Nalini

Twelve hours. That was how long it would take to reach the capital city of Vacuo. Or, more specifically, that's how long it had been since we took off. What Captain Beltway said and emphasized was the trip to our destination would take twelve hours. What I'm sure he meant to say was it would take twelve hours to reach the continent our destination was on, followed by maybe another hour or two of travel time to reach the city.

The trip would've been much easier if we weren't in a flying hunk of junk, but we weren't so lucky. It was reasonably sized, sure, but the model was severely outdated. It still used jet engine turbines! Those were phased out years ago because of the danger of things being sucked into them! On top of that, he didn't have a crew. He made his passengers work for their trip, saying things like, "I'm th' only one fit ta' fly Bessy Tuesday, an' I'm th' only one who knows how her inner werkins' 're operated." Because of that, Fen and Riley had been conscripted to the workforce of 'Bessy Tuesday' as me and Kyra had to stay in the room since women aren't allowed into the engine room. "Fer yer protection," he told us, "Cap'ns can't risk harmin' the women-folk." He may have been going for 'honorable captain,' but he was coming off as more 'sexist, crusty old man who couldn't get with the times.'

On the bright side, the cabin we were supposed to stay in actually wasn't that bad. Our room only had two beds, a few chairs, and one desk with a framed mirror connected to the back. The boys' gear was stacked on the desk while me and Kyra's rested at the foot of our beds. Heaven's Breaker rested in my lap as I traced the name that had been etched into the base of the blade. Mother said it was my name in her mother tongue. Lotus blossom when translated, she had told me. It was one of the things I really liked that my parents had given me. Silly right? I didn't care for the money, or the expensive clothing, or even the thousands of delicacies I'd eaten at our estate in my lifetime. I was thankful my name was pretty. I smiled and continued tracing my name over and over.

"It's a really nice sword. What else does it do?" Kyra asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had accrued over the course of the trip. I turned to look at her and my smile widened when I noticed she had come over and sat on the bed next to me to get a closer look. I shook my head and held up one of my dust bags.

"This is all the range I need. The sword is there just in case they get close," I told her with smile. I shrugged and looked away. I kind of wished I had a sword that turned into a machine gun, or a giant axe that was also a rocket boomerang, but I was never good with weapons like that. I was bad enough with just a sword, let alone a sword that could also shoot people.

"Makes sense, actually. A bit too boring for my tastes, but logical," she said with a joking smile. "I appreciate the simpler weapons people have and strive with."

My heart lifted just a bit when she said that and responded with, "Thanks. I kind of wish I had a really cool weapon, though. I mean your axes are handgun-rifle things, Riley's staff is a shotgun, Fen's daggers are... Well his sword is a..." It was at this point that I realized I had no idea what Fen's weapons did.

"Oh, it's pretty simple. They... Shoot things?" It was clear that neither of us knew what they did. "Fuck it, let's just find out."

She stood up and walked to the desk, grabbing Fen's daggers and short sword and unsheathing them all to get a good look at them. Getting a closer look at the shorter bladed weapons, I noticed the base of the blade opposite the bladed edge had several large curved points like claws designed to stab and hook into the victim that looked almost like giant serrations in the top of the dagger, and the base of the bladed side ended in a curve, not even connected to the base metal. If it were ever stabbed completely into something, it was staying. The hilt had a small ring for the front-most finger to slide into for better grip, another claw sticking out from the bottom, that transitioned into the blade itself, while just behind sat a much longer claw pointing in the same direction. The pommel looked almost like the tail of a dolphin, curving in the same direction as the two prior claws, that had been sharpened. These were probably to add extra damage to any punches the wielder gave while holding the weapon. Overall the weapon was about fifteen-inches long. Its appearance was intimidating to say the least, and something told me that was what the creator intended.

"Now this is more like it!" Kyra exclaimed, unsheathing the short sword. Completely black steel, the blade was slim and sharply serrated down both edges, the blade curving up to a deadly point to meet the opposite flat edge which was completely straight minus the serrated section from the handle to the middle of the blade and a small dip about three-fourths up to decrease the surface area of the blade. This, I realized, was most likely to accommodate the large revolving chamber holding six large magnum rounds which were fired from a small trigger on the thread-wrapped grip with a snarling wolf's head baring its fangs on the pommel. The weapon seemed much larger than its actual three-foot length; I couldn't decide if I was interested or terrified. Although similar in design to the daggers, this weapon gave off a horrid aura that made me think it was created for much more than slaughtering Grimm.

"Oh my god, that captain is such a slave driving- Why are guys looking at my weapons?"

We both jumped as we heard the sound of Fen's voice. He'd opened the door and walked in without either of us noticing, which wasn't good considering our profession.

His drooping shoulders and sagging attire spoke to the exhaustion he felt. The hood he almost always kept pulled over his ears now fell around his shoulder. Soot and ash coated his clothing, his pants holding the majority. Jutting out from his pocket was the fingerless leather glove he wore on his left hand. His hair was matted and greasy with sweat. His appearance spoke to the grueling work he had been through.

Then I met his dark gray eyes with mine, and I felt fear like I've never known before. So much hate and anger seemed to be kept prison behind their cold gaze, hate and anger that ached to get out and fight. Hate and anger that was just a few steps away from breaking free and punishing those that had created them. Just a few steps away from having their revenge. Just a few steps away from preventing this from happening to someone else.

And then he blinked and it was gone. What was left were the bright gray eyes he normally wore with pride. I was astonished at the drastic change, but I was confused about whether that was good or bad. I had no idea if he was still angry with us or not.

He shrugged, stumbled forward, and slumped onto the bed with a sigh. I noticed his breathing was still heavy, and the tense muscles throughout his body relaxed as soon as he hit the mattress. I almost expected him to fall asleep right then and there, but he stayed awake long enough to mention Riley was released as well and that one of us should probably look for him.

Kyra, wasting no time, excused herself and left the room as fast as she could, giving me a wink and a smile before shutting the door behind her. I was suddenly very aware that me and Fen were the only ones in the room. Luckily he had already begun staring at the sword, giving me enough time to collect my thoughts.

"It's well made. Did you smith it?" I asked. Father had my claymore specially created, so I had missed out on creating my own weapon like so many other students had done for themselves.

With a small sigh, not one of sadness but of nostalgia, he replied, "Nah, just the daggers over there." he gave a small nod in their direction, "My father created the gun-blade when he came of age. He's had it his whole life."

"Hm? Then why do you have it now?" I asked. It was obviously important to his dad.

"You could say I... inherited it a few years back. He couldn't really use it given his current state."

"Then your father is-"

"Very dead, yes. Two years ago."

I gave an apologetic nod, but he was very cool-headed. Almost as if he didn't care. He gave a small smile when he saw the look on my face.

"Don't be sorry," he began, shaking his head and putting the sword in its sheath behind me, "the old bastard had it coming." He rolled onto his side, facing me, and closed his eyes.

"Besides, I'm used to it by now..." The last sentence came out more quiet than a whisper, but he showed no signs of speaking. His breathing had slowed to the occasional inhale. His wolf ears poked out from his messy hair, twitching quickly whenever he adjusted and strands of hair teased and tickled their soft pink insides. His hand slowly reached out and held mine as under his breath he whispered, "Mom..."

I was a little taken aback, but I couldn't help but smile and give his hand a gentle squeeze in response. He seemed to react to my welcome and he gently slid closer and rested his head against my leg. He seemed calmed by my proximity. I actually had no idea Fen could be this... childlike.

Before I knew it, I found myself resting my free hand on his head and soothingly rubbing his wolf ears as I hummed, "It's okay, baby, mommy's right here." If I didn't know any better I'd say I saw a hint of a smile and a slight blush find it's way onto his face, and I felt the same work its way onto mine. As if that was a surprise.

He gently pulled himself closer and rested his head on my leg, turning as if to look up to me. My eyes worked their way down his features; gliding over his closed eyes, cascading down his jaw, flirting along the edge of his lips, and finally tracing a faint scar on his right cheek I'd never noticed before.

And once again I thought about just how little I knew about Fen. How many more scars did he have? How many fights had he been in? Was he violent? Would he get along with my parents?

No, there was no chance. My parents weren't bad, but they were very particular about who they wanted their "precious little princess" around, and Fen didn't fit with who they were looking for.

I sighed and laid back on the bed, holding Fen's sword above me so I could examine it again. I wondered why he never used it in battle. Surely it'd give you a lot more space between your opponent. Its stabs and slashes would inflict a lot more damage more safely with the serrated edges. With his daggers he'd have to constantly manage the spacing between him and his opponent. Not only would he be at a range disadvantage, he'd be at his opponent's mercy if they could keep him in their own weapon's range. Of course if he could worm his way into short range, the fight was practically over.

Why would he go through the trouble of limiting his fighting prowess like that? To test himself? To show off his skills? Mother was the same way, actually. She'd only use her Rose Thorns up close just to prove she could win with only half her strength. She was actually far superior with the ranged components, something she never hesitated to boast after fights. She always wanted to be the best, and father always made sure she was one way or another.

I really hoped Fen wasn't like my parents. If he was...

I was about to think of several different things ranging from incredibly insulting to surprisingly depressing, but a large crash and a rock of the airship interrupted my thoughts. Fenrir was shaken awake, his eyes still half-glazed over with sleep as he sat up from my lap. We exchanged matching looks of confusion when footsteps sounded outside, sprinting to the room until the door finally burst open, revealing a huffing Kyra.

"No time to explain, get your weapons and get the fuck out here, we need you both now!" She ran in and grabbed her axes before running back outside with another shout at us to hurry up. Confused, we wasted no time and suited up to the sounds of yelling commands and, what sounded like, demonic bird squawking?

We rushed outside, being met with blinding light and rushing wind. Contrasted with the fairly dim and stationary bedroom, this was a very drastic change. I noticed black figures flying around the ship as my eyes adjusted to the light. Occasionally the black figures would fly in front of the sun, giving me a small instance of comfort, before again pulling away and soaring through the air. The obnoxious squawking had only gotten louder as we left the confines of the bedroom, and it was now accompanied by gunshots and the shouting of insults. I heard one from Kyra about some oversized chicken's mom being a fantastic dinner, and Riley just lazily grunted expletives.

As we made our way to the center of the deck, several other crashes and airship rocks along the way, my eyes finally adjusted to the sun and I witnessed something I was not looking forward to dealing with in the coming minutes.

I looked to the sky and I saw the pitch black figures of dozens of Nevermore, every single last one of them thinking of how to bring this airship down from the sky.