Chapter 10: Don't Say Goodbye
Wilhelm Schnee of Schnee Dust Company
A spear point. The long and wide wedge of bladed steel was no one's toy and an ancient weapon. It was a tool older than time, yet still used by Mistralian warriors as masterfully as the inventors of the art. To watch Weiss dance through it, the stabbing thrusts, the twisting slashes and subtle strikes of the Mistralian spear was especially exhilarating. The sparring match, though the weapons of choice were very much the real thing, was waged for only a moment and already, between the blurry frames Wilhelm's eye tried to process, he could see a flurry of different attempts to strike out against Weiss.
These early seconds were filled with swift, weak and seemingly pointless strikes that Weiss had always taught Wilhelm was about feeling your opponent, learning what will make them parry, what will make them defend, what will irritate them and lastly what will fool them. Weiss preferred to deny her enemies this grace period, dodging, blocking, but never striking. She could learn all about her opponent's offense without showing them hers. It was risky; the white clad heiress to Castle White had much shorter weapons, duel swords, a long rapier one might have called it an estoc in her left and a shorter rapier in her weaker right. Still the style was one fit for dodging and slapping her opponent's weapon away, almost taunting the entire way through.
The opponent, dressed in brown cloth, bronze plates with a matching bronze helm that covered her entire head and face aside from small slits, was a paragon of Mistralian martial history. She was the leader of a mercenary band called the brave bronze five hundred, whom only truly numbered four hundred and thirty-five. Wilhelm supposed there is no such thing as a brave war band with an unchanging number of members. As most Mistralian warriors, they armed themselves with bronze circular shields strengthened with dust and telescopic spears that could easily become javelins. She used much the same as most Mistralian warriors, but with utmost mastery found in few.
Though Mistralians were most known for battling as cohesive units, at least so Wilhelm has read, this woman wanted to test Weiss, face her in the moonstone dueling hall. A long cathedral styled room, the normally stained glass replaced with open holes exposing the hall to the elements. Many were present, a scattered few other mercenary band leaders, what knights from the Royal Army were allowed in the Castle, and of course Friedrich, little boy ever a fan of Weiss. It was hard not to be, Wilhelm admitted. She was his biggest rival, yet he loved her dearly.
The fight continued, the spear point stabbing its way into the left of Weiss, one she easily smacked away with the long thin estoc, her right hand free for a strike, but it never came. The Mistralian was smart enough to hold her shield in defense and Weiss was clever enough to not bother. It seemed almost a stalemate when the spear was held above the range of the estoc like rapier, pulling the point above the two of them, holding the shaft under the opposition's arm for further control. She slammed it down, enough force in the strike that when Weiss blocked it with the Blade of the longer sword, the spear point almost kissed her pale lips.
Right underarm exposed, Weiss went to stab with the smaller rapier, the blade nearly nicking her opponent when the Mistralian jumped to the left, performing an imperfect cartwheel without her hands. Landing so perfectly she spun the spear around, anything within the points spiral path would be struck and sliced clean. Friedrich breathed in suddenly, afraid, but Wilhelm wasn't. He was not bad with a rapier himself, but his teacher, the best swordswoman he knew, was his older sister Weiss.
Weiss who wore no armor, but knowing the value of footing and a nimble body hopping ever so close to the blade, body just bent out of range. One second off and it would have been over, but Weiss was always primed for a jump, her feet almost off the ground at any given moment in a fight. The crowd was enamored by that near strike, always pleased when someone nearly dies in a duel, and Weiss was always looking to play it a little more dangerously to win over a crowed. Winning people over by her style with a sword was her way after all.
The spin finished Weiss went for a strike with the long blade, a feint attack at best. Wilhelm would know it; anyone that fought her would, but not the Mistralian. She cartwheeled to the side again, dropping down the sharp metal point of the spear, but where flesh, blood and woman should have been was a short rapier above. The long estoc like rapier was free to swing around, just barely missing the opposition's head, striking the bronze helmet, sending it flying a ways. The Mistralian was redheaded, her shoulder length hair in a frenzy when freed from the helm. She had the queerest deep scar on one side of her face, hidden by red bangs. It was a red clean line, a strike from a heavy sword. She was pretty even still, her green eyes alive with motion.
She swung the spear around again, but Weiss was prepared for this moment. Her long blade free it caught the spear point. Pulling back the estoc, the blade caught on the hook in the spear point, the woman had one choice. To save her spear, the opposition took a step forward, freeing the blade, one step right into Weiss' range.
Desperate for more ground, the Mistralian flipped back, but Weiss simply jumped forward. No escape, a spear was a perfect weapon to keep an enemy at bay, but useless in a fight this close. Weiss had the ground, stabbing with both blades, harassing her opponent, shield desperately moving to block each stab, the force dust infused steel sending out sparks with how fast it struck the bronze and dust based shield. The sound it made and the force that struck reminded Wilhelm of lightning.
In a storm, lightning always hits the ground, always finds a mark. This time was no exception. The estoc moved to block the shaft of the spear as if it was just a flimsy pole, the other blade found its spot comfortably kissing the neck of the opposition. A perfect win had the longer blade blocked the spear. Mistralians use telescopic spears to make shorter, heavy javelins. This spear shrunk, going right under and passing the blade complete, primed to extend right into Weiss' unarmored uniform.
"I like your scar," Weiss stated, her blade unmoved, the coldness of it on the red heads neck, the thought alone made Wilhelm want to tremble. Still the red head did not move one bit. She smiled even, her green eyes looking back at his sister.
"As do I yours Heiress. You are certainly the best swordsman in the north Vale." The Mistralian was the first to back down, pulling away battered shield and stepping back from the blade tip. It left the slightest nick, not even a full drop of blood coming out. "I should introduce myself, I am Thetis Nikos. Captain of the Brave Bronze Five hundred. I wanted to see how my new employer would do fighting." That earned a raised eye from Weiss, a delightful idea by all accounts. One Wilhelm would not leave unattended for sure.
"I was under the impression that your band of mercenaries were here on contract with the Royal Army?" Weiss was the type to look a gift horse in the mouth, as any sensible person should. Cynicism was often treated for some peculiar reason as a weakness. Wilhelm considered cynicism with a smile the best possible life activity.
"The allied army has failed to pay any lien, cheap bastard General Lagune is. The lady here, as well as my men, we need lien to eat, and the only ones who seem to have two of them to rub together is the good old Schnee," Another man spoke, not Mistralian, but clearly a northerner. One of the other mercenaries from the royal army, sizable brute of a man with one eye, a vest strapped with homemade grenades and a war hammer emblazoned with a lightning bolt. "Rollo Valkyrie of the Northman Company. We're looking for contract work as well. We got faunus fighters, but they're loyal to the meal. Good thousand of us total."
"I can handle this, my dear sister will be leading you, but I will be paying you. As I'm sure you've heard." Wilhelm stepped in right when he was needed, the company man after all. Weiss gave an annoyed look, though if it was real or just part of their act Wilhelm couldn't tell.
"Wilhelm Schnee." One of the other mercenaries he actually had the displeasure of knowing as just Captain Thrush, leader of an old fashion cavalry group known as the Condottieri. Wilhelm's name came with no titles, though he could tag on Sir to be polite. After all he was a knight technically. No Heir, lord or anything of note, but something. Wilhelm did not let himself seem offended though; smile instead let it all seem like nothing. Thrush could call him whatever he wanted so long as he and his Condottieri died for him. "I was under the impression you would be going with the Allies to take back Fort Castle for your fiancée. Can't pay us if you die after all."
"If I die, the next president of the Schnee Company will pay you. The company is who you work for, not me," Wilhelm cleared up with a smile. This was not a pleasant subject for him, especially not in front of his sister.
"He won't be leaving anyways. This campaign is an idiot's venture. If General Lagune really plans on his force marching in the middle of night to attack a fortified position, my father will never agree and you will all be happy you signed on with the snowflakes." The snowflakes were meant to be an insult to the Schnee forces that were considered very "flakey" on the position of war with the faunus. As soon as Weiss had heard the first royal soldier say it when the army arrived a day ago, she laughed and took it as a badge of honor.
"Please see me after the meeting, we'll come up with the contracts then at a very beneficial rate I promise. For now, excuse me and my sister," Wilhelm finished with a mild bow as was custom, quick to pull his bull headed sister away before causing more trouble. She was already famed for her pro-war yet anti-royalist tendencies. A deadly combination that did not lead to a healthy social circle.
"You don't really intend to join them?" Weiss whispered in hushed words having the sense not to actively expose her worry. They were still in Castle White, but it was swarming with royalists now and foreign troops. The Human Alliance had found its way to White River. "It's not about the woman is it? Your fiancé went and married one of the animals that killed Wernher. She'll be hung for it if I get my way." It was always about the woman after all. Weiss knew it, Wilhelm knew it, any spy with any sense knew it. Sure as Qrow's scowl their father knew it too.
"If I save her-" There was no real point in saying it. Try as Wilhelm might, as good a sister as Weiss was, she would never know what it meant to be the second son.
"She gave up. She doesn't need saving." Weiss didn't bother whispering, taking large steps forward, heeled boots clicking to the ground with authority, her silver hair flowing as she moved ahead. The woman was damn near six feet, why she chose to wear heels was beyond Wilhelm, but they did suit her.
"If I go save her, I'm lord of Fort Castle; I'm the businessman that can reconcile the new age with the old. I don't…I don't and I'm just the second child till the day I die. After all I always wanted to be a romantic," Wilhelm added a laugh as he finished. He tried not to beg, but damn if she wasn't going to understand. This was his future; a peaceful solution might have been and maybe still could if Qrow's investigation revealed more truth, but if not. Wilhelm had to be there, had to find a middle ground, lead his own investigation into the army and maybe even the enemy.
"Little brother…." Weiss tried to argue, her eyes flashing a look of pity, almost grasping for a second. Any hope of that drifted away when company arrived, Qrow was there, though Summer the sweet child was not, likely off playing wherever Friedrich was. Qrow was a skeptic of Weiss, as Weiss was of him. He secretly hated her, and she openly hated him. Standing opposed, a noblist and a republican, bitter enemies, though neither were bad people.
"Hello Wilhelm. You asked for me." Qrow had spent little of his earned money, still dressed in the same black leather and red cloth, skinny and ripped. A hunter through and through and a bloody brutal one at that. His words were moderate, but the disdainful silver eyes were honest. Wilhelm supposed that's why he liked him.
"You need to send your pet Roses home," Weiss suggested stepping closer to the hunter, near half a foot taller in heels to Qrow. Their glare was not broken until an airship's shadow passed through the exposed Castle halls, grasping their attention just for a moment. These shadows, phantoms of the flying dust fortresses becoming a more and more common sight these days.
"I want you to watch the proceedings with me Qrow. I imagine it will be very interesting." Wilhelm cut his way between them, patting the old boy on the shoulder to cool him before they would be at each other's throats again. Weiss took note of this, unfortunately, and stamped her way down the hall. It was not the sort of walk out Wilhelm would have wanted.
"Your father is holding a proceeding for General Lagune. You want me to be there?" Qrow asked stating the dreadfully obvious. He was a clever man, if a bit of a dullard when it came to these sorts of things. Pulling him along Wilhelm started in a hurry, the duel a much more lengthy feature than planned. The Moonstone was aglow in a special way only twilight ever gave them. Sun was setting and the final of many proceedings were with it.
"You're going to be a spy for my brother, best learn about those you spy on." Chatter from the main hall reverberated from all sides as they approached, the second floor of the same arched structure. Wilhelm did not intend to participate in this discussion. He would have to leave with the army, but officially he was of the anti-war faction, leaving to act as consult for the general and a negotiator. In the balcony they could speak in hushed tones privately. There were others, some of his faction, some of the army, others of his sister, but most were the echoes of conversation below.
"Here he comes." Wilhelm couldn't remember the last time this whole venue was so full. Herzog Otto sat in the moonstone high seat, the Snowflake sigil and dusk light behind him. Almost seemed young again, a silver bush on his chin to hide the wrinkles, a strong smile. This was something he looked forward to. In front of him, dressed in a greenish blue plate was the aforementioned General Lagune. He was flanked by sub commanders and foreign dignitaries thinking they could place their bets with the king's last natural born child. He liked to figure himself a warlord, this General Lagune. Most children did so enjoy playing at war.
"General Lagune...Why is he here?" Qrow asked very well knowing the answer. The early meeting formalities were being performed, gifts given. The prototype weapon Wernher made to the General and gifts of Mistralian fabrics and jewelry to Otto. The younger man was clearly more enamored by his gift than the older. "I know he wants Castle White to join him, but why beg, he's the general. Don't you have to give in?"
"Long time ago maybe, but the royal family is not in good shape. Many of the nobility have refused to go to war. Ice Marsh and us the most importantly. The parliament is also against it." Without the support a king's power was just an illusion. No one had more power than themselves, which was what separated real power with the powered power of supporters. "The support has gotten even more fickle as the war goes. Now most of the nobility have given up. The only ones supporting the Royalist are the foreigners from Atlas and Mistral."
"Lord Otto. I understand you have not joined us," Lagune started taking a step forward pressing the issue. It earned a massive smile from Wilhelm's father who seemed ever so cheery about the issue. "Ruthven joined us. Just like you they were unsure about the war till now. The rest of Vale has rallied behind us. Why are you so skeptical?" Ruthven was the province to the south of Schnee territory. Another Neutral faction until the Royal army cut through their capital taking with them all the soldiers they could. Ruthven was not Castle White.
"I won't because your plan is stupid. A force march in the dark. A nighttime ambush against faunus guerrillas, are you stupid boy?" Many people tried to hold back their laughter, most people didn't. Too many people didn't. Otto enjoyed this thoroughly. He was famous for the negative attitude towards both Royalist and parliamentary Republicans. Came with the power base he built and the wealth of the family.
"You're father isn't a very nice man is he?" Qrow whispered, making no understatement. He was...a difficult man. Wilhelm never really liked him, but he was admirable in certain ways, a good man who did good things. He was a lord that helped his people. Someone who with a curse, a swear and an ill attitude made everyone's life better. "If no one supports the king or the war, why is it going on?"
"Human idiocy." Folly of mankind is the inability to cooperate. A basic human tradition arguing semantics was. "We are noblist, you could call us moderates, the other anti-war group are the Parliamentary Republicans, most radical group. We hate each other to put it mildly, but the more the war goes on the bigger we both get. That's why the Royal family is so desperate to end this quickly. They frankly need our support." In a political battle only one faction can win, Weiss and Wilhelm played at that enough, pretending one was winning or the other, but never could they openly act as unified victors.
"Are things really that bad for them?" Qrow asked in disbelief. Wilhelm had been disillusioned about royal authority when he was a child. Most were not so lucky. Qrow lived in a village in some snowy forest, their values preserved by distance and ice.
"Worse. King's sister is pushing for reform. A member of the royal family joined the Parliamentary Republicans. Couple that with every prince and princess aside from the illegitimate Lagune dying, you have a succession crisis." Deaths of a king were the worst moments in a kingdoms history. The Kingdom of Vale was no different. All across the world though, kingdoms stopped being about kings and queens. Nations like the new Faunus Free Menagerie Republic made the radical ideas grow.
"You don't believe in fairy tales do you Lord Schnee? I expect you to be better educated than that. We will take Fort Castle, with or without you, but when we come back we'll remember who followed the law. Everyone pays Lord Schnee!" Lagune tried to turn the tables on Wilhelm's father, but threatening the Castle in mourning was a bad idea. Otto turned red and many people gave Lagune cruel looks. This was not Ruthven, with Wernher dead any threat was personal. The dear prince was truly stupid.
"Follow the law? I protect my people, collect the taxes and enforce king's law. I damn well follow the law. If you manage to get through the forest without being punctured full of arrows, give my best wishes to the Black Cat when he hangs you." Otto stood as he yelled, a fit of coughs following his shouts. Otto's age was showing, but so was Lagune's discomfort. He didn't know what to do, his threats all empty and last request shattered against the ground. "Insolent child. You think you'll be king? I'd rather bow to a beowolf. Get your toy soldiers out of my city!"
"We will leave tonight. You have till midnight to change your mind and join your cause." Lagune was desperate to get a clasp on the draining authority. His delegation was already beginning to vanish, none wanting to be around the prince. Still the order meant Wilhelm's plans would be sped up. Only a few scattered hours to plan before he went off to fight a war all by himself. If only he could spend his enemies to death.
The white river was a peaceful pale blue right next to the river of torches out of the city. The light of the allied forces flooded out of the city into a partnered stream from where Wilhelm stood alone in his room. Wilhelm had meant to pack himself ready, but there was nothing of value that could not be found in his car. Food and weapons would be found with the army, General Lagune would not refuse him that. Instead Wilhelm wasted away in the private quarters. He had wanted to see Friedrich once more, say goodbyes, but goodbyes were bad luck. Wilhelm hated them. Instead he stayed. Wanted to make Weiss understand, but she was nowhere to be found. Father wouldn't know about his planned leaving, lest Wilhelm be disowned. Only Nimh would come with him, a sweet woman willing to drive Wilhelm off to the abyss free of charge. Maybe she wanted justice for Wernher after all. A good woman.
In these final moments Wilhelm wondered about the Roses. Summer sweet thing, truly a blessed child and then Qrow, good hard working man. Wilhelm might just be a lord one day, what was that like? To really be the leader of these hard working people, some less so. Would it be like being a father? Or maybe a teacher? If Wilhelm could be a lord of a thousand Roses they would be able to build something perfect. There was still something he had to do, had to prove it. Get a Castle of his own. Then maybe Summer and Qrow could live there, he and his sister could be equals, and Friedrich. Friedrich could be carved out a plot of land. Poor child got nothing when Otto died. At least Wilhelm wasn't the third child.
A lot of things Wilhelm wanted to do, but want meant nothing in this world. Only what one could produce, what one could make mattered. He had restructured Schnee Dust Company once he came of age, expanded mining into the Atlas Colonies. The map on his office desk had Dust mines marked in territories where the Schnee name had never been uttered before. Wernher's inventions defined an age. Modern airships covered Vale, trains connected cities and both the Capital and Winterstown had electricity in every home. Still it didn't amount anything of his own. The grimm were still a threat, people wasted efforts on these silly wars, but it never amounted to anything. Wilhelm had to change that. When he had the power he would. Lest the dark consume them all.
"Be the light in the darkness." One of many Schnee mottos. Long ago when dust first came to man, rumor has it that the Schnee's started as hunters, or whatever hunters were back then. The grimm, the dark, they were the natural enemies of the ever ferocious snowflakes. White against black. Wilhelm liked those stories, monsters made for excellent enemies and exalted battles.
Somewhere between the darkened thoughts, tossing a single lien coin up and down, biting the moments before he left, the door to his room heard a knock, the old wood creating a far heavier sound than one might expect. Perhaps Wilhelm would have told the invader to come in, but she did not wait to hear it. The woman was familiar enough with the room and after all of Wilhelm's life she had never bother to wait for permission. The wind flushing into the hall, an ever angry Weiss stood in its frame, her beloved rapier at her side.
"Hello sister." Wilhelm didn't make any effort to question why she was here. She would answer soon enough. He was content that nothing he had done would warrant being murdered by his sister and took some level of comfort in that.
"Wilhelm...do you still really intend to leave with them into an idiot's ambush?" Weiss was blunt, but at least it was open. The autumn air felt chilled for once; maybe the storm was bringing it. Wilhelm could smell it, that wet cool rainstorm. Looked like the march was going to be a wet one.
"Yes. Fort Castle is our next big investment. Our company's future may depend on how well I can talk them down." Wilhelm tried to play it off with a smile, always with a smile. Smiles disarmed people, made them take things more easily. Weiss was not people however, and she was never disarmed.
"Wilhelm...you said this was about your position in the family." Weiss took steps from the door. Her form no longer holding the door let it seal, the air of the room normalizing again. Weiss' expression morphed a few times as she approached, anger, hurt, sadness, a lot of things traipsed across her countenance. Eventually it settled on solid serious, her hand reaching out to cup Wilhelms face. A surprisingly gentle action. This was the Weiss Wilhelm saw with Friedrich, the one that loved her family. "When I'm head of this family, you will never, never be forced to leave. You can keep your position; I'll even make one for Friedrich. Wilhelm this is your home….you're my brother."
She would never be the second child. She would never know what it was like, how it felt to know you were just an emergency backup. Weiss was his big sister, she meant what she said, and it made Wilhelm feel warm, but everyone had to pay a debt to the family, help it grow. Taking off Weiss' hand he smiled, earnest and bright, but shook his head in refusal. Weiss' arm fell slack and she took a silent step back, pulling her rapier from her belt. A thin fine blade, the rune work of force dust imprinted throughout, giving it all the more potent for stabs and slashes. A master work of Schnee craft, one of Wernher's own if Wilhelm was not mistaken.
"You'll need this. You are fighting a war now little brother." She smiled when Wilhelm took it, letting the handle rest in his hand. He was no fighter like Weiss, but he was trained and willing. Weiss was the best combat instructor he could have hoped for and after losing to her for all of his life, he figured he might be able to use a blade or two.
"If I actually do any fighting sister I have truly screwed this whole plan up," Wilhelm laughed pulling up the blade to be examined more thoroughly. It was shockingly light; a tool to kill that was as easily wielded as a toothpick. Not as impressive as Weiss' larger estoc, but the best weapon Wilhelm could have. All it had to do now was magic and the businessman was convinced he could rule the world. Funny thought. "I have to go soon, tell Friedrich his brother loves him, and the Roses. I know you don't like them, but Friedrich needs friends his age, and Qrow is doing good work. Remind him to look into the royalists, I have a feeling they might be behind the murder." This was really it. Finally he felt like he could go.
"Not this again, the faunus killed him!" Weiss argued convinced by the arrow and Nimh's testimony. Nimh was no liar, but why would they? She had to be mistaken. Everything had a why, and someone needed Schnee boots on the ground, someone needed Schnee blood. Who else, but the royalists?
"If I'm wrong well, I may die so let's hope you aren't." Wilhelm was now struggling finding things not to take, money and dust, his files and evidence. Idiot should have been packing. He was almost excited, a little boy playing at war inside him.
"Wait Wilhelm….you won't need to pack. All necessities have already been brought up to the ship." Wilhelm stopped moving for a moment, heart pounding like the sound of a war drum. His life might not be in nearly the amount of peril as he thought. The impossibly perfect mention of a ship. The only ships Schnee paid for traced the sky like birds. Airships. "You'll have three, including our biggest two, The Brothers Grimm. Stay off the ground, otherwise you'll end up dead. I won't bury my little brother; you're supposed to bury me."
Wilhelm didn't need to say anything else. He thought about asking her how she managed to get control of the ships, but it was her. How she would explain it to father, but it was her. He was content with that, the only words necessary a hushed, "Thank you Weiss."
"Good bye little brother."
"Don't say goodbye, Goodbyes are bad luck. I don't need bad luck when storms are outside."
The storms were coming, rain and rot and smoke and fire. All the curses of a nice autumn war. Storms were coming and so was Wilhelm. He was always lucky, he knew that, so why not roll the dice? He could be a hero, but if not at least it would make a good story to tell the future Schnee children. Always better to die a romantic.
*** This was absolutely a hard chapter to get write. Still not perfect, but I'm not missing another day! Again after the emotional intensity of the last chapter writing for the cynical if endlessly chipper Wilhelm is hard. Let me know what you think and say thank you to TCR for the edits! Also remember reviews help so much!
Edit as of June 25. I'll be in an interview hosted by ff's own codyknight. Apparently there is a fan questions can be submitted on /r/Reiss/ if you're interested. Have a great night!