It was quite a thing, to feel alive.
Particularly after having spent such time on the other side. Salem marvelled at the simplicity of drawing breath, of flexing her fingers, admiring her dark nails as she felt the blood coursing through her digits and limbs. She was alive. And she had power. The combination of the two feelings was positively intoxicating.
But even that paled to the enjoyment she felt gazing up on the Schnee family members who stood in the gardens with her. Shock and outrage. Awe and horror. Betrayal. These emotions played out across their slack jawed faces, as her lips tilted upwards into a most unnatural smile.
"Well, time I was on my way... it has been a pleasure, dear Jack," she said with a soft dip of her head. Then, without further preamble, turned to leave.
It was this blatant lack of respect that seemed to jostle the Water Chieftan out of his stupor, finally galvanizing him into a semblence of action.
"Salem!"
She stepped up to the archway leading out of the garden, sparing not a glance back his way. With a casual grace she held up a hand and drew it down, causing the wall opposite the garden to melt into so much watery slush. It cleared her a path out of the Palace and into the street, beside a waterway that lead more or less towards the center of the Northern Water Tribe.
Determinly dogging her steps, Jacques attempted to stop her with his words. "You... you said you would restore my wife!"
"And so I have," Salem replied with a gentle shrug of her shoulders. "As a spirit not bound by a mortal shell, I required a new one to ensure my stay in the realm. In truth, I could have used any corpse, though of course I do prefer one with natural water bending abilities... and then you went and made this one... convenient."
Incesed beyond all measure, spluttering in outright rage, Jacques threw a water whip at Salem, funneling his power into the water. She casually battered it aside like it was a spider-fly, sending the water splashing down onto some frozen lilies. Jacques physically recoiled from her, suddenly aware of just how outmatched he was. It wasn't even just the difference in raw power between them, he had never been in a real fight before. Always the Water Tribe Chieftan relied on intimidation and politics to destroy his enemies. Failing that, an absurd amount of coin. Actually fighting, actually waterbending, was beyond him.
"We had a deal, you witch!"
She barely spared him a glance. "And you... believed it."
Without another word she took off on a swell of water, riding a wave that carried her down the river way and out of the city. Within minutes she was in the harbor, and the wave she rode was growing steadily in size the further from shore it got. It carried the Dark Avatar southwards, away from the Northern Water Tribe. Within minutes she was out of sight. Jacques could only watch impotently as he sunk to his knees. For once, all of his power, his prestige, his money, his influence... none of it meant a damn.
He had, and was, little more than nothing.
Weiss glared at his back, wanting to hate him, but found herself feeling only a profound pity as she stalked back towards the Palace. Not to pick up Water Tribe soldiers and guards and go after that evil lunatic, but to find Penny. She needed to get back to Beacon, and promptly. And before that, she needed to get Ruby.
They'd storm the damned Spirit Oasis if that was what it took.
But she stopped as she beheld the third member of their family still standing there, gaping like a fish out of water. Whitley hadn't even budged from his spot after Salem's revival, unable to quite process what he had just witnessed. Even so, seeing Weiss approaching, and on the warpath, he quickly did his best to slap on a believable smile. It fell flat, not least of which because she was not in the mood for falsehoods and platitudes right now.
"D-dear, sister, w-what are you...?"
"Don't bother with the act anymore, Whitley," she spat, unable to believe she'd fallen for his false sycophantism. "Salem just betrayed dad. Which I'm guessing by association means she just betrayed you too."
"Salem, you say? What're you-?"
He was really trying, but she saw through it like thin glass. "Don't bother denying it, little brother. I saw it."
Whitley shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. But he couldn't deny what she'd seen with her own eyes. "She betrayed us... how could she betray us... how... who... who does... who does she think she is?" he exclaimed, seizing onto the only emotion he recognized. Indignation. Affront that the Schnee royal family name had been disrespected.
Weiss frowned, and a second later her hand came whipping around faster than the eye could follow. Whitley's head snapped back from the force of the slap, which cut off his tirade mid-rant. The force of the blow knocked him back, until he fell against a stone bench. He narrowly missed the seat, clinging to the back as he slumped onto his backside in front of it.
"Get a grip, Whitley," she said, her voice cold as ice. Indeed, he felt as if his very soul had just caught frostbite. "You backed the wrong ostritch-horse. And now you're up against an opponent you can't bully, bribe or beat. Now I don't know about you, but I intend to fight. So I'm getting my friend, the Avatar, back. And if you're half as smart as you think you are you'll keep out of my way."
Then, without another word, turned on her heel and marched off. It was long past time to find Ruby, and get back to Beacon. Glynda would know what to do about all this.
She hoped.
Smoke continued to billow out of the refinery as the metal machinery creaked ominously, putting Pyrrha's nerves on edge. But she started to relax as the last batch of workers were on their way out. Apart from being shook up, they seemed more or less alright.
"That's almost everyone!" Jaune called out, assuring Pyrrha she was nearly done.
She favored him with a smile, allowing her attention to waver for a critical second.
Suddenly there was a crack in the stone, and one of the boilers tilted askew, its foundation lost. Gravity, ever a harsh mistress, ascerted its claim on the toppling force of metal, sending it crashing down towards Pyrrha Nikos. She swiftly threw up her arms, seizing it with her metalbending to halt its descent. However, her mastery of metal could do nothing to protect her as one of its loose panels burst, and a spray of white hot steam erupted in her face. Pyrrah screamed, grabbing at her face, as Jaune vaulted himself through the air. Her grip on the boiler lost, it continued to fall as he knocking her out of the way seconds before the boiler slammed down where they'd been, missing the pair of them by scant inches.
"Pyrrha! Pyrrha, hang on!" he shouted, as she screamed in an uncomfortably high-pitched, animal like frenzy, clutching her hands to her face. Swiftly Jaune un-corked his waterskin and threw all of its contents over her head, sealing it around her and infusing it with the energy of healing, just as he'd practiced. It glowed with a soft eldritch light, and gently Jaune reached up and drew down Pyrrha's hands as the healing water worked to restore her face. She held her breath as the pain subsided, trusting him instinctively.
The damage to her features was minimal, though the skin was uncomfortably pinkish, it would soon be restored to its natural healthy luster. However, of greater concern was her eyes. Some sort of damage had occurred to her eyes. Her pupils had vanished, leaving only the emerald irises surrounded by a white schlera. And she was looking uncomfortably around in every direction except at Jaune, unable to focus on his face.
Before she drowned, he quickly withdrew his water and slid it back into his waterskin, then lead over, resting a hand against her forehead gently.
"Pyrrha? Pyrrha are you alright?"
"Jaune? Jaune?!" she asked, blinking rapidly. "What happened, did the lights go out?"
He swallowed nervously, glancing over at the still lit lanterns on the walls. Even the heavy smoke couldn't completely obscure the light of those. "Yeah, it's me... Pyrrha, how many fingers am I holding up?"
She blinked again, and then it was her turn to swallow nervously. "I... I don't know... what's wrong with the lights? Where are the lights?!"
The roof shuddered again, and Jaune grabbed Pyrrha's arm, throwing it over his shoulder, lifting her up by his side. They needed to get out of here, they were the last two.
He could see it in her face the moment they stepped outside. Perhaps she felt the wind on her face, or the sun on her skin, but she knew she should have been able to see now, and she couldn't. Her eyes were uncomfortably wide as she kept blinking, as if hoping to suddenly clear her vision and restore her sight. But it didn't seem that was going to happen anytime soon.
Jaune sat Pyrrha down a comfortable distance from the refinery, on a pile of construction blocks, and beckoned over some professional medics. He insisted they look at her first, despite them both inhaling quite a bit of smoke. But he didn't care about himself right now, he wanted to make sure Pyrrha was looked at professionally.
The rest... could wait.
It didn't take long to write down a copy of the Prophecy on some parchment Raven was carrying, stow it away in their gear, then make their way back to the exit leading out of the Library. Now that they knew what they were doing they had to move, and fast. The sooner people knew the better.
"I still don't understand, what does this have to do with your little sister?" Raven asked, still puzzled by her daughters insistence on the Prophecies translation.
Yang paused, glancing over at Blake, then back at her mother. It was easy to forget she hadn't been there when the news had gotten out, she'd been out combing the desert for books. So she decided to give her the cliffnotes version.
"Ruby's the Avatar, mom."
That brought her up short. "What? Ruby? Our Ruby?"
Her daughter glared at her, lilac eyes flashing scarlet. The possessive term seemed to irk her, since Ruby had never even known Raven. Never even met her.
"Ozpin's gone," Blake explained, as they reached the bridge and ropes they had used to first enter the Library. "He died over fifteen years ago, apparently. The White Lotus has been keeping his death secret to protect the new Avatar from early discovery. And for good reason, it turns out."
"So that's why I lost contact... and Ruby... hmmmm... how interesting," Raven mused aloud. "So little Ruby is what we need."
"The world needs her, Mom, not just us," Yang replied, tossing her a rope a little more roughly than necessary. "Now climb. We have to get back to Beacon."
"The Avatar isn't in Beacon."
All three women paused, two mid-climb, one at the bottom of the rope, as a row of shiny white teeth became visible in the darkness. Moments later, the rest of Roo Stah Teeh seemed to step out of the ambient shadows and into the light, manifesting into full visibility as he spoke. "Avatar Ruby has undertaken a journey to the North Pole."
"And you know this... how?" asked Raven pointedly, arching a dark brow.
Roo Stah Teeh tilted his great head, clucking in a way that suggested he was laughing. "Have you forgotten whom I am?"
Blake's ears twitched. "He who knows Ten Thousand Things. Right. How could we forget?"
"So why are you telling us?" asked Yang. "I thought you hated humans."
"Your species as a whole is still not my favorites. Far from it, as a matter of fact. However, you three have deciphered a text that was, for many years, uncrackable by my assistants," the great spirit rooster replied, glaring down at his fox-like assistants, who withered under his gaze. "Adding to my collection of knowledge. As such, I am obliged to provide you with a tidbit of information as well. Consider my providing directions... making us even."
"Well, it saves us a trip in the wrong direction... so... thanks?" asked Yang, somewhat sarcastically.
His smirk was equally devoid of sincerity. "You're quite welcome."
Outlying villages in the Earth Empire had always been those most at risk for encroaching Grimm attacks. This despite, or perhaps because of, the rising military power of the Empire, under the command of General Ironwood. While Ba Sing Se remained impenetrable to the encroaching darkness, the average small hamlet, village, town or city was not so well protected.
Not so the growing town of Chin, located on the coastal edge of the Empire. Indeed, it was not far from the Island of Kyoshi, and shared quite the colorful history with it. While it was not quite as big and prosperous as some other nations, right now it was a well-protected one, surrounded on two sides by ocean and on a third by a high mountain ridge, leaving but a single means of approach. A way easily defended against the monsters in the world who wanted to destroy humanity.
Even so, they were of course careful to regular patrol their borders, and had earthbenders assigned alongside their common soldiers to provide earthen barriers if and when needed.
For the most part, today had started out a day unlike any other...
... and then the Grimm came.
Now, they were used to Beowolves occasionally troubling farmers on the edge of Chin. But loners, not whole packs. And today, they were charging across the fields, ignoring farms and other such remote dwellings for the core of the town itself. Everyone was in a panic as the local guard turned out in force to drive the Grimm back. Huge walls of earth erupted out of the ground to seal in the town, keeping at bay the gnashing teeth and raking claws of the dark creatures.
The watchers on the walls, benders and soldiers, could not say what had brought about this sudden surge of Grimm activity... but whatever it was... it wasn't good.
Blake shimmied up the ropes the quickest, and was consulting a map of the desert by the time Yang and Raven rejoined her outside of the Library.
"According to this, our quickest route of the desert is southeast. A wide turn around the Golden Ravine, then due south to the village of Barakan."
"That's almost the opposite direction of what we want to go," replied her blonde firebending partner.
"But it's the closest location with a railroad," Blake replied. "From there we can make good progress north. Anywhere else we go takes at least another two days, including the way we originally came from."
Yang frowned, leaning over to examine the map over Blake's shoulder. "What about straight this way? We can just head north now and hit this town here..."
Herteammate quickly dissuaded her of that notion. "That area's too unstable... they call it the Silt Sea. It's like a whole region of nothing but quicksand."
"Your partner's right, Yang," Raven added. "North is not a safe place to go, it'll slow us down far too much."
"Oh come on, you're a sandbender and you're afraid of a little sand slowing us down?"
Blake's ears flattened atop of her head, recognizing that tone, and handed the map to Yang. She was about to start up another argument with her mom, and the Kyoshi Warrior had no desire to be anywhere near it. She'd wait for them to sort it out before they pressed on.
In the meantime... something had just caught her eye...
"Look, I do know the desert, and I know our best bet is to follow the route south, then use the railroads. Or if we're lucky, Barakan might have access to a zeppelin. That'll get us to the North Pole even faster, if we're lucky."
"Lucky? Mom, being lucky is not exactly our strongest suit, let me tell you. We won't get there fast enough, we need to find a quicker route."
"There isn't one," Raven replied. "I know this desert... the sea of silt is too wide and too unstable to pass quickly. We'd need a..."
Blake stomped her foot, and the sand parted for her obediently, coming up in great huge swells before settling once again. Once the sand had settled and the air cleared, they revealed what had been concealed beneath. A long wooden boat with a sail, such as you might find on the ocean in years long past. This one, however, was specially designed for just the sort of travel they were undertaking.
"A sand skimmer..." Raven finished, a grin stretching across her face.
"... okay, maybe luck is on our side this time," Yang conceeded, glancing at Blake with a grin. "One of us at least."
The dark-haired fuanus smiled as she dipped her head, pleased by the odd choice of praise.
In a remote corner of the world of Remnant, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the Four Kingdoms... just on the very edge of the known world... there was a man. A gray-haired specimen with a permanent stubble around his mouth and cheeks that simply refused to be clean shaven or otherwise grown into a respectable beard. Like his hair, his clothes were also shades of gray, dull and simple, spun of cotton. The only splash of color were his auburn eyes and the dull red cape hanging loosely from his shoulders. All in all he had a dusty, dishevelled appearance one might normally associate with a vagabond. Or a scarecrow.
Which explained his rather apt monicker: Qrow.
He currently sat in a forest clearing, surrounded by tropical trees and resting on a hard slab of earth clear of grass. His legs were crossed, his palms resting together as he meditated in a lotus position, his mind very much elsewhere. In fact, his whole spirit had departed his body as he astral projected himself. A very advanced airbending technique that only a select few had the ability to do.
With it, Qrow could travel almost anywhere across the globe, from the Fire Palace to Ba Sing Se's Upper Ring and anywhere in between the two poles. The further he got from his body, the fuzier and more distorted images and sounds were, but it was a starting point to a lot of his scouting, and if he honed in on a particular individual, he could find out where they were almost 99% of the time. He could even travel to the Spirit Realm, leave the mortal plane behind, and gather more information from the wisps and sprites on the other side.
His eyes popped open as his soul returned to his body, and he instantly felt the ache of sitting in one position too long. His joints were sore, and he rolled his shoulders as he stood up on shaky legs. Blood began to re-circulate quickly, but it was still never an easy thing to do for long. Have to keep loose, have to keep limber, he'd always said. Stay in one place too long, and you were in trouble.
He'd told Ruby the same thing, when he'd taught her how to bend. Her dad had taught her sister, but Ruby was Qrow's student. He'd known right from the start she'd been special, and he'd done all he could to prepare her for whatever destiny had in store for her.
It hadn't exactly come as a great shock when, years later, he'd learned she was the Avatar.
Nor was he terribly surprised to find her now in trouble, along with the entire world.
Oh well, he mused. No rest for the wicked.
Rolling his shoulders and crossing his arms to finish his stretches, Qrow started walking, heading out of the grove. As he did, he tilted his head to address the open air. "Well old friend... I'd say it's high time we got moving. Places to be and all that."
His ally didn't reply, but Qrow knew they'd heard him.
Another man went flying through the air, screaming loudly before he smacked hard into a cypress branch, crashing downwards from there into the swamp waters below.
The good doctor barely paid him any mind. He stood on the very fringe of the chaos, watching it with a critical eye but declining yet to take action or comment. His men (if he could charitably call them that) were already doing wonders to try and stop the moss man from attacking. And it was much more impressively working to drive them back. The last man had gone flying, but he certainly hadn't been the only one.
Two of his Equalists rushed up to his side, splashing dirty swamp water everywhere, but thankfully just missing his impeccable suit. Which was good, because if they got his outfit messy, they'd have far worse to worry about than some sort of creature made of vines and seaweed.
"Sir! We're trying to hold back the monster but everything we hit it with is just making it angrier!"
Doctor Watts narrowed his eyes down at the swamp beast tearing through his men, idly noting another knocked aside. That made for almost fifteen in half as many minutes. A detatched, clinically part of his brain was already calculating the appropriate strategy to deal with their opponent. Clearly, conventional tactics were not going to work, none of his men were benders of any sort of caliber. They were armed with the mere basic sorts of weaponry. Fire attacks were damaging the monster, the problem was it kept regenerating itself with ambient swamp life. Thus, they needed to hit it with something bigger. Much, much bigger.
Thus, the solution was obvious, if not ideal.
"Detonate the jelly," he instructed his subordinate, not taking his eyes off of the swamp monster.
His order was met with protest. "Sir! We still have men down ther-!"
Without taking his gaze off of the beast, Watt's arm shot out faster than a cobra-scorpion, grabbing his subordinate's shoulder and yanking him in close. "Denote. The. Jelly."
Not immediately following his order, the good doctor added a very loud "NOW!" leaving no doubt about his instructions clear.
When the poor man still hestiated, unwilling or unable to bring himself to sacrifice the men still down there, Watts growled something unintelligable about his maternal ancestors and mating preferences, reached into the foremans jacket and yanked out the detonator himself. Without warning he pulled out the antennae and pressed his thumb down hard on the button.
Ka-boom.
Although they hadn't managed to finish planting the barrels for maximum radius and damage, they were still quite adequate at bursting into flame in a spectacular display. The conflagration quickly caught fire on any foliage that wasn't sufficiently wet to protect itself and did what fire always did: consume until the food source was nothing but ash. Within mere hours the whole swamp would be lit up, and the Great Tree was already starting to burn. Just the roots now, but it would climb upwards and consume the rest in due time.
More importantly, the swamp monster thrashed about as if in great pain, tearing off flaming limbs and soaking them in the muddy waters in the hopes of saving itself. But between the blasting jelly and the fires already burning, to say nothing of Watt's loyal men, it was being pushed back.
"Excellent work. Inform the men we're pulling out... there's nothing that thing can do now to save the tree... leave behind any stragglers. If they aren't quick enough to retreat, then they deserve to die. Natural selection and all that."
Turning, he started briskly walking off, ignoring a flaming branch that fell mere inches behind his head as he walked on. The other workers, watching with a mixture of awe and horror, could do little more than relay his orders and do their best to save their comrades. Watts, evidently, had no further use for them.
They christened it the Bumblebee.
Yang was steering, operating the rudder in order to provide the skimmer direction. Meanwhile Raven, and to a lesser degree Blake (still learning the precise control required for the technique) were conjuring up the sand particles and spinning them in a rapid tornado form to propel the ship forward. It was well designed, even Raven had to marvel at its good craftsmanship. She'd used similar vessels before, but never one so old.
Yet it had endured the centuries well. They skimmed across the unpredictable, loose sands of the Sea of Silt as if it was mere water. And they were making record time.
Even so, they pressed forward as quickly as they could, having a need for the utmost haste. They only hoped they wouldn't be too late.
Stumbling out of the garden almost an hour later, Jacques smoothed out his robes, slicked back his hair, and did his best to order his thoughts. Always he'd prided himself on his ability to read a situation and know just where to apply pressure to deal with it. It was his greatest strength. Not some genetic quirk that allowed him to bend water. And certainly not some bloodline, given he'd married into the royal family. He'd accomplished all he had with his mind. And he wouldn't let some setback with a water witch ruin all he'd done.
This was just a setback, he told himself, but not an utterly insurmountable one. Salem would pay for what she'd done, and virtually no one had known what had happened. First things first, he decided. He needed to ensure that was the case, find his wayward daughter and silence her before...
Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't even realized he'd been walking towards the center of the Palace until he realized he was already in the throne room. And someone was sitting in the throne. That last fact jolted him out of his miasma of thoughts and back to the here and now.
A woman, long and lean, with hair white as his own down up in a prim bun and a face classically beautiful. She was still wearing that thrice-damned uniform of a military Commodore, navy blue with metal accents at her shoulders and wrists. Jacques identified her easily enough, he'd known her all of her life. It was his elder daughter, Winter.
"Hello father," she greeted coordially.
"Winter... what...?!"
His voice trailed off and his eyes narrowed as Weiss stepped out from behind the throne, stepping down beside one of the arms. Her gaze was cool, her expression unreadable, but her eyes were quite clear with disdain and disgust for him.
"You... you both... what do you think you're doing?"
"Removing treasonous elements from the Northern Water Tribe," Winter responded. "I've already put into motion a curfew and declared martial law to keep the citizens safe, and sent some guards to the Council of Elders. Those who had any knowledge of your dealings with the forces of darkness will find themselves removed from their positions. Those who did not may keep them... provided they cause no further trouble."
"How ruthlessly efficient of you," Jacques said, pleased despite himself. Whitley glanced at him in surprise, but his father ignored him. "I'm almost proud of how..."
"I wouldn't offer praise just yet," Winter replied. "The strongest element to be removed is not the body of the Bat-Serpent, but its head..."
She delibertly trailed off, but the way her icy gaze settled on him left no doubt as to what she meant.
"... you can't..."
"... oh no," she replied quickly, agreeing with him. "I already have. As of this moment your authority as Chieftan has been revoked, and you will be imprisoned for the forseeable future while a more capable leader assumes command of the Northern Water Tribe. Someone capable of dealing with this crisis you yourself have brought upon us."
"This is absurd!" Jacques said. "Who could possibly be a more capable leader than I?"
Winter allowed herself a hint of smugness to slip into her voice as she settled comfortably into her new seat. "Me."
"... this is Ironwood's doing," Jacques said, seizing an unrelated tangent in a way that made Weiss want to roll her eyes at his paranoia. "He's sunk his claws into you with the hopes of stealing my kingdom away from me. Well it won't work. I will not allow this. I will fight-!"
"No, father, I don't think so."
"This is MY kingdom!" he protested loudly. "That is MY throne! You cannot-!"
She did not need to gesture, or otherwise command. The instant he stepped foot on the dais leading up to the throne, a dozen armed guards stepped forward, levelling their spears at Jacques and forcing him to freeze in mid-step. These weren't Earth Empire soldiers either, not even part of Ironwood's Fifth Fleet. These were water tribe guardsmen. Men who should have been loyal to him. Their chieftan. Yet they looked upon Jacques as if he was nothing but a criminal. Two quickly converged on him, and another pair on Whitley, restraining them.
"Place these men in the deepest, coldest dungeon cells we have," Winter commanded. "We'll decide what to do with them following a trial... after we've finished saving the world."
"You can't do this!" he continued to protest even as he was led away.
Weiss could only smirk, even as Winter reclined comfortably in her new chair. "We already have."
Authors Notes:
It pained me to write that scene hurting Pyrrha, but considering how horrible things were to her in canon, I consider her surviving, albeit blinded, a considerable step up.
I'm sure some of you can guess who Qrow's mysterious ally is. If not, you're in for quite a treat a few chapters from now.
Yeah, Winter is here. And she just took the reigns of the North. Gods that was cathartic, especially after watching Jacques be such a smug snake throughout Volume Four.