narrowed, and labored breathing dropped to a whisper.
And then it was only that accursed silence, the motes of dust now as thick as petals in the breeze, drifting through the valley.
On one side, the heroes.
On the other, a pale figure draped in black. The words were scarcely a whisper, crashing down all around them in suffocating tranquility.
"Welcome, Ruby Rose… we have much to discuss."
End Chapter
