Author's Greetings:
No, I still don't own RWBY. If I did, I wouldn't be uploading to Fanfiction, now, would I?
Eleven months. Jesus.
It took me a while, to say the least. And it took me that long for multiple reasons, but the primary one was my trying to come to terms with how to consistently write despite so many distractions and prior obligations I'm gaining as I go through college. Luckily, I think I've finally struck a happy medium with handwriting my first drafts and then transcribing them into a computer.
Hell, even this message was written down in my notebook before it was typed down here. Don't want to get any more distracted by my computer screen than I have to.
But man. The kittens are two years old now. And this story's gained a positive reputation far greater than even I could have anticipated.
I thank you all again for your patience.
Now, without any further ado, here's the next installment you've been waiting for.
Hope ya'll enjoy.
xXx
Black Sun Kittens
Written by M.E. Grimm
(Chapter Nine: Heart of a Lion)
("I Bet My Life" – Part 5)
"At the end of the day, day
My momma told me don't let no one break me
Let no one break me…
At the end of the day, day
I'm walking with the heart of a lion…"
Kid Cudi, "Heart of a Lion"
xXx
Directly after Chapter Eight...
xXx
"What do you think your abilities are, Dusk?" asked Grimbeorn. He didn't turn around as he asked the question; more asked the general area as they continued down the ancient stone steps. The sky was just beginning to transition from morning to afternoon but behind the thick, grey veil of cloud and mist, the difference was hard to tell. Afternoon was just a brighter version of the same prevailing grey.
Oh, right, Dusk thought, Grimbeorn's question. "I… I'm not sure."
"What can you do with it?"
Around a curve of the trail, the forest gave way. Another, smaller dojo stood roughly one-third the size of Grimbeorn's home. This place looked more serious, sturdier than the home Dusk walked from. The weight of years long since passed emanated about the area.
"I… I can see people's inner thoughts. Their feelings, their… true colors…"
Grimbeorn glanced over his shoulder at Dusk.
Dusk shrugged. "I dunno. That's just what I see."
Grimbeorn nodded to himself, turned back around. "Anything else?"
Dusk squinted. "I can see people's dreams, and interact with them."
"Is that what you were doing with your mother when you woke up?"
Dusk's eyes shot up immediately. "How did…?"
Grimbeorn chuckled. "It was a guess. Didn't think I'd be right."
Dusk puffed his cheeks at the old swordsman, but continued walking.
"Anything else?" asked Grimbeorn.
They reached the door to the dojo. Dusk noted the wood of the building seemed almost more well-taken-care-of than the actual house. He wondered what the place was for.
"I… can do more than experience people's dreams," said Dusk. "I can see their memories as though they were my own. And sometimes more than that; I get… visions… of things that haven't happened yet. Like what I saw before my mother left to come here, and before I woke up and walked around last night..."
Grimbeorn was silent for a moment, his eyes skirting up and down Dusk in a strange, silent evaluation. When done, he pulled open the door and held it for Dusk.
Dusk walked inside. The interior was beautiful, wide and spacious with a vast arrangement of melee weapons of all sorts scattered along the far-off walls. It was a training room, Dusk inferred. Ancient paintings in an art style Dusk had never seen draped from the ceiling above, depicting a snarling ronin with a wolf tail donning beautiful samurai armor and a gleaming jade katana on a verdant hillside. Some of these displayed scenes of triumphant warfare on distant lands. Others showed the ronin on his knees, lamenting the bodies of fallen ones he may have called comrades or loved ones.
Others depicted a rosy-cheeked woman with a raccoon's tail standing tall by his side, making him smile and laugh. A particularly beautiful one, draped on a wall to Dusk's right, showed the samurai standing proud before his kneeling wife. Her belly bloomed with child beneath her kimono, and both she and her husband smiled as though to laugh as their numerous children bickered and teased and rough-housed before their illustrious home.
Dusk noticed in every one of the paintings, the ronin's right arm was made of what looked like pure jade.
"What is this place?" asked Dusk.
Grimbeorn breathed in, exhaled. "An heirloom of a dying legacy. My family's armory."
"Wow…" Dusk looked around at the illustrious room once again. "It's beautiful."
"Thank you." Grimbeorn kneaded Dusk's shoulder softly, then breathed another long sigh. "Few people who've trained under this roof are still alive."
A shiver rattled through Dusk.
("Faster, Blake! Come on! Faster! Move your feet! Move your feet!")
("Adam!")
("ADAM!")
"Dusk."
Dusk blinked to awareness. He took in a deep breath and anchored himself with how aged the dojo was. It was not the bright, spotless training area he'd just envisioned. Looking up at Master Grimbeorn, he was an aged man approaching the evening of his life; not the dark-haired adult he'd just seen pacing with authority in his step and power in his youth.
His mother wasn't in the dojo with him right now, nor was she a child as he'd just seen her.
Adam was dead.
Dusk blinked again, and his eyes were his own once more. "S-Sorry, master… I…"
"It's of no fault of yours, boy," said Grimbeorn.
Dusk shook his head, huffing in frustration. "I wish I could make this stop. I wish I could sleep again…"
Grimbeorn said nothing, only continued to knead Dusk's shoulder. The old swordsman ended with a gentle pat, then nudged Dusk forward. "Come. There's something I wish to try with you."
Dusk saw little else to do but follow, and so kept pace with Grimbeorn. As the high racks of sheathed blades passed by him, Dusk wondered for a moment how those blades near the top were supposed to be reached, but was interrupted as he saw Grimbeorn stop in front of a rack of wooden swords instead. The old swordsman's hand roamed up and down the rack, choosing one near the middle and weighing it in one hand. After a moment's consideration, he offered it to Dusk.
Dusk considered asking why, but curiosity got the better of him, and he carefully took the wooden blade. It felt slightly heavy to him, and the blade length was almost too large for him. There was a strange familiarity to it…
"How does it feel?" asked Grimbeorn.
Dusk held it with both hands before himself, testing his grip on it and wondering if he was doing anything right. "I can't tell."
"Have you never held a katana blade before?"
Dusk's lips drew a flat, confused grimace.
"Your mother uses one to fight, how do you not…?" Grimbeorn shook his head. "Nevermind, that's not the point. Come, follow me."
Grimbeorn waved Dusk towards the middle of the practicing hall where a circle in the fabric prompted Dusk to stay within. Grimbeorn stood across from Dusk, folding his flesh-and-blood arm behind his back.
Grimbeorn said, "I want you to hit me as hard as you can."
Dusk squinted at Grimbeorn. "What?"
"I said," repeated Grimbeorn, unfurling his jade arm before Dusk, "I want you to hit me with that practice blade as hard as you can."
Dusk considered this for a moment, then shook his head. "Alright, then…"
"Dusk, there is literally no way you can hurt me. Just do it."
Dusk prepared the sword in his grip, making sure it was secure in his hands. Then, he focused on Grimbeorn, breathed, and lunged forward with a forceful cry to bring the blade down. The sword collided with Grimbeorn's jade arm, lifted at the last second to block the blow with a force Dusk hadn't expected. There was a low, throbbing hum that pulsed through the practice blade. Glancing up, Dusk saw the crystal arm glowing with power out from where his sword made contact; as though it were absorbing the force of his attack.
Grimbeorn's eyes opened after a moment of stillness, and he flexed his jade fist open and shut. The glowing of the jade arm faded, and the old swordsman lifted an intrigued brow. "Curious…"
"What?" asked Dusk, "What's curious?"
Grimbeorn hesitated a moment, then waved Dusk to follow. They came to a stop again before the rack of wooden swords. He held out an open hand to Dusk, and Dusk returned the wooden blade to Grimbeorn's care. He didn't say aloud he was somewhat relieved to be rid of the thing. He'd come to realize it didn't feel right in his hands, though he couldn't understand why.
"Here," said Grimbeorn, presenting a new, smaller wooden blade which, in the old master's hand, seemed to be the size of a dagger. Even at first glance, Dusk could tell this blade would fit him much better. Sure enough, when he held it in both hands, examined how it felt in his grip and its weight as he swung it, Dusk felt exponentially more at ease.
It almost seemed to have been made for him.
"Does that feel better?" asked Grimbeorn.
"Yes, master." Dusk gripped the blade in his little fists, twirled it in small circles about his pivoting wrist. "This feels much better."
Grimbeorn gave an approving hum, then walked back to the center of the training mat, wordlessly expecting Dusk to follow. When Dusk stopped across from Grimbeorn, he offered his jade arm out to Dusk.
"Again."
Dusk curled like a coiled spring, remembering his mother's-
(Fast and swift, snap your arm out like a whip. The blade will do the rest if your aim is true.)
-memories, then snapped into a natural twirl with another forceful shout.
The blade made solid contact again, and Dusk glanced up to see Grimbeorn's jade hand stopping the blade mere few inches from his sinewy neck. Their eyes met, and Grimbeorn smiled. There was the familiar pulse of power, the throbbing glow of Grimbeorn's jade arm. Dusk retracted the blade and bowed with a slight nod.
Grimbeorn clenched and released his fist again, and the jade glow faded after a few moments. "Very curious, indeed…"
"Sir… what's the purpose of all this? I-If you don't mind me asking, that is…"
"Curiosity, more than anything else." The old swordsman folded his arms behind his back once more and smiled mysteriously at Dusk. "Among other things..."
Dusk scowled at Grimbeorn. "Master, please…"
"Testing you. Wanted to… get a feel of what you have within you." Grimbeorn unfolded his jade arm from behind his back and held it up to examine it, turning it this way and that for Dusk to see. "The Semblance of Crystalization. The crystal is an extension of me, and I, an extension of it."
A shift of power, and Dusk was mistified to behold the jade of Grimbeorn's arm thread across his chest in lattice seams from his right to his left arm.
"It is my shield…"
Grimbeorn snapped into a defensive posture, his arms solidifying into jade. Pure crystal hands and forearms thinning into jade vines the closer to his center they went.
"... my blade…"
Grimbeorn blurred into a spinning kick. There was a sound like a high-pitched whistle, a blade arcing through the air. Grimbeorn twirled once, then drove his foot into the ground. Directly down from his heel was an outgrowth of crystal gleaming sharp in the dim light of the dojo. When Grimbeorn lifted his foot, Dusk saw the outgrowth was a perfectly formed katana blade. Sharp. Gleaming. Deadly.
"... and a conduit."
The jade blade retracted into Grimbeorn's crystal foot, then the crystal changed locations again. It surged into Grimbeorn's left arm again and before Dusk could blink, the old swordsman dropped to a low crouch, reached into the palm of his crystal hand with the other, and sliced forward at the empty space before him. Dusk didn't see when Grimbeorn summoned forth the jade blade, but there it was. Real as anything in Grimbeorn's flesh and blood hand.
And it glowed and vibrated with a latent power capable of cutting through lighting, itself.
"Amazing…" Dusk whispered.
Grimbeorn stood from his crouch, twirled the blade around, then sheathed the blade back into his jade arm. "It's been in my family bloodline for generations. Passed down from father to son since before this island was first claimed by my ancestors."
"Wow… That's incredible," said Dusk.
"It's a curse," said Grimbeorn. "One I must bear."
The ensuing silence hit Dusk in a way he hadn't expected.
"We're done here. There's something else I want to show you back at the house."
Grimbeorn turned and walked off towards the entrance of the dojo. Dusk blinked a few times before realizing Grimbeorn was leaving him and called out, "W-Wait! We're leaving? Just like that?"
Grimbeorn opened the door, then turned back around to Dusk and nodded. "Yes. Just like that. You coming or not?"
Dusk held up the wooden blade. "What do I do with this?"
"Take it with you, obviously. I don't need it. I know what my weapon is." Grimbeorn kicked the door open with a soft nudge of his heel. "Come on, boy. We're wasting time."
Dusk made it out of the training dojo just as the door shut behind him.
xXx
They made their way back to the sprawling estate, Dusk following Grimbeorn through the quiet halls in tired curiosity. He suddenly noticed he hadn't seen Goldberry all morning, and became all at once aware of her absence. "Master Grimbeorn?"
Grimbeorn acknowledged Dusk's question with a grunt.
"Uh… Where's Miss Goldberry?"
Grimbeorn glanced over his shoulder for a moment, then continued walking. "She's taking care of things on the island. She'll likely be back by midday."
"What kinds of things?"
Grimbeorn was quiet. "Cleaning up."
Dusk narrowed his eyes.
"You can either take the hint, or see things none too pleasant, boy," said Grimbeorn. "The choice is yours."
Dusk hesitated. In the ensuing lack of conversation, Grimbeorn simply focused on walking down the hall.
But Dusk, ever curious, decided he was tired of adults hiding things from him. With feline eyes, Dusk's 'sight' pulsed into the old swordsman's Aura and he saw-
(Grimbeorn sprinting through the moonless woods, taking off after the ones who'd taken his niece.)
(It wasn't long before he found them. Three dressed in black, two carrying the limp form of Goldberry towards a boat on the shore. They would not leave the island alive.)
(Before he reached the clearing of the shore, Grimbeorn saw the figure leaping down from the trees in ambush. There was only a slight halt in Grimbeorn's momentum as he pivoted on his heel, fell into a crouch, and drew the jade blade from his crystal arm. The assassin hit the ground long dead, legs and torso bisected from one another. The blade cut through Aura like heated knife through butter. The attacker didn't stand a chance. Grimbeorn pivoted again and sprinted with the fury of a warrior reawakened.)
(The assassins at the boat heard the wet thump of dead flesh as well as Grimbeorn's falling footsteps. The free assassin drew his blade and jerked his head towards the boat, urging his two teammates to hurry and-)
(A glint from the forest. A sharp whistle scratching the air. The assassin holding Goldberry's shoulders crumpled and dropped into the water twitching, a glowing jade kunai deeply lodged into his head. Goldberry's head smacked against the side of the boat and fell into the water.)
(The remaining assassins turned to where the knife was thrown. The rogue holding Goldberry's legs promptly let go, reaching for his blade strapped to his back.)
(Another flash from the forest, humming with a deadly, sharp metronome like a turbine. The assassin on the shore could barely react to the jade katana flying towards him, embedding itself into his neck.)
(Grimbeorn was upon the stuck assassin in a flash, dashing across the island shore, and grabbing hold of the blade still in the rogue's throat. The old swordsman removed it with a sideways swipe, then enveloped his target in a flurry so fast that it appeared to Dusk like a flash of jade lighting. The assassin was reduced to bloody ribbons in seconds.)
(The remaining assassin panicked in removing his gunblade and aimed it at Grimbeorn. In another flash of movement, Grimbeorn was beneath the man's arms. The jade katana had been swung, cutting through the assassin's arms as well as cutting off the front half of his head in one, clean swing. The dead man fell into the water with a splash, and Goldberry burst from the water with a deep gulp of air.)
(Grimbeorn sheathed his blade and helped Goldberry to her feet, calming her and brushing her damp bangs from her flushed face.)
("They're in the house…" breathed Goldberry. "They're in the house with Blake and Dusk, we have to go back…!")
("Did they do anything to you? Fawnie, did they hurt you?!" asked Grimbeorn.)
("Uncle, I'm fine, but they're in there with Blake and- uncle look out!")
(Goldberry ducked under her uncle's grasp and threw her hand out. There was a sharp hiss of ice crystallizing, and Grimbeorn turned to see three more assassins behind him; their weapons in their hands, primed and ready to strike. Their bodies were all completely still, however, as each molecule of water in their bodies locked up from Goldberry's simple command. Ice crawled across the black fabric of their stealth suits. White clouds of their breaths escaped into the night air, then nothing escaped at all.)
(Goldberry stepped before the three frozen assassins, her enraged glare burning like hellish blue fire. With a wave of her arms, the water which drenched her orbited in suspension around her. Goldberry lifted her hands up, clenched her fists. The water crystallized into three keenly sharp icicles, each which found their mark in the assassins' foreheads.)
("If they've laid so much as a finger on that little boy…" said Goldberry.)
(Her glare turned back up the island, and she walked back into the forest. Grimbeorn followed his niece without saying word.)
Dusk's 'sight' rushed back, and he breathed a soft gasp, stumbling against the wall.
Grimbeorn stopped in front of his room and glanced back at Dusk. "Was it pleasant?"
Dusk turned up to glare at Grimbeorn for a moment, but said nothing. He realized he was standing in front of Grimbeorn's room, and his eyes grew wide with fear.
"The room's been cleaned, boy. There's nothing in there to spook you but your own imagination," said Grimbeorn.
Dusk remained against the far wall nonetheless. He still remembered last night, and the images which came filled him with lethargy. He met Grimbeorn's eyes and shook his head.
Grimbeorn rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Suit yourself."
The old swordsman walked in and closed the door behind him. Dusk was left to the quiet of the dojo and his own thoughts. Thoughts of worry and exhaustion and death and Goldberry and last night's harrowing fight and of his mother killing and of everyone around him so casually killing, killing everything and everyone, staining their hands with blood, and wondering, fearing, that one day he'd be no different from them and that he might very well become like them and blood would be on his hands, except then it would be his fault, and he-
Dusk couldn't stand the hurricane brewing in his head, and with a soft cry forced himself to enter Grimbeorn's room.
It was as Grimbeorn had said. The room was indeed cleaned up from last night. There were no signs whatsoever of someone being killed and another being beaten within an inch of his life.
But Dusk could certainly remember it clear enough.
(And in the corner of his eye, Dusk could swear he saw a Faunus woman standing in the corner of the room. Her skin deathly pale. A hole blown into her right eye. Looking at him.)
"Dusk."
Dusk blinked, and the room was normal again. Grimbeorn was kneeling before what Dusk figured to be some kind of shrine. A few sticks of incense laid in the small stone cauldron on the desk of the shrine, right before the picture of a smiling woman with beautiful, flowing golden hair and jade green eyes.
A similar pair of jade green eyes were fixed on Dusk, belonging to Grimbeorn. "It's alright. Nothing can hurt you. It's just in your head."
Dusk breathed with a shudder, walked beside the old swordsman. "How can you be so sure it's just in my head?"
Grimbeorn shrugged. "I'm not. It just seems to know the best ways to scare you."
Dusk grimaced, unconvinced.
"Semblances are not meant to do the user harm. If this is happening, Dusk, then it simply means your Semblance is destined to become a truly powerful one." Grimbeorn held his jade palm out before Dusk, splayed his fingers. "I can't remember all the times mine almost consumed me because I couldn't control it. I was weak-willed."
"Does that mean I'm weak-willed, too?" asked Dusk.
Grimbeorn let fall his jade hand and laughed a low, rumbling chuckle. "Dusk, you probably have the strongest will I've seen in any person I've ever met on this planet. Faunus, or no."
Dusk's kitten ears perked up. "R-Really…?"
"Like I said, your Semblance is powerful," said Grimbeorn, poking Dusk's forehead with a jade finger, "but you're scared of it. Deathly so. The Semblance reflects your soul, but what happens when your soul's first bloom into maturity is entrapped in disquiet?"
Dusk's demeanor clouded again, his kitten ears drooping, and his slouch returning on its own.
Grimbeorn reached down and pulled out the bottom half of the shrine, revealing a hidden drawer. "The only one who can answer the questions you have about your inner self is you. You are the one who will conquer your inner turmoil. You are the one who will wage the war to regain the birthright of your Semblance from the fear holding it captive."
Grimbeorn reached into the hidden compartment and pulled out an ancient box before Dusk. It was roughly the size of a small table-top, and patterned with beautifully ornate markings across the wooden surface. When the box moved, a collective of loose objects rattled about within. It was offered to Dusk, and he took it carefully in his hands.
"Open it," said Grimbeorn.
Dusk opened it as Grimbeorn asked. Inside the top were two neatly arranged armies of impeccably carved ebony and ivory chess pieces held in black satin. On the bottom, Dusk ran his hand across the polished surface of a beautiful chessboard shining up at him.
"Do you play, Dusk?" asked Grimbeorn.
"My mama taught me," answered Dusk. "Why?"
Grimbeorn smiled at the mention of Blake's instruction. "So your mother taught you something useful, after all." Dusk scowled at Grimbeorn, but the old swordsman accepted the glare with a casual shrug. After, he reached over and tapped his jade finger on the chessboard. "Do you know what this is, Dusk?"
Dusk shook his head "no."
"This belonged to your grandparents, an heirloom carried by each of the Chieftians of the founding clans of the White Fang." Grimbeorn smiled warmly, then nodded at Dusk. "It belongs to you, now."
"Wha-?!" Dusk glanced back and forth between Grimbeorn and the chess set. "I-I'm not… I-I'm not a prince or anything! I'm… I'm just… I don't think I'm the one who should have something so important like this…!"
"You are the last male heir of the Belladonna clan, Dusk. It wasn't meant for anyone else but you, I promise you that."
Dusk's worried glances continued to skirt between the chess set and the old swordsman. He noticed for the first time his mother's symbol clearly emblazoned above the metal latch. He swallowed nervously. "Why didn't my mama take it…? Why do you have it and not her...?"
Grimbeorn faltered. He sat back on his haunches and breathed in a long, wizened sigh. "Dusk… Something you need to understand about your mother is that… well…"
"What?" asked Dusk.
Grimbeorn pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your mother… I'd… hoped her disdain for the White Fang wouldn't leave any future children she bore as ignorant of their lineage as you apparently are… But your mother is ashamed of the White Fang. And that is why this chessboard is in my possession and not hers. You see, Dusk… your mother helped bring into power the version of the White Fang that Adam Taurus once stood for. And I'm certain that's the reason she never told you how deep her connection with our organization went." Grimbeorn paused for a moment, then ran a hand through his greying hair. "Your mother wouldn't appreciate me telling you all this, but I feel you are owed an explanation better than the ones she's given you and your sister about what it is the White Fang existed for…"
"The White Fang helped with Salem's Cataclysm," said Dusk.
"Yes, we did," said Grimbeorn. "But before that, we tried to create a link between Human and Faunus governments. We tried to make peace, in the beginning."
"They killed lots of innocent people."
"Yes, it did. And we will never wash from our hands the sins we committed as Salem's proxies."
"Did… Did my mama ever kill innocent people?"
Grimbeorn shook his head. "I do not know, Dusk. As far as I know, she hasn't. But… your mother has a bad habit of keeping secrets, if you haven't already learned that for yourself."
Dusk turned his gaze down to the ground. "Has she… killed before-?"
"Dusk."
"Hmm?"
Grimbeorn met Dusk with a stern glare. He was silent for a moment, then said in a clear voice, "We have all killed people before. I've killed people. Goldberry has killed people before. Your mother has killed people before. I'm sure your aunts and uncles have, themselves, been faced with the inexorable situation in which they are supposed to trade one life for another's, and then followed through with said trade."
Dusk's breath hitched beneath his breast. "I don't like killing."
"Neither do I," said Grimbeorn, his voice soft. "But sometimes we must do what others cannot, for the betterment of those we hold most dear."
("I did all of this for you, Blake!")
Dusk shivered imperceptibly. His arms wrapped around himself, warming himself from a chill he hadn't felt. "I… I can't agree with you."
"Let me show you something, Dusk," said Grimbeorn.
"Show me what?" asked Dusk. But Grimbeorn was already up and walking to one of his bedside drawers, fumbling around for something within. Dusk stood and walked beside the old swordsman just as Grimbeorn took out something which looked like a leather collar to toss it onto the bed.
"That," said Grimbeorn, pointing at the collar. "Look at that and tell me what you see, Dusk."
Dusk reached for the worn leather collar, but hesitated. He could feel something emanating from the object, like crude oil sliding slick and invisible to everyone but him.
"What is it?" asked Dusk.
Grimbeorn glanced at Dusk fleetingly, then went back to rummaging through the bedside drawer. "Pick it up. Look at it with your own two eyes and tell me exactly what you see."
Dusk could see a metal buckle of some make on the collar, but it was facing away from him. He needed to turn it to see what was engraved on the front, and to turn it, Dusk needed to touch it.
Mustering up his courage, Dusk took a few long breaths, then turned the collar-
(There was the clang, clang, clang of the workers in the mines and nothing else around Dusk's perception for a fleeting moment. He saw around him Faunus of various breeds and characteristics all clothed in worn, tattered, ill-fitting jumpsuits. There was a voice blaring out above the methodical clang, clang, clang of the workers, telling them to speed up and maximize their efficiency for the good of the company and - by association - the good of themselves.)
(A Gorilla Faunus lumbered past him, pushing a cart filled to the brim with raw Dust shards with heavy, wheezing breaths following his every step.)
("Keep going, sis…")
(Dusk glanced to his side. A teenage Grimbeorn, covered from head to toe with dirt and soot, was helping the person whose eyes Dusk was viewing this memory through to push the mining cart down the tracks.)
("Keep going, sis," Grimbeorn repeated, gritting his teeth and straining to push all his weight into the cart. "We've gotta keep going… We can't show them any weakness… C'mon…")
(Dusk heard a pathetic, meek whimper escape the lips of his body's owner. She, too, redoubled her efforts into pushing the cart. She did this alongside the countless other Faunus workers who were doing the same on tracks stretching across the vast Dust quarry.)
(And on everything that wasn't a living thing, on the lapels of every jumpsuit, emblazoned on the side of every mining cart, on each warning sign and on every armored guard kicking and spitting at the workers too tired to work…)
(… A perfectly symmetrical snowflake-)
-revealing the Schnee family crest engraved into the front of the collar.
Dusk stumbled back, pressing his hand to his racing heart. "Oh, Gods…"
Suddenly, a second collar was tossed onto the bed beside the first. This one did not bear the Schnee family crest, but was of an entirely different make; the collar made of black leather and the metal clasp bearing the symbol of Atlas.
Grimbeorn then tossed another collar onto the bed. Then another. And another. And another. On and on and on…
"Gods…" whispered Dusk. "Gods, why are there so many?!"
"Because," said Grimbeorn, tossing out the last collar and sliding the drawer shut. "They-" Grimbeorn said, pointing at the pile of collars, "set out to make Faunuskind the tools of an empire built on the backs of our children and our children's children. To make me, my sister, your father, your mother, your sister, you," Grimbeorn pointed at Dusk, "all to be used day in and day out like tools."
Dusk shook his head. "I don't believe you…"
Grimbeorn chuckled, lifted his hands as though to say 'come on,' then picked up the Schnee collar and twirled it in his jade fingers. "This was my sister's, you know? Don't think I didn't see you space out; you saw what she and I went through. What she and I did to survive our indenture, you saw some of what those mines held for us, don't you lie to me, either."
"I-I did, I just…" Dusk shook his head. "Auntie Weiss… She's only ever been nice to us!"
Grimbeorn laughed, caught the collar in his hand, the metal engraving facing Dusk. "You think she was always your sweet, doting, affectionate little auntie? There was a time when your own mother would have put a bullet in that brat's skull the instant she got a clear line of fire."
"Auntie Weiss is my godmother!"
Grimbeorn hurled the metal collar sideways to slam against the wall with a hard, loud noise. Dusk flinched, jumping back as he prepared for the old swordsman to fly into a rage.
But Grimbeorn only stood there, his chest rising and falling, his jaws and fists clenched tight as he shut his eyes to calm himself down.
"And Kali Belladonna," said Grimbeorn, "is your grandmother… But you don't even know who she is, do you?"
Dusk was silent. He raked his memory, trying to remember a time when his mama had mentioned the name "Kali Belladonna" in the past. He couldn't remember such a time. The name was entirely new to him.
"Do you?" said Grimbeorn, his tone low, his voice firm.
Dusk flinched. "N-No. No, I-I don't… I don't know my grandma…"
"Did your mother tell you she barely got to know her parents?" asked Grimbeorn. "Or did she just neglect to tell you yet again about your lineage?"
Dusk was trembling now, and he couldn't stop shaking his head. He couldn't hold back the moisture building in his eyes, the emotions welling up within him as he realized his mama was not the woman he once believed her to be. She was capable of being a liar. She was capable of being manipulative. She was… She was…
"I don't… I don't know who…!" cried Dusk. The tears poured forth, and Dusk had to lean himself against the bed as he felt the weight of his entire life with his mother collapse directly on top of him. "I don't know who my mama is anymore…! I don't… I don't know who to trust… I don't know anyone anymore… I don't know anyone anymore…"
Grimbeorn remained apart from Dusk as the little boy wept against the side of the bed. He didn't show concern outwardly simply because that was the person he'd been for, well, as long as he could rightly remember. But it wasn't for a lack of sympathy; he felt concern for the poor boy. Dusk didn't deserve the anguish he was going through, that much Grimbeorn knew, but it was also the only conceivable outcome after the ignorance his mother had left him in.
A piece of Grimbeorn could understand why Blake had kept this part of her life a secret. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Grimbeorn to sit in seiza beside the boy and run his normal hand up and down his quivering back in gentle, soothing ministrations.
"Alright, Dusk… It's alright…" said Grimbeorn.
Dusk glanced over his shoulder at the old swordsman, his beautiful golden eyes red and puffy as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Why… Why would mama not tell us about this…? Why wouldn't she…? Why wouldn't she tell us about our grandparents?"
Grimbeorn shrugged softly. "Knowing your mother, it probably seemed the best course of action to just not tell you."
"Why… Why would she think that?"
Grimbeorn chuckled at this. "Because your mother has always made bad decisions when it comes to how it will affect those around her."
Dusk stared at Grimbeorn, unable to reply.
Grimbeorn shrugged. "She's just a bad judge when it comes to that, I'm afraid."
Dusk frowned. He wondered if this would always be a problem with his mama, but then realized the truth in what Grimbeorn was telling him. She had always been someone to make those problems. He'd seen it with his own two eyes in the past, but now it was all starting to come together in his head.
Then, Dusk muttered, "Oh, no…"
"What?"
"Papa…" Dusk pressed his hands against his forehead. "Papa's gonna be so mad at mama and me…"
Grimbeorn was tempted to ask further, but decided he'd best leave it alone for now. He simply watched Dusk with a quaint smile, then walked over to the collar he'd thrown and picked it back up, placed it back onto the bed. "Who's your father, if you don't mind my asking?"
Dusk glanced up at Grimbeorn, paused for a moment, then said, "His name is Sun. Sun Wukong…"
"How is he?"
"He's a good papa."
"You love him?"
"Uh-huh."
"Your mama love him, too?"
Dusk nodded adamantly. Grimbeorn chuckled, nodded. "Good to know. Good to know…"
Dusk eventually calmed and glanced over to the chess set, picked it up. He moved it around in his hands, inspecting all its sides and intricacies. "You said this was mine, now?"
"Hmm?" Grimbeorn glanced at Dusk, the chess set, and nodded. "Mmhm. That's yours now."
Dusk looked back at the chess set with wide-eyed wonder, shook the box a little to hear the pieces rattle inside, then held the set close to his chest. "Thank you, master…"
Grimbeorn shook his hand dismissively. "No thanks needed. That's your inheritance right there, young master Wukong. It was meant to be in your hands the minute your mama brought you into this world."
Dusk heard this with a cherry-red blush in his soft cheeks. "Can I… go show my mama?"
Grimbeorn glanced at Dusk, hesitated for a moment. "Are you… feeling up to talking with her?"
Dusk thought to himself. He knew what Grimbeorn was saying and part of him still was shaken from the revelations of his mother, yes.
"I'm not ready," said Dusk, looking up at Grimbeorn. "But I want the truth, sir. And I want to hear her tell me what the truth is because she's my mother, and I know she loves me enough to tell me what that truth is, now."
Grimbeorn kept Dusk's gaze. He wasn't sure Dusk could make full note of this, but Grimbeorn was so impressed with the boy's new air of maturity that he, for the briefest moments, didn't see Dusk as the meek child he'd been when he'd arrived. There was resolution in the boy's stature, and it seemed he stood a little taller now; a little straighter, and with just a little more strength than he'd had earlier that day. He stood like… like a young prince would.
And seeing this newfound quality in his pupil's son, Grimbeorn smiled sagely and gave a courteous bow which – unbeknownst to Dusk – was common custom between two Chieftians coming to an agreement. He began putting the collars back into the drawer and said, "Just let me put away some of this stuff. I'm sure your mama's gonna be wondering where you…"
Grimbeorn's words trailed off. Dusk looked at the old swordsman as he began putting away the collars with quickened haste. "What's wrong?"
"Your mother. She'll wake up without seeing you there and panic. I know her." Grimbeorn dropped the last collar into the drawer then waved for Dusk to follow him. Dusk was off the bed and on his feet in an instant. He followed closely behind Grimbeorn through the halls, keeping his new chess set clutched tight against his chest. His heart pounded in his chest. Would she still be angry? Would she still be feeling bad after how he'd reacted to her last night?
Would her knuckles still be bruised like before? Had they healed at all?
Did he even still trust her anymore…?
"Where is he?!"
Blake's voice was distinct to both Dusk and Grimbeorn. They turned and looked to one another, then realized at once who she was yelling at.
"I told you, I don't know where Dusk is! Maybe Uncle Grimbeorn took him out for a quick walk or something!"
"Fawnie…" said Grimbeorn. He picked up his pace, and Dusk did the same. It wasn't long before they turned a corner and came across the sight of Blake and Goldberry standing across from each other in the living room, eyes narrowed into baleful slits as they seethed at one another.
"I don't understand why you seem to think I'm not telling the truth to you, Blake! I literally gain nothing by lying about these things to you!" said Goldberry.
"Because I don't trust you! Why is it Master Grimbeorn never so much as uttered a word about you during all my years under his tutelage, huh? Why would he neglect to bring up the topic that he - you know - has a sister, let alone a niece that he never once mentioned!" said Blake.
It was at that moment Grimbeorn and Dusk turned the corner. Both women turned and looked, Blake's eyes narrowing at Grimbeorn, then growing wide when she saw Dusk walk out from behind his leg.
"Dusk…!" Blake opened her mouth to say something further, but her words seemed to catch and choke in her throat. She couldn't speak to him. As though she were afraid to speak to her son, afraid to look him in the eye.
The spectre of last night lingered, it still seemed.
(I'm so, so sorry…)
Dusk saw his mother rub her hands nervously together, then hide them behind her back. Dusk couldn't meet his mother's eyes either, and looked down and away as well.
"What's going on here?" asked Grimbeorn, the question not a question, but an order. Blake flinched.
"Your former student here just accused me of being a double-agent!" said Goldberry.
"That's not true, I just wanted to know where my son was..." said Blake.
"Then what the hell was that about 'not trusting me?' Why else would you mention that unless you thought I was somehow behind the attack or behind those assassins getting onto the island?!"
All eyes turned to Blake, including Grimbeorn's.
"Master… I'm sorry, but I just don't remember your ever mentioning a sister or a niece once while I grew up here. I just didn't know who this person is that you're calling your niece, I…"
"No," said Grimbeorn. "I never mentioned my sister to you, Blake. Not once."
Silence. Dusk looked to Grimbeorn and Goldberry, but both seemed unwilling to talk. Goldberry had her eyes trained down to the ground, the expression on her face one of pain, of knowing something just waiting to burst out but which must not be released. As though hiding a secret which bore with it a multitude of powerful emotions.
(Anger.)
(Resentment.)
(Sorrow.)
(Love.)
(Hate.)
(Humiliation.)
(Regret.)
(The painful yearning for a loved one. No. For loved ones. For her Faunus mother, and her human-)
"Fawnie," said Grimbeorn, his voice low and firm, shattering the silence.
Goldberry flinched, looked up at her uncle, pain still painted on her expression.
"We need to interrogate our unwelcomed guest," he said, jutting his chin towards the back of the manor. Goldberry didn't object, and when Grimbeorn walked past her, she followed him without comment or resistance. She didn't look at Blake or Dusk as she went.
When they were gone, Dusk and Blake became aware of their being the only two in the living room. Their eyes met, but immediately fell away. Neither knew what was repelling them from each other. They had fears, concerns, anxieties swimming about in turbulent seas within, but these weren't what halted their speech. Dusk knew as well as Blake did they wanted nothing more than to ask how the other was doing, how they were feeling, and to talk.
The gravity of this daunted mother and son for a moment, for too long a moment, a moment neither had the courage to break.
"Mama-"
"Dusk, I-"
The two looked at each other, flustered.
"S-Sorry, mama," said Dusk.
"N-No, baby, go ahead," said Blake. She rubbed her hands together nervously, each stroke deliberately attempting to mask her bruised knuckles as she looked hopefully, imploringly at her son. "You… You wanted to say something?"
Dusk opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. His mother's eyes; he'd never dreamed he'd see them in their current state. Ringed and sunken in from tears, anxiety, and insomnia. And moreover, she looked at Dusk with the most powerful regret he'd ever seen. He didn't need to use his 'sight' to know her every thought revolved solely around him in this moment, and it pained him.
"S… Sweetie?" said Blake. Her hands were clasped together and pressed softly against her chest, fearful as though the slightest gesture would cause her son to flee.
Dusk thought to himself for a moment, then asked, "How… How're you feeling, mama?"
Blake was taken aback for a moment. It took a moment's consideration, then she managed to say, "I'm doing fine, baby. You don't need to worry about me. I just… I just want to make… make sure you're…"
"I'm okay, mama," said Dusk with a gentle chuckle. He laughed good-naturedly, then looked back to his mother to see her expression collapsing in on itself. Tears poured down her cheeks, and she had to press a hand to her mouth to keep herself from crying aloud as she fell to her knees.
Her hands flew to cover her face, and Dusk couldn't take the display of his mother's sorrows. He ran up to her, dropping his chessboard and wooden sword as he threw his arms about her neck and held her tighter than he'd ever done before. Her arms constricted about him, and he couldn't leave her.
But he didn't want to. Dusk held onto his mother as though she were the only thing between him and pure, void-black oblivion. He knew her warmth, knew the feeling of her presence since long before he understood the complexities of her soul, and Dusk held his mother tight in his embrace, feeling his own tears cascading down his gentle, soft cheeks. Tears not of sorrow, but of relief and of joy.
"I'm okay, mama," Dusk whispered to Blake, burying his face in her neck. "I'm okay. I promise I'm okay…"
Blake gasped a wretched sob, pulled her son deeper into her embrace and peppered Dusk with kiss after tearful kiss, as though every kiss she'd given him in the past didn't count and now she was paying Dusk back in due interest. "I was so scared, baby… I was so, so, so scared that they'd…!"
"I'm okay, mama!" said Dusk with a bright giggle. "I'm okay, okay?"
Blake laughed merrily, pulling her son closer into her embrace as he giggled and squirmed playfully in her arms. She loved the feeling, and so did he. It was the feeling of untapped innocence and love as from before they came to this place of dead memories and living regrets. Dusk associated this warmth with the comfort and safety he'd felt as an infant.
And fleeting though it was, Dusk enjoyed the moment for what it was.
xXx
Blake and Dusk went outside the manor to walk. Dusk placed his ancestral chessboard in his backpack and opted to carry his wooden katana in his free hand. Blake walked beside her son, holding his hand securely with one hand and having Gambol Shroud in pistol form in the other. They walked together down the stone steps, both allowing the peace and quiet of the island to envelop them.
"How're you feeling, sweetie?" asked Blake.
Dusk yawned. "Still tired. But okay."
Blake stroked her thumb lovingly along the back of her son's hand. "I'm sorry, baby."
Dusk wanted to remind her it was okay again, but stopped himself. He knew what she'd respond to that with, and he wasn't in the mood to have such a circular conversation.
Instead, Dusk said, "I never thanked you for saving me, mama."
Blake glanced down at Dusk. She sighed softly, stroked his hand with her thumb again. "It's alright, sweet pea. I know you were…"
Both fell silent, allowing involuntarily the moment to hold longer than it should have.
"I know… I scared you, sweetie."
Dusk shook his head with a soft sigh. "Mama…"
"It's all my fault. I shouldn't have brought you here. You were my responsibility and I…"
Dusk clenched his mother's hand and pressed himself to her side. "Stop it, mama. Please… just stop."
Blake's breath hitched as she felt the warm weight of her son against her hip. "What… do you want me to say, baby?"
Dusk thought for a moment while they walked. He couldn't think of anything else to say. Nothing he could tell her would make her feel any better about herself. And maybe that was the point. Maybe his mama didn't deserve to feel good after making such a huge mistake. She had put him in harm's way. She had chosen to come here while still knowing fully well how dangerous it would be for him.
Dusk, on some level, understood this. Still, he didn't want to add to his mother's anguish. He did not need to remind her of what she already knew regarding her mistake.
So, Dusk decided to ask her something different.
"I want you to tell me who you are, mama," said Dusk.
All was silent in the forest. They came to a crossroads, a fork in the path, and Dusk glanced up at his mother. Blake's feline ears twitched atop her raven-black, short-cropped hair before pointing to the trail on her left. "I hear wind and water down that way. Wanna walk that way, kitten?"
Dusk shrugged and nodded. He walked beside her, his hand still in hers while they went down the stone path.
"I'm your mama, Dusk," said Blake finally. "And I love you very, very much."
The stone stairs weaved through the forest down towards bright green grass in the distance. Blake glanced down at her son and saw his golden eyes peering up at her, still waiting for an answer.
Blake hesitated, then breathed a sigh. "What do you want to know about me, Dusk? That I was a criminal once? That I was a terrorist? Do you want to know if I'm proud of what I did back then? Because I'm not. I was a monster. A pathological, selfish, resentful, hateful little girl who believed the world would be better if only people could act and think and speak and do only exactly what I wanted them to do. I'd convinced myself upon the belief the world owed me because of how much us Faunus had suffered. Everything I did back then, everything I did before I escaped from Adam, I did based on this belief, Dusk. I believed it enough to fight. Enough to hurt people, enough to… enough to…"
Dusk's heart beat coldly in his chest. Because he knew what his mother would say next.
Dusk held tight to his mother's hand, steeled himself, then asked, "Have you killed people before?"
Blake let out a trembling, quaking breath. She nodded.
Dusk felt a chill run down his spine, felt his heart freeze for a moment, but then passed far quicker than even he had expected. Instead of horror or fear or disgust, Dusk felt another question arise naturally of its own volition. "Did you ever kill… innocent people-?"
"No," answered Blake. Dusk saw her golden irises steeled and stalwart as she met her son's gaze. "Never. I have only ever killed those who have tried to harm me or those I loved. And I mean that, baby. But still… I've killed before for… ugly reasons in the past. And… And their blood will be on my hands forever…"
Dusk believed his mother. He could see it in her eyes. He pressed himself close against her, nuzzled his head against her hip. He let out a trembling, but relieved sigh. Maybe she was a killer, but she was no murderer. And though he still felt inclined to tremble in her presence in some slight, remaining fear, he could muscle through it. Not a murderer, Dusk reminded himself. Thank the Gods my mama is not a murderer…
Their next step was made in grass, and both Dusk and Blake realized they'd made it to the bottom of the stairs. Before them was a flowing sea of bright green sweetgrass stretching into a clearing overlooking the lake. Stray winds and breaths of air traced their paths through the grass, giving shape to shapeless forces.
"Wow," murmured Dusk.
They walked casually through the waves of rolling sweetgrass. It wasn't just a clearing. It was a hill overlooking a beachhead off in the distance.
And the closer they went towards the edge of the overlook, the clearer the rows of tombstones became.
Dusk reflexively pressed closer against his mother while they walked, and Blake accepted her son's presence by holding him close against her hip.
"Should we be here, mama?" asked Dusk.
Blake chuckled. "Be respectful. And don't touch anything."
Dusk nodded, continued with his mother.
The tombstones were old, very old; the first ones they came across being the oldest with their dates reaching back nearly two hundred and fifty years. It seemed they grew up from the earth, as though the bodies beneath warranted respect and dedication from the island soil itself. Walking by, Dusk noticed the writings and epitaphs were almost all kept in impeccable shape. Someone came here often to keep these tombstones from falling into decay.
(Not Grimbeorn; not the brother. The daughter of his sister is the one who frequents this place, though often in tears…)
The impulse rattled Dusk. Blake felt her son's wavering and stopped immediately.
"Baby? You alright?" asked Blake.
"Mmhm, just… still sleepy… tired…"
"Alright. Let's just sit down then, kitten. This right here, this is a good spot to rest, to just sit down, okay?"
Dusk again nodded, falling with his mother to sit in a small area of low sweetgrass overlooking the island beachfront. He felt the solid presence of his mother as she sat down behind him, and reflexively, Dusk scooted back into her lap as her legs spread out on either side of him. Blake's arms enclosed securely about her son, and with a final gentle squirm, he settled into her embrace as easily as ever. The sight of the clouds of mist gliding across the water surface never failed to capture Dusk's wonder, and he enjoyed nature's display in the warm safety of his mother's company.
Blake once again pressed her lips against Dusk's scalp.
"Thanks, mama," murmured Dusk.
"Mmhm," hummed Blake, gently craning her neck to peck Dusk's cheek. "Anything for you, sweet pea…"
Dusk languished in his mother's affection, then felt another question come out from his lips all of its own accord. "Did you… know your mama and papa?"
Blake thought for a long, long time in silence. Just when Dusk wondered if she was going to answer, she spoke. "Enough for them to teach me a few lessons I'd never forget."
"Like what?" asked Dusk.
Blake's arms tightened around Dusk, and her hands brushed up and down his breast before settling above his heart.
"I've tried so hard to never forget it," said Blake. "But I think the best I've managed is to never forget it entirely. Because I have forgotten it. Too many times…"
"What was it, mama?" asked Dusk.
Blake's finger pressed against Dusk's exposed skin just above his shirt collar, causing him to gasp slightly from the contact.
"Do you know what the difference between good and evil is?" asked Blake.
Dusk shook his head.
The finger pressed against Dusk's chest traced gently down his sternum and over his shirt, as though to cut his heart in two.
"It's a line, Dusk," said Blake while she moved her finger down her son's chest. "The war between good and evil is a line driven down the middle of your heart. It shifts endlessly and changes its position all the time. One side gaining the advantage, then the other, and back and forth all the time inside of you…"
Blake's finger eased, and her palm splayed lovingly atop her son's gently beating heart. Dusk eased into his mother's solid presence once more.
"You are the one who decides where the line is drawn, sweet pea," said Blake. "Only you."
Dusk thought for a moment, then pressed his hand atop his mother's and asked, "But… what if I don't know where I should draw the line? What if it's hard to tell the difference between good things and bad things? What if… What if I don't want to know the difference? Because if I do… then maybe something I care about might turn out to be…"
A wind blew through the fields of sweetgrass, tousling Dusk's golden locks in their gentle caress. Blake sighed, and again pressed her lips against Dusk's cheek in a reassuring and loving kiss.
"Then you tell the truth. No matter what you do, you tell the truth," whispered Blake. "Because when you're honest with yourself, you'll know what things are good, because you won't lie to yourself anymore about things."
"How does that work?" asked Dusk.
"Well…" Blake thought for a moment, then a smile blossomed across her lips. Without warning, she pressed her cheek against Dusk's and nuzzled him with vigorous affection. Dusk laughed quietly, and Blake hummed a gentle, loving chuckle at the sound of her son's happiness. "I look at you, Dusk. I look at you and I think of all the good things you are to me. And when I look at you and I'm honest with myself, I know I want nothing more than to do right by you. Because I know what the truth is, and I know the truth is that you are good, my beautiful little son…"
Out of the corner of his eye, Dusk could see his mother's eyes gently shut. Even with her shorter hair, he still found himself enraptured by her kind, glowing, maternal beauty. He had a feeling, something inexplicable telling him that… telling him that he'd asked his mother to tell him who she was, and that this was at least close to answering his question.
But still… he had to know more. And it wasn't enough for Dusk to just use his 'sight' to find out. Dusk wanted his mother to explain her secrets in her own words. He wanted his mother to acknowledge and understand what she was telling him, and he wanted her to do this more than anything else.
"You want me to tell the truth to know the differences between good and bad?" asked Dusk.
Blake nodded her head. "Mmhm."
Dusk winced, then said, "But… then why did you lie to us, mama?"
Blake inhaled a sharp, wounded breath and shook her head, remained silent.
"Why, mama? If you know you need to never lie, then why did you-?"
"I know, Dusk," said Blake. "I lied to you. To your sister, to… your father. And what I did was wrong; very, very wrong and thoughtless and… and cruel. None of you deserved the lies I've created. None of you deserve lies…"
"Then why did you do it?" asked Dusk, refusing to let up against his mother. "You hurt Dawn, you hurt papa, you've… you've…"
"I know I've hurt you, goddamn it," said Blake. "I know I've… I know what I must look like to you… and I deserve to not be trusted. I deserve… I…" Blake pressed her forehead against the back of Dusk's skull with a wretched sob, nuzzling it in soft nudges. "I lied to the man I love, I… I lied to my beautiful daughter, and…! And I even lied to my own son…!"
Now Blake wept so powerfully, so forcefully, that it seemed she was on the verge of vomiting from her anguish. This pain she felt… it was far more than anything Dusk had ever felt coming from his mother – ever. She seemed about to fall apart at the seams, and he turned and threw his arms about her to keep her from shattering into a million pieces. Again, Blake accepted her son's embrace, held him close and didn't let go.
"I am not perfect, baby. And I don't expect you to be perfect," said Blake. "But I want you to be better than me. I don't want you to be manipulated by people or possessed by your beliefs into doing the awful things I did. You are so, so, so much more than someone else's tool, Dusk. And I do not want you to ever forget that, do you understand me?"
Dusk nodded, his heart racing while tears raced down his soft cheeks. "I won't mama."
Blake's hands cupped Dusk's face to allow him to look his mother straight in the eyes. Her golden irises shimmered with a maternal love and pride Dusk had always been accustomed to seeing as a baby, and her smile at him glowed as though she were seeing him for the first time all over again.
"All I want for you, Dusk… is that you grow up to become a real, genuine young man. And to do that, you need get rid of the strings keeping you from living a good life as you choose to live it…" Blake's voice broke here, and she gently pressed her forehead against Dusk's. "And it took so long for me to get rid of my goddamn strings that even after your father helped untangle me from them, there still ended up being one left over… And… that's why I lied again. I haven't lied in years. I'd had no need, but now… now it's like I've lost track of who I am all over again…"
Dusk was silent. He gently placed his hands atop his mother's, pressed against her forehead and nuzzled her gently.
Blake felt the gesture and gave a tearful laugh. She lifted her head to press her lips against his forehead, saying softly, "You are a blessing, kitten. Your father and I couldn't be prouder to be yours and Dawn's mama and papa. And I am honored that your father graced me with the most wonderful daughter and son I could have ever hoped to bear…"
Dusk blushed, languishing in the gentle strokes of his mother's fingers along his cheeks. Unconsciously, he felt his throat vibrate with a quaint and pleasant purr. It wasn't long before he felt Blake's arms pull him close against her chest again, and he felt the familiar deep, luxuriant purr hum out from his mother's chest to soothe his nerves.
"I have just one wish for you, my beautiful little son. Just one."
Dusk glanced up. Blake craned her neck and kissed Dusk's forehead, long and careful and caring.
"I want you to become whoever you choose to be, and become a man who is good and free and true to himself and to others. What I want more than anything else… for you and your sister… is to be happy and free. And I know it'll be hard, and I know there'll be temptations and doubts and lies and pain along the way. And I know you will sometimes get lost, and you will get weak and you will stumble and fall. But you must not ever give up. And you must not let others stop you from becoming all that you can become. No matter what happens, sweet pea, I want you to live and strive and struggle for the good in this world. And to not lie like I did. To not trick yourself or others with your beliefs. To not become weak with lies. To not make yourself vulnerable to people who want nothing more than to use you."
A moment's pause. Blake sighed and rested her chin on Dusk's shoulder, brushing her cheek with his as she drank in his presence with a smile.
"You are no puppet, Dusk Wukong. You are my son, and you are free," said Blake. "And don't you ever, ever forget that."
Dusk nuzzled closer against his mother. "I won't, mama. Never."
Blake glanced at her son with a smile. "Promise me you won't?"
Dusk turned up his head and kissed his mother's cheek. "Promise."
Blake kissed Dusk's cheek again. "I love you, Dusk. So very, very, very much."
Dusk squirmed deeper into his mother's embrace and lay still for a very long time, warm and content. Blake's fingers kneaded slowly, gently through his wild gold locks in a soothing, rhythmic motion and Dusk felt for the first time since his arrival an aura of genuine safety envelop him. It seemed, without his knowing, Dusk had come to terms with the woman his mother was and still is. She was a warrior. A scholar. A rebel. A terrorist. A defector.
A loner.
A hero.
A criminal.
A lover.
A mother.
His mother.
Dusk smiled, then dipped his head to rest comfortably against his mother's chest.
In the end, after everything that happened, his mother had remained his mother.
And Dusk was relieved beyond words when he realized, from the bottom of his heart, this would never, ever change about his mama.
And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that that was indeed a good thing.
xXx
Grimbeorn was waiting out on the patio when he saw Blake returning up the stairs with a sleeping Dusk carried in her arms. He took a long drag of his pipe, savoring the flavor and potency before exhaling a long and wizened cloud.
Blake saw her old master just a few steps ahead of her, saw him smoking, then shook her head with a scolding look in her eye.
Grimbeorn huffed a small chuckle, tapped his pipe empty against a nearby column. "I was only just finishing up, anyways."
Blake froze beside her master. "You mean… the interrogation?"
"No, my tobacco. But we finished with that, too."
Blake winced. "And Goldberry… helped you?"
Grimbeorn shrugged. "She chose to."
"Why?"
Grimbeorn fleetingly gestured at Dusk. "They put him in danger. Goldberry isn't exactly happy about that, especially since it happened under her watch."
"It isn't her fault, what happened."
"No, and I told her that, but, well…" Grimbeorn sighed, placed his hands on his hips. "She's like her mother that way. Insistent. Stubborn."
"Willful," said Blake, glancing down at her son's serene face while he slept. She bounced Dusk slightly to better hold him, then looked back at Grimbeorn. "What did you find out? Anything useful?
At that moment, Dusk stirred and took in an audible breath. Parting from his mother's shoulder, Dusk yawned a big wallop of air as he rubbed his eyes with his little fists.
Grimbeorn smiled and nodded a small greeting at Dusk. "Hello, young master Wukong. Did you get any rest?"
Dusk nodded with a sleepy smile, and Grimbeorn's bearded smile grew as he bowed in acknowledgement. "Good to know, good to know. I'll begin making dinner soon so please, relax with your mother inside."
Dusk again nodded, then pressed himself back against his mother with a yawn. "Thank you, master Grimbeorn…"
Grimbeorn gave another courteous nod at Dusk. Blake bounced Dusk in her arms and began to walk inside when Grimbeorn stopped her with a hand on her free shoulder.
"Later," he mouthed to Blake.
Blake nodded in understanding, and walked into the manor with her beloved son in her arms.
xXx
"You've raised him well, Blake," said Grimbeorn. He watched his former student as she stroked her hands across Dusk's sleeping face, caressing and cradling the boy's head in her lap.
Dinner had gone as well as one could have expected. Dusk was ravenously hungry from not having eaten breakfast or lunch, and ate the Tonkotsu ramen Grimbeorn made for dinner with intense zeal and gratitude. As his mother before him, and Blake's mother before her, Dusk of course loved the ramen and thanked him graciously. Grimbeorn admired the boy's maturity in that way; particularly the attention the boy paid to the stories he told of Blake when she was her son's age impressed the old swordsman. The boy hung on every word, understood much of which he spoke, and, well… it became clear to Grimbeorn this boy was one of a kind. And knowing a part of the boy's unusual perceptiveness had indeed been inherited from his former pupil, he couldn't help but watch Blake with a sliver of fatherly pride he hadn't known he still had.
He'd had many expectations for Kali Belladonna's daughter, so many things he'd expected her to become, but expected Blake to embrace the role of a mother last before anything else. But alas, here she was. And there her son was; a beautiful and kindly little boy who looked exactly like her, who'd gained his mother's willfulness but thankfully carried less of the arresting passions which so completely possessed Blake back in her youth. This boy, Blake's son and heir, was already so much more than just his pupil's offspring. It amazed Grimbeorn and filled him with pride at the same time.
But he could see Blake's expression clearly. All her thoughts, all her emotions, all her interests and concerns centered and orbited around the napping Dusk. And judging from the look of worry on Blake's face, Grimbeorn knew her reaction to his compliment was not positive.
"I put him in grave danger, is what I did," said Blake. "I should've turned back around the instant I knew he'd stowed away, but I didn't. I…"
"You neglected to educate him of his heritage," said Grimbeorn. "Why?"
Blake shut her eyes in a grimace. "I didn't mean to not tell them, I just… I was so happy with my family that I just… forgot to tell them."
"Had Adam not passed, would you have never told them of your history?" asked Grimbeorn.
Again, Blake shook her head. "I don't know."
Now Grimbeorn wore a grimace, aimed at Blake. "You would neglect to tell them of your mother and father? Just because it's… uncomfortable for you?"
"I didn't want my children involved in the things I left behind years ago," said Blake. "Forgive me if I wish for my son and daughter to become their own people, away from the threats on their lives like what's already happened to my son."
"Your children, if you haven't already noticed, are far more perceptive and inquisitive than they let on," said Grimbeorn. "If it wasn't in this manner, Blake, Dusk especially would have looked for the truth some other way. And as dangerous as your first night here was, I guarantee there'd be worse consequences for that little boy had he not come here with you at his side. If I were you, I'd count myself lucky you're here for his journey rather than had he faced all this alone."
"What are you saying, master? That Dusk would come here all on his own with or without me? You seriously believe he would be capable of doing that at his age?"
Grimbeorn took a drink of sake, then gestured at Blake with a wry smirk. "He did outsmart you once already, in case you've forgotten."
"He's seven," said Blake, taking her own drink of sake before pouring more into hers and her master's cups.
As soon as his cup was full, Grimbeorn threw the cup to his lips, drank down the liquor in one gulp, then pointed at Blake with a piercing, honest glare. "I don't care if he's five or fifty; he's easily as sharp – if not sharper than you were at his age. And you are gonna need to start respecting that truth if you want any hope of not losing him to the winds of change. Because I talked with him, Blake, and, well…"
Blake glanced up at her old master. "What'd he say?"
Grimbeorn thought for a moment, then put his cup down onto the table with a tired sigh. "Dusk knows when you're lying and when you're telling the truth. And you are going to need to speak with that boy assuming he already knows what's wrong. Because he likely will know already."
Blake shook her head, confused. "Master, what-?"
"Blake, your son is no fool, okay? Lying to him like you lied to your family about coming here will not work with Dusk. The only thing that works with Dusk is the truth; the cold, hard truth. Anything less and, well, you'll lose him. Do it too much, and you risk losing him for good. I guarantee you."
Blake looked at her master incredulously for a few moments, then turned back down to her sleeping son. "What did he tell you…?"
Grimbeorn poured another glass of sake into his cup. "He didn't need to tell me anything. I told him about his grandmother and his lineage and the way he reacted was all I needed to understand what was troubling him about you."
"He has our chessboard," said Blake.
Grimbeorn forcibly put the sake bottle back down and glared at Blake. "No matter what you say or think, it is his birthright-"
"I'm not taking it from him," said Blake. Dusk giggled in his sleep as Blake rubbed behind his kitten ears, and Blake beamed a soft, gentle smile down at her son. "He's… mature enough to bear its significance."
Grimbeorn drank another glass of sake, then gestured at Blake again. "He chose to keep it, I hope you know."
"And I'm glad he did. I wouldn't want it forced upon him like… it was forced upon me."
Silence for a moment. While Blake stroked Dusk's head, she noticed the wooden sparring katana he'd taken with him during their walk and, all at once, realized what made it seem so unusually familiar to her.
"Is that… what I think it is?" Blake leaned far over, taking care not to disturb Dusk, and held the katana in her grip. "This sword… it's the one I used when I was Dusk's age…"
"And you want to know something, Blake?" asked Grimbeorn. Blake held the blade still and looked back to her master. Grimbeorn gestured at it with a wizened smile. "I had him wield two blades against me; Adam's, then yours."
Blake stared at Grimbeorn for a moment, then glanced down again at Dusk as he peacefully slept.
"He didn't like how Adam's blade felt in his hand," said Grimbeorn. "And he chose your blade all on his own."
Blake couldn't speak. She could only watch her son as she came to understand him in a way she had never known before. Her master was right. Dusk was becoming so much more than just her son. He was truly… becoming someone she hadn't had the strength to become when she was his age; his own individual.
Again, Blake combed her fingers through Dusk's hair. She felt her breaths hitch and quiver, and she told herself she wouldn't cry again. She didn't want to wake him from his sleep.
"Blake… I understand how you feel about bringing him here, but I'd say you need to see this as more than just a mistake," said Grimbeorn. "I think, in all complete honesty, Dusk was… meant to come here. To see all of this firsthand."
Blake wiped the latent tears from her eyes. She didn't want to agree with her master. How could she? After all, she'd lied to her husband, to her daughter, and even to her own son. And she knew her lies were the reason her son had stowed away. For all intents and purposes, all the danger she'd placed herself and her son in stemmed directly from her decision to lie and deceive her family. She should not have come. She should have brought her son back home that night and left this all behind for good.
Blake understood all this.
And yet… there was something more.
Blake rolled her eyes shut, sighed. "Was it difficult for you, Master? To raise Goldberry?"
Grimbeorn chuckled. "She was like you and Dusk in that way, too."
"In what way?"
"She was very much like her mother."
Blake caressed her son's head, silently beaming with a gentle pride. "Well… I thank the Gods that he has enough of his father in him that that isn't entirely the case."
"In what way?"
"His smile. His laugh." Blake ran her fingers through Dusk's golden curls, smiling all the while. "His good heart. And his free spirit."
Silence again. This silence was longer than the rest. Grimbeorn was the one who broke it.
"Dogen will know his assassins failed," said Grimbeorn. "What he'll do next, I have no clue."
Blake lifted her gaze from her son to Grimbeorn. "Do they know about…?"
Grimbeorn shook his head. "You were their mark. Dusk, as far as I can tell, is off their radar. For the time being, that is."
Blake ruminated on this new information for a moment, then asked, "What do we do next?"
"I," said Grimbeorn with a patriarchal authority elevating the tone and tenor of his voice, "will inform the other houses of Dogen's brazen trespass on Clan Mistborn's ancestral lands, and invoke my right as Mistborn Chieftian to declare Dogen a renegade to be hunted down and brought before me dead or alive."
A chill ran down Blake's spine from the declaration, and she took a quiet breath before nodding a thankful bow towards her master. "Th-Thank you, Master…"
"And first thing tomorrow morning, I want you to signal your smuggler and let him know you need to be extracted," said Grimbeorn, lifting his cup to his lips as he spoke. "You are not staying here any longer. Not while your son runs the risk of being caught in the crossfire."
Blake was stunned from her master's frankness. It wasn't a suggestion. It wasn't a play on words. Blake knew when her master was issuing her an order, and this was an order.
A myriad of emotions swelled beneath her chest. But her knowledge of her master's ways kept it locked inside her, and Blake could only kneel and face her devastation in complete and utter solitude. She wanted to agree, but couldn't bring herself to say the words. She wanted to object, but couldn't possibly muster up the courage to so much as suggest she and her son remain.
Blake had to take Dusk back home. They were both in danger while they were here, and for all intents and purposes, there was no rational reason for her to wish to remain any longer. She'd brought her son into harm's way and now she would pay for that mistake by leaving prior to Adam's funeral. She'd brought this upon herself. It was the only option left for her to take.
But something still felt wrong.
("You'll leave it behind for good this time, right?")
Ruby's voice echoed in Blake's memory. She held a hand to her head, shaking it with a tentative sigh.
"You can't be serious, Blake," said Grimbeorn.
"I just…" Blake breathed a sharp, almost pained breath as she wracked her brain to fully articulate what she thought and felt, only coming up with frustration. "Something's… Something about it all just doesn't feel as simple as leaving or staying…"
"How much simpler do you want me to put it?" asked Grimbeorn. "Dogen is a renegade element and that places both you and your son at risk for whenever he attacks again. And rest assured, Dogen will attack again."
Blake grimaced and shut her eyes. How could she say it? How selfish was she being? She wished her answer was the correct one. She wished, but the truth of a childhood lived and remembered remained fixed in her mind.
(Her memories of Adam weren't trifling, weren't things she could just lay aside.)
Blake sighed with a sharp breath, shook her head, still saying nothing.
(Because the Adam she'd understood, the Adam she missed was real. He was real in a time when she'd so vitally needed the company of someone she could accept as family. Where there were classmates, squadmates, comrades, and her master, Adam had chosen to be her brother when he could have easily left her to fate's designs.)
(And as Dusk dreamed, he could see these things, these feelings, these realities which sat at the core of the universe comprising his mother's Aura; all under such vicious assault from guilt, doubt, and other dark forces manufactured by Blake's fearful mind. And Dusk knew what his mother had felt with Adam at her side. He'd been able to grow up with such a feeling; was blessed enough to know the joy of having a loving sibling there to be a guiding light in dark times.)
(That kind of feeling, Dusk knew, couldn't just be pushed aside. Couldn't be just parted with or left behind so easily. Such a feeling required closure, and Dusk knew the one and only way such closure could be achieved for his mother.)
(And finally understanding what he would do, and what he would say, Dusk decided to remain silent no longer.)
Slowly, Blake opened her eyes, and was shocked to see Dusk's eyes open as he laid in her lap. He wasn't looking at her, but by the focused expression he bore, Blake knew he'd been listening to their conversation with a clear understanding.
Fear gripped Blake. Had he understood her reluctance to leave as meaning she cared more for Adam's funeral than for his own safety? Blake took in a long, measured breath, and ejected such thoughts from her mind. Of course he knows you want to stay, she thought. Master Grimbeorn was right; I can't be anything but honest with him.
No more lies.
Blake exhaled slowly, then brushed her hand across Dusk's forehead, letting him know she knew he was awake and listening. Feeling the gesture, Dusk stirred, lifted himself upright, and sat in seiza beside his mother. He rubbed his eyes for a moment, then looked up to meet Grimbeorn's gaze without fear or hesitation.
Grimbeorn lifted his chin, a small gesture of respect to the boy for meeting his eyes like a man. "You've been listening."
Dusk's eyes flicked down, then returned to Grimbeorn. He nodded.
"Then you must know your mother doesn't appear to want to return home despite the risks to your life you incur should you remain."
"That's-!" said Blake. But glancing sideways at Dusk, Blake's interjection lost its strength almost instantly. Her lips clasped shut immediately, and she lowered her face down and away from her son in shame.
Dusk could see her hands folding and fidgeting in her lap, as though-
(Gods, I want to stay, but… I am so, so selfish… I'm so sorry, Dusk. I'm… I'm horrible…)
-they were at war with each other.
Dusk's eyes flickered down to his own hands while he thought to himself.
"I made a promise to your grandparents that so long as your mother was in my care, I'd do everything in my power to keep her safe and care for her. And I won't lie, Dusk. I can no longer guarantee yours or your mother's safety while you are in my home." Grimbeorn paused for a moment and took a strained, almost pained breath as though coming to terms with his own truth. Then, when he calmed, he looked back to Dusk, meeting his gaze again. "I want you and your mother to return to Umbra Valley before Dogen is likely to strike again. And I want you to convince your mother to do this now. Do I make myself clear, Dusk Wukong?"
Dusk swallowed, a shiver scratching a bolt down his spine. He could imagine the very air around the dinner table submitting to the old master's authority. The reasonable, rational part of Dusk's mind felt tempted to acquiesce to Grimbeorn's order.
An order. It wasn't a hard one. Looking to his side, Blake kept her face turned down and away from Dusk's sight. She appeared as one does when anticipating a whip's lash across the back, or a cold slap across the face; waiting for a duly-deserved punishment from their crushing guilt.
It would be so easy…
Dusk shimmied closer to his mother, his shoulder pressing against her arm as she gasped from the contact. He nuzzled close against her, and as he reached down to clasp her hand in his, Dusk felt his mother press close to plant her trembling lips against his temple.
"I'll leave for you, kitten," Blake whispered into Dusk's golden curls. "Just say it and… and I'll message the smuggler tomorrow to come back and take us home…"
"No."
The declaration was so sudden, so resolute, that both Blake and Grimbeorn had thought it was just something they'd imagined. But as Dusk moved from his mother to stand tall before the two, both Blake and Grimbeorn understood that had indeed been Dusk who'd just spoken.
"My mom wants to stay so she can bury Mister Adam, and until she's done that, I'm not leaving this island," said Dusk, still clenching Blake's hand in his. "I've decided I want her to stay, and I want to stay with her, so that's that."
xXx
A/N: And that's why this chapter took so long to get right.
There's a lot of philosophy I learned over the course of this year which I wanted to fit into Dusk's development from being a child into the mature boy he is starting to become at the chapter's end. And at the risk of congratulating myself too hard, I think I did a stellar job despite the mediocre writing abilities I currently possess.
I have not yet started writing the next chapter, but will be getting on it very soon.
All I ask, once more, is for your patience. Though I will try my absolute hardest to have another chapter in by the end of the new RWBY season, I make absolutely no guarantees.
Again, I am writing all this for ya'll because I do very so much love writing for ya'll. Dawn and Dusk are two beautiful kids whom I enjoy writing with all my heart, and I want nothing more than to finish this story with all of my best writing effort placed behind it.
As always, if you want to get into contact with me at all, look for my username on Tumblr; "youweremeanttobehere"; and feel free to PM me about anything and everything!
*(Chapter Soundtrack)*
"Heart of a Lion" – Kid Cudi, "Man On The Moon: The End Of Day"
"While My Lady Sleeps" – Chet Baker, "It Could Happen To You"
"The Things We Did Last Summer" – Bengt Hallberg, "Bengt Hallberg Trio & Quartet"
"A Taste of Honey – Live" – Paul Desmond, "Greatest Hits Series – Paul Desmond"
"Hearts A Mess" – Gotye, "Like Drawing Blood"
"Adventure Of A Lifetime (Cover Gabriella)" – Gabriella, "Coldplay – Adventure Of A Lifetime (Cover Gabriella)" (YouTube Only)
"Bicameral Mind" – Ramin Djawadi, "Westworld: Season 1 (Original Soundtrack)"
"From The Beginning" – Emerson, Lake, & Palmer, "Trilogy"
Thanks a septillion once again for your readership and patience.
Until next time, hopefully not to long this time,
M. E. Grimm
