Author's Notes: Well. Here it comes. Trigger Warning for ptsd flashbacks, references to torture and violence. More at the bottom.
Music Choices: Dark Matter by Les Friction, Visions by Guilhem Desq
Looking Glass
Epilogue
...
I am the Keeper. I am the Secret. I am the Answer. I Am. The End.
...
Seventeen years previously...
Raven coughed, grimacing as consciousness bled back into her skull. Her eyes cracked, bleary. Darkness, black crystal and blood splattered granite walls; a grisly, abstract painting, and she was the medium.
Shackles clinked above her, grabbing her attention as the cuffs about her wrists grated against her skin and her sanity. She took a deep breath, coughing violently again from the pain.
The room was swimming. Raven wasn't sure if it was due to the aura suppressants they kept dosing her with, or due to her own panic. There was a very high chance that it was both.
Breath. Stay here.
Salem's servants were extremely skilled in the art of torture. Mostly because they could inflict what her body believed was extreme duress without physically lifting a finger to do so; the majority of the damage was applied to her psychically.
Not that she could tell the difference when it was happening; she had felt herself dying over and over again, only to wake back up and start the ride over once more. She wasn't sure how long she had been in the black citadel, but it was surely months at this point; and that was not the worst part of this scenario.
Her body ached again, and her eyes darted down to her abdomen, panic rising. A swell, one that had grown over the weeks, revealed to her gleefully by one of the human servants of Salem.
I am such a fucking idiot. How could I not have noticed?
Raven stared at her abdomen, grief and rage welling in her chest. It had been a stupid mistake that had landed her in this situation to begin, all because she had been determined to fly too close. Her second skin had never failed her before, after all; she hadn't even passed the magical wards or alarms that coated the countryside, dispelling magic and preventing most people from activating their Semblances. However, one of Salem's servants, a potential Maiden, had spotted her and taken her down before she even knew what the hell was going on; and her mistake was going to cost her more than her own life, at this rate.
No. No fuck that.
Raven grit her teeth, feeling the past trying to drag her into its embrace once again; like a well of gravity that she was always tumbling down towards, unable to fully escape.
A fist crashing into the side of her face, telling her to shut up. Stubble scratching her cheek, nausea, the smell of sour dough-
Raven literally bit her own arm with a snarl, forcing herself back into the present as blood welled into her mouth. She spat furiously at the wall. She would stay here, right the hell here, aching and bleeding and dying on this stupid fucking slab in the pits of hell; because she absolutely had to be mentally present to find a way out.
Hang on, sweetie. We're not going out like this.
The doctors had told her years ago that she would never be able to get pregnant. It had been at Beacon, actually, during one of her annual physicals. A healer had taken one Semblance assisted glance at her inner workings, to check for cancers or the potential for such, and gently claimed that she was infertile due to the damage inflicted as a child.
She hadn't been surprised by the news, but it had still, for whatever reason, shaken her deeply. She never told anyone about that day, how she had actually cried in a bathroom stall after history class, hiding from Summer and Tai for hours. Qrow had been the one to find her, and they'd sat together on the tile floor, crying.
However, it seemed that the little life inside her did not care whatsoever what doctors or anyone else had to say about the matter, and had determined that it would live; and it would live right the fuck now. It's timing couldn't be worse. It was a miracle that she hadn't had a miscarriage from all the stress.
Dust, it was a miracle that she was pregnant to begin with; and sometimes, during the bouts of torture, when she felt on the verge of shattering into a million, irreparable pieces, she could feel a wave of energy coming up from within her. Strengthening her, healing her, and raging with absolute fury against the terror that was being inflicted on them both. Raven wasn't sure if it was all in her head or not, but somehow, it gave her the strength to keep going.
Movement in the darkness, and Raven stilled. She felt like a rabbit looking out of its cage into the woods and finding the fox grinning back at her. Not that Salem ever grinned.
A pale face, both beautiful and horrific, had appeared nearby, staring placidly at her. Raven had known that Salem was terrifying, much like she knew Atlas was a Kingdom on the map; but experiencing a place in person was different from reading about it, and experiencing Salem was so, so much worse than simply hearing about her.
Salem flowed over the dried blood, her eyes pinning Raven more efficiently than the shackles. Her aura invoked dread, a terror more potent than anything Raven had ever known possible; being in her presence long enough, when she came with her hair down so to speak, could even cause Raven to hallucinate wildly. However, Raven was, if anything, used to hallucinations; so she grit her teeth so hard it pained her, and forced herself to stay present.
Salem watched her, close but not touching, never touching. Salem never hurt Raven herself. That was for the Grimm or her human pets; she had, however, killed in front of her. A man from her menagerie of servants had betrayed some oath or order, or who knew really, and Salem unhinged her jaw like fucking Taijitsu and literally bit his face off; like taking a bite out of a smore.
Her Grimm had finished the work, dragging bits of the body away to play with, while her living servants cowered and prayed and groveled. Raven had forced herself to watch, not screaming, not saying anything; just enduring the horror.
She was in her personal space now, right by her shoulder. Raven was past the point of outright defiance, so tempting as it was, she didn't spit at her. The little light growing her womb meant she needed to be very, very careful that she did not provoke anything.
"...Your past must have been very dreadful," Salem said at last.
Sometimes, she did this, would talk to her; like making small talk in a grocery store about the weather or troubles with her car. She never sounded angry, or malicious; just calm, almost content.
Raven didn't reply, she focused on her breathing, on grounding herself; her wrists burned, her stomach rolled, and she was riding a wave of terror.
"I suppose I can empathize," Salem tilted her head. She nearly sounded surprised by that fact. "My past was certainly much worse than my present. It likes to creep up on me, too. Carry me away with it."
Raven watched the dark form at her shoulder, biting back a cough.
"I suppose that's a good thing, though. Because then one can go through life knowing that the worst is behind you," Salem tapped her chin. It was a human gesture, one that did not match the entity performing it. "For most people, this was the worst for them, which I find to be very, very irritating. People in this generation are so sheltered, you know? It really isn't fair."
Raven did not want to know what the world had been like to think that, somehow, it was a safer place than it used to be.
"I haven't had many guests over the years, considering how long I've been here, but I've had enough of them. They always spilled their secrets and their fears to me, in, ha. Minutes? Seconds? I have a different grasp of time, now. But it was still so quickly. Too quickly. And all their little terrors and nightmares, were so...basic. Pain, spiders, decay, old age, death. Such a waste of energy, really."
Easy for you to say.
"Is it?"
Raven's brow furrowed in confusion; perhaps she had faded out and missed something.
"Why is it easy for me to say? That I don't find these things frightening?"
Raven's eyes widened, as she stared ahead, trying to breath.
Shit, did I speak aloud?
"No, you didn't," Salem circled around, out of sight. The shadows in the room seemed to follow her, watching their mistress. "You don't need to."
Raven could feel her brow break out in cold sweat. Salem could hear her thoughts. Of fucking course she could hear her thoughts.
"I asked you a question, Raven," came the voice at her shoulder. Raven forced air into her lungs, her stomach cramping as her wrists burned like ice.
"You. You don't fear those things, because you are those things," Raven hissed, fighting to stay in the moment.
Salem flowed back into view languidly, smiling slightly.
"Flattery will get you nowhere," the witch said. "But, you aren't wrong, really. And why fear that which you are?"
She raised a hand, inspecting her fingers; black matter veins decorated them, like every other section of her porcelain white skin. She almost sounded wistful.
"You should embrace yourself. It is only natural, after all. And all the gods creations have a purpose, no matter how frightening they might be to the small minded vermin infecting this planet," Salem hummed, letting her hand drop. "You know what that's like, don't you?"
Raven bit her tongue. She didn't want to talk to her.
"I know you do. I can see your whole history, painted out in all it's bloody, violent glory. Punishing the weak willed, the people who close their eyes when their brothers commit atrocities in the name of 'order'. Because it made them feel safe to do so, like children hiding under a blanket. And then, for whatever daft reason, you tried to change yourself," Salem tsked, peering at her. "Who was it who told you needed to do that? Ozma?"
Raven opened her mouth and shut it, confused about what she meant. Raven hadn't changed herself.
"Oh, yes you did," Salem laughed lightly. "And, hm, no. Not Oz I see. Haha, you hated him! Isn't that funny? Why work for the man then, if you didn't trust him?"
Raven's brow furrowed, beaded with sweat, anxiety. She had worked for Ozpin because she needed to know what they were up against. She needed to see the source for herself. Salem smiled at her knowingly.
"Ah. Well then. Now we know. Don't we?"
Raven tried to center herself as the flashbacks got worse, cresting and then withdrawing. In the moments where she had been absent, Salem had gotten closer, staring curiously at her wrists; watching something with quiet fascination.
"You never answered my question," Salem finally shook her head.
"Yes I did," Raven swallowed, panting. Her chest was constricting.
"No no, the other one. Why did you change yourself?" Salem asked again.
In the distance, Raven could hear clicking; it made her hair stand on end, her skin break out in goosebumps.
"I-I don't know what you mean," Raven grit, edging away instinctively.
"Someone comes into your life, and you changed. I can't actually see them physically in your memories, meaning if they aren't Ozpin, then they are an aetheri. And I am...very fond of aetheri," Salem smiled, all predator.
Raven was going to be physically ill.
Dust, no, no, no-
"Oh, don't worry," Salem waved a hand, chuckling at her expression. "It's not like I'm going to simply hike up my skirts and go sprinting across the continent to hunt down some two bit aetheri with no face. I'm just curious as to why you went along with it, considering your nature? What was it? Love? Obsession? A lapse in will?"
"People change. It's part of being alive," Raven said. The clicking was growing closer, as a floating, black shape drifted into the room; her entire body went cold.
"Ah. The first one then," Salem sighed, shaking her head. "Isn't it always? But that's such a farce, you see? Because if someone actually loved you, they would love all of you. Monstrous pieces and all."
Raven wasn't paying attention anymore, staring at the Grimm in the room, floating ever closer. What was the point in torturing her, if she couldn't keep any secrets to begin with? To prove a point?
"Oh, it has a purpose," Salem said, pulling away. "I always have a purpose. Don't think of it as torture, dear, that's so banal. Consider this a...chance to get back to your roots. A hard reset, if you will."
Tendrils at her neck, and Raven bared her teeth defiantly. The Grimm's feelers could tap into her nervous system, streaming whatever nightmarish concoction it had planned right into her head. Salem watched her face, before drifting away, waving lazily.
"I look forwards to working with you, Raven Crom Cruach."
Raven wasn't sure when she started screaming.
...
Sound. Shadows. Movement.
"-aven?"
The huntress groaned, her eyes bleary from tears and gods new what else. Suddenly she was aware, and lurched violently against her restraints, desperate to get away from the shadow next to her.
"Raven?"
"Getaway," she snarled. She barely sounded human. Her entire body was a brilliant spot of agony, and the memories and images that had been tormenting her still swirled in her head. "Don't touch me, get the fuck away!"
"RAVEN."
She knew that voice. Her eyes widened, focusing on the figure next to her. Long dreads, decorated with sharp bits and beads, like starlight. Nwyfre was hovering at her shoulder, her face tight with fear; Nwfyre never looked scared.
"Sweetheart," her mother whispered, reaching out. Raven flinched. Nwyfre couldn't be here. The citadel was a magical fortress, swarming with Grimm and watchdogs. Even the most mad rogue in all of Remnant couldn't break in.
"You aren't real-"
"I am, I am," Nwyfre continued. "I'm going to take these off-"
"DON'T."
"It's ok," Nwyfre continued, hushed. "I'm here, it's ok."
Her fingers reached out, grasping the shackles; in her hand was Dust blade. Raven flinched again as Nwyfre cut through the lock like a knife through butter. Then the other, then the ones at her feet.
Raven slid heavily from the slab, her limbs quaking; Nwyfre caught her and lowered her to the ground gently. She realized she was crying as she cradled her middle; part of the session earlier was still burning in her mind and her body, and fear was paralyzing her. She had felt that thing cut her unborn child from her very womb. Bile rose in her throat.
"Is..is it alright?"
Nwyfre paused, looking her over with serious grey eyes.
"Is what-"
"Is my baby still there," Raven choked out. "Is it ok? I thought they killed..."
Nwyfre froze, focusing on her stomach. Carefully, she pulled her glove loose and ignited her green aura, laying her palm over her stomach; Nwyfre was not as astute in the healing arts or aura reading as Ciara was, but she was good enough.
A long moment drew on, and Raven whined. Finally, a golden burst of aura lashed out defensively from Raven's navel, wrapping around Nwyfre's entire arm and hand like a serpent trying to strangle its prey. Nwyfre made a gentle noise, shushing, muttering, and just as suddenly, the little solar flare suddenly relaxed; bursts of golden light flowed like plasma over Nwyfre's own spiky green, curiously.
"She's perfect, Raven," Nwyfre smiled at last. "She's absolutely perfect."
"S-she?" Raven repeated. Tears were falling freely now. "She's a girl?"
"Yes she is," Nwyfre laughed softly. "And she burns with life. Hello, little dragon. Haha. Hi there. Look at you, hm?"
Gold danced over scarred fingers, like a child playing with an adults hands.
"Aren't you magnificent?"
Plasma whirled in agreement. Nwyfre gently pulled her hand away, and gold retreated reluctantly. Raven wiped at her face, trying to get her bearings; she barely sit up.
"Mom, how? How did you get here?"
"No time to get into it," Nwyfre insisted, her tone grim. "I'm going to inject you with aura boosters, and then we need to get you out of here."
Raven noticed that her mother wasn't wearing her typical raider garb, and was instead dressed in witchfinger armor; she was also carrying a literal arsenal, bandoleer, shotgun, pistol, hunter killer arrays.
"They have my sword," Raven admitted, grimacing.
"Then it's a good thing I carry two, now, isn't it," Nwyfre hummed, pressing the hilt of one of her blades into Raven's hand.
Then she drew out a hypodermic needle and vial, quickly injecting Raven in the thigh; Raven hissed in pain and then relief as crimson aura sparked to life, flooding her system with endorphins, strength and healing. She was still a far cry from baseline, but she would be able to walk. Nwyfre held per pull clothes on with deft fingers, her body radiating with alertness. At last, she pulled Raven to her feet.
"Let's get you home," Nwyfre said. Raven nodded, still leaning on her as they made for the iron door that led from the dungeon.
...
The Branwen women were shadows in a black fortress, moving urgently through the passageways. Nwyfre had brought dozens of Semblance glyphs, many of whom still worked inside the citadel's oppressive walls. Ciara and the other spiritworkers had woven enough magic into Nwyfre's clothes and weaponry that she was resistant to Salem's own magical wards, at least for now. However, the citadel's aura would continue to corrode her defenses; they were on a time limit.
Raven could not access her Semblance or magic yet, but Nwyfre had hung a whammied pouch of herbs and magic around her neck to prevent interference and counteract Salem's own workings on her. Once they were clean of the citadel, Raven would be able to change her skins and fly free; and engage her Semblance to portal to her paramours and Qrow.
The Semblance glyphs Nwyfre had brought allowed them to move unseen, invisible to magic to and enemy Semblances. Still, they were cautious as they proceeded. Salem's servants were many and their abilities unknown.
They passed a doorway guarded by several Wendigo, misshapen antlered Grimm that chilled Raven to her core; memories of what those things were capable of danced in her mind, causing her to falter as they crept by. One of the Wendigo snorted, it's skull face menacing as it leered about.
Nwyfre took her hand, guiding her silently passed; and then they were at the stairs that led up to the main hall. As they began the climb, Raven could hear the ominous clicking of the floating Grimm above her. She halted again, her limbs going numb. Her chest was constricting, vision tunneling wildly.
Nwyfre turned back, placing both palms on Raven's shoulders gently.
"Look at me."
"I don't-I don't know if I can do this," Raven whispered. She had never been so scared in her entire life, and she was no stranger to the sensation. But this? This was something else entirely.
"You can, and you will," Nwyfre hissed urgently. "Remember who the fuck you are. Think about them, think about your bun in the oven, and dig deep. You are a raider, you are a huntress, and fear is not your master. You eat fear for breakfast. Now fucking dig, Raven."
Raven took a breath, focusing on the little light burning within her and dug. She took a step; and another, and another. And soon, they had reached the end of the staircase, peering out into the macabre hall filled with floating Grimm.
Her head swam sickeningly, but she breathed, pushing through the paralysis as she followed her mother past the tentacled pods of Grimm. They floated lazily through the air, content as they clicked and clacked. Several floated between them, and Raven froze, barely daring to inhale as the tentacles passed overhead. Nwyfre never took her eyes off her.
Finally, the Grimm passed and the two women made it to the end of the hall. They had yet to encounter any of Salem's servants and proceeded cautiously. Nwyfre pushed the door open quietly, peering out and then grabbed Raven's hand and continued.
They trotted silently down the steps leading from the fortress into the courtyard. The horizon was a sickening vermilion, and violet spires of Dust tore forth from black mountains in the distance. Grimm flew overhead, hundreds of them. Some circled the courtyard, everything from Manticores to several Nevermore.
As they neared the base, Nwyfre froze, tossing a hand back for Raven to freeze. Below them, one of Salem's people was loping up the steps; a rabbit faunus in a tattered tophat. The faunus paused nearby, his haggard face making a silly expression; hetero-chromatic eyes focused lazily on a patch of crystals next to them.
"What a beautiful day," he sighed at last, smiling eerily. "Isn't it lady?"
Neither of them spoke. Nwyfre's head tilted, calculating the distance between him and them.
"I do hope you aren't here to steal the good china? We need that for tea, see?" he scratched an ear. "What, won't you say hello?"
He crouched by the crystals, before slapping himself in the face.
"Ah! I'm talking to ghosts again. You aren't here now, are you? Oh well," he popped to his feet, grinning like a loon. "Better let the others know."
He spread his hands to clap them together, and Nwyfre moved. A garrote wire had manifested in her gloved hands, one crafted of Jorogumo webbing, and she entwined the faunus about the neck. The webbing ate through his aura easily, before severing his arteries. His eyes bugged out comically as he gurgled, choking on his life's blood; then Nwyfre snapped his neck, and he fell like a broken toy.
Then they were running, Nwyfre all but dragging her towards the gates. More sounds behind them, shouting. Footsteps thundering over the granite from multiple directions as Raven panted, sprinting desperately after her mother.
"Carmine! Hector, Viscera! Intruder! Seal the gates!"
Groaning metal. The immense gates were springing closed, a swift affair considering how huge they were. Grimm were screeching overhead in a black, spiraling mass. Raven huffed, her legs burning as she ran. They weren't going to make it.
Then Nwyfre changed directions, veering left away from the gates. Raven followed suite, trusting the Morrigan. Several Grimm were leering down from the walls, including a Nevermore that nearly blacked out the skies with its wingspan; it screamed, deafeningly.
The Nevermore swooping down towards her. She met her mothers eyes, and saw that she was smiling; in that moment, she finally noticed that Nwyfre was not wearing her helm.
"Wait - WAIT NO!"
The jaws clamped down around her, blacking out her vision.
It's ok. I'm right behind you.
...
Nwyfre Donovan watched as the Nevermore took instantly to the skies, blending in with the flock of Grimm above the citadel. She could feel its course, its strength and speed as it flew desperately for the border. At that rate, it would make it in ten minutes or so.
She smirked, turning away from the walls. The gates had crashed shut, Salem's henchmen were flooding the courtyard. It was time for a distraction.
Calmly, she deactivated the glyphs that had been concealing her presence. There were fifteen of them, and upon spotting her, had fanned out. She picked apart their stances, body language and armaments immediately: two healers, ten ex-hunters, and three people with Grimm enhancements.
One woman, a redhead with a large, bloody naginata that was clearly compensating for something, strode forward. She leered at Nwyfre, amber eyes alive with malice; from her aura, Nwyfre deduced she was likely a magic user, possibly a Maiden.
"Fancied a stroll, did you, love?" the redhead asked mockingly. Her lackeys chuckled roughly, their faces alive with dark delight.
Nwyfre smiled hungrily back at them. That was not the reaction they had been expecting; a current of anxiety wavered through them. The Grimm were squawking and yelping nervously, circling without approaching.
"I don't know what the fuck you think you're smiling about? But I'm going to enjoy wiping it off your pointy mug, grandma," scoffed redhead.
Grandma...Hahaha. Who would have ever guessed?
Nwyfre beamed at the phrase, delighting in how it unsettled her opponents; then she allowed the two vials in her hands to hit the ground, slapping a decorated free breather over her face. She had trained her body ages ago to be resistant to Myhellium spores, but she still took the precaution; and it made her look like she had a snarling mouth of Grimm teeth.
The white cloud dispersed rapidly over the courtyard, and Nwyfre bee-lined for the healers first, engaging her Semblance. Her copies began to dart about, causing chaos as she went to work for the final time. She engaged a Semblance glyph, and her opponents lit up in the fog, their heat signatures burning in the dark.
The first was a healer, his aura flared as he tried to fight off the hallucinatory affects of the Myhellium spores. He was shouting, trying to get directions from his leader, buffing himself as the spores drained his aura.
Nwyfre raised her gauntlet, firing a strand of Jorogumo webbing attached to a blade, ensnaring his legs; she twisted, bringing him to the ground as he cried out. A Semblance shook the ground, but she compensated, entwining the man quickly. He was cutting himself to bits as he struggled; a kick to the head, and then he was unconscious, bleeding to death in silence.
One.
A figure was charging her to her left, a halberd swinging as the man tried to cleave her head off. A copy darted into his field of sight, and he swung towards it instead, confused; it didn't make contact, and he twirled, off balance. Nwyfre darted in, striking under his arms at pressure points; his arms froze, locking up. Nwyfre shoved a pistol under his jaw, firing an aura piercing round at point blank. His head burst apart like a melon.
Two.
She dropped two more vials of Myhellium, darting away into the fog. The last healer was trying to buff her comrades, screaming and swatting the air at hallucinations as she tried to focus; a copy charged her head on, and she tripped backwards into Nwyfre's waiting embrace. The girl froze, rigid, while Nwyfre's half masked face beamed down at her.
"Carmine-"
"Three."
Webbing across the throat, and her scream died with her. Nwyfre severed her head with her blade, before tossing it at the feet of one of the ex-hunters, the one who kept causing mini-earthquakes. The hulking figure of the man froze as he stared at the terrified eyes of his comrade, clearly unsure if he was hallucinating or not. He raised his hands and spires of rock and crystal burst forth, charging towards Nwyfre's direction.
Nwyfre triggered her Dust blade, clearing the spires and swooping overhead, landing behind the ex-huntsman. She showered several brutal slashes across his weakened aura, and the man roared, trying to pummel her. She spun her pistol into his face, firing.
Four.
She had moved on before the body hit the floor. A huge gust of wind had picked up, coming from the direction of the likely Maiden; the fog was being cleared away. Nwyfre pulled a Dust grenade from her bandoleer, rolling it towards the redhead. Yellow and Black Dust exploded, crackling with lightening and waves of rolling gravity. The Maiden was knocked clear across the courtyard. Nwyfre did not give chase. She would focus on her last.
Two last vials of Myhellium sprang into her fingers and she threw them to the ground. In front her of her, two ex-hunters were swinging their weapons at her copies and their nightmares, cursing wildly.
Nwyfre pulled her shotgun from her back, aiming lazily and firing; a round of Jorogumo webbing burst across one man's lower half, wrapping his legs and eating into his aura and flesh. He fell to the ground, screaming bloody murder, as his partner ran to him.
"Hector, get up!"
"Fuck, oh gods, gods, get it off!"
Nwfyfre fired her gauntlet at the blue haired partner, grabbing her line and directing it around the man's waste. He stared at it in horror as she jerked, engaging her aura; her gloves were coated in a resistant resin, preventing the line from eating her own hands.
With a horrible sound, she cut the man in half, dragging his severed corpse into the dark. Then she swung it at one of the women who was closest.
"Carmine, get eyes on her for DUST SAKE!"
"I can't! Her emotions are cloaked, it has to be a Semblance!"
"Bullshit, she's not on the white list - Oh fuck!" the woman screamed as Nwyfre slammed the severed torso into her. She stumbled to the ground, screaming like a little girl.
Tch. Pathetic.
Nwyfre stalked towards her, watching as the woman raised her hands defensively. A field of force clamped down on her body, crushing her fiercely. Nwyfre hissed, her fingers wrapped around another grenade.
"I've got her! Hurry, for the love of fuck hurry!"
"Where are you?!"
"Here you fucking idiot-"
Nwyfre pulled the pin with extreme effort, and allowed the grenade to fall; it rolled forward, bumping against the woman's boot. Panicking, the girl let go of Nwyfre, trying to scurry backwards. Nwyfre engaged her aura, digging her blade into the ground. The grenade explode. Black Dust welled up, before shrinking inwards, dragging the fleeing ex-huntress into its inescapable maw. Her body crumpled into pink papermache.
Seven.
A black tentacle lashed out of the darkness, and Nwyfre deflected it, triggering her Dust blade; a searing swipe of wind severed the clawed enhancement and its owner screamed in inhuman rage. A man stumbled out of the fog, half his face black and white, his eye a searing red. Nwyfre's copies charged him, but he would not be distracted as he charged her with a roar.
His remaining arm was a blade of white bone, and it crashed against her own sword. His strength made her arm shake. They exchanged several ferocious blows, before she drew her pistol and shot him in the legs. He stumbled, still standing, before she took his head off; fortunately, Grimm enhancements prevent aura from protecting the body. In fact, they almost made her job easier.
Eight.
Nwyfre decided to find the other two Grimm hybrids. Luckily, they were of the same mentality as she was, and at the scream of their fellow came running out of the fog. They danced around one another, parrying, slashing. One tripped her, and she rolled over the ground, springing to her feet and dropping two more grenades; with a swipe of green Dust she disappeared into the fog. A flash of red and blue lit up the courtyard, blowing bits of Grimm matter and human gore in multiple directions. Blood showered her like rain.
Ten.
An electrified whip shot out as the remaining four humans tried to engage her simultaneously. The Maiden was still trying to fight off her demons, apparently, and kept sending spirals of random flame up from where she had been blasted earlier. Nwyfre fired her gauntlet, entwining the closest ex-hunter and pulling herself towards him; she danced over the weapons fire of his compatriots, wrapping the webbing under his legs before disengaging the webbing shot from her gauntlet. She took the free end, entwined it with a grenade and sprang towards one of his friends.
She didn't bother looking at the explosion behind her, tearing into the remaining three with wild abandon. She was a hurricane, her Semblance swarming about them in concert. Their eyes were glassy with fear, and she would be a liar if she said it was not extremely gratifying.
A mace slammed into her aura, once, twice, as its desperate wielder tried to force her to the ground; instead, Nwyfre's hand popped into his face, gauntlet expelling a gout of venom she had harvested from a Deathstalker, blinding him. He screamed as the venom sizzled into his sockets.
His skin was pure, hardened silver, an aspect of his Semblance. But it didn't change his eyes; and she sank her green blade in deep before kicking off his chest energetically, pulling her sword free with her momentum.
She landed on her feet, crouching. The remaining two, a man and woman, exchanged terrified looks, before trying to actually run away. She paused, incredulous, before drawing her shotgun and shooting them both in the back; the webbing tore into their spines, and they fell to the ground, shuddering in unison.
And then...there was one.
She turned towards the Maiden, who was a literal tornado of fire and electricity, burning like a star as she hovered over the killing field; the fog was dispersing, allowing the Maiden to see everything Nwyfre had wrought while she had been screaming uselessly at the things that haunted her. Nwyfre calmly tapped her glyphs, and they disengaged, allowing her to see with her own eyes.
The magic Ciara had woven into her aura and clothing was feeling thin. At this rate, her Semblance and glyphs would soon be completely useless. However, the piece of her soul that was fleeing the citadel, carrying its precious cargo, would quickly be clear of potential pursuit. Nwyfre just needed to last a few more minutes.
"You fucking bitch," the Maiden growled overhead. "You think this means anything?!"
Nwyfre stared at the girl above her, someone who really was probably younger than her own children, and felt not an ounce of pity or regret. Her free breather hissed in amusement.
"I'm more than enough to take you!" the Maiden screamed, magic flaring.
Nwyfre raised her fingers contemptuously, gesturing for the little girl to come on; and the Maiden did so, blazing with all the fury of a meteor.
...
Raven crouched in the dark, the beak of the Nevermore cradling her gently as its great form tore through the skies. It banked suddenly, and she fell over, too afraid to be disgusted as she wiped her hands on her pants.
They had to be close to the barrier, and once they actually passed it, she would be able to engage her Semblance; and create a portal to Nwyfre, and her family, allowing them both to escape to safety.
C'mon, fly faster. Faster damnit!
She focused, feeling for her bonds; they were there, for the first time in what was likely months. Bursts of static on a channel that had been dead to her, beyond her reach.
C'mon, c'mon!
...
Nwyfre dodged again, a leaf in a fiery storm, as the Maiden tried to roast the flesh off her bones. She had expended most of her aura suppressants, but not all of them. However, she knew she needed more than that to take a Maiden down. She had a few hypodermics, but needed to get in close to apply them; and getting close to a literal furnace was quite difficult.
"I'll fucking kill you, bitch!" the Maiden raged. Nwyfre rolled her eyes at the tirade, dodging another gout of plasma.
Nwyfre appraised the Grimm that had encircled the courtyard; a few had gotten in the way of their flaming skirmish and been reduced to ashes, thus the remaining masses hesitated to get any closer. She prayed Reaper had pulled through on her favor.
With a burst of wind, Nwyfre tore towards the anxious crowd of Grimm. The entities were barking and snarling, beating the ground. A few charged towards her, their jaws slavering. Nwyfre drew several small mirrors from her belt, ignoring the heat baking her back, and tossed them into the air; they paused, inches above the ground, illuminating in silver as she dropped to the ground.
"Hekate, a friend and servant calls on your aid one last time," she muttered under her breath, drawing her palm over her blade. She planted a bloody slick across the remaining mirror in her grasp, and a chain of silver light erupted between the spinning mirrors. The Grimm froze, hesitating as they yammered nervously.
The light swelled, a dome of music and silver engulfing the entire horde of Grimm and Nwyfre with it. The Maiden came to a blazing halt at the edge of the silvery field, eyes wide. The light faded.
Where there had been Grimm, there now stood a wild menagerie of entities, blinking at their newly restored independence. Nwyfre remained kneeling, palms up. A manticore, gold and red instead of the corrupted black, stepped forward, its eyes pinning the Maiden; a deep, melodic rumble filled the air. Several spirits immediately broke away, fleeing the citadel; others faded into the spirit realms, while several dead people gaped at each other in apparent confusion.
"What..what the fuck?" whispered the Maiden. She stared at the menagerie in horror, before making the dire mistake of lashing out.
A burst of flame erupted against a Wendigo turned golden stag, and the entity cried out in pain as it fell. The manticore snarled furiously, and charged forward, a wave of magic cresting before it as it led a charge of spirits towards one of its previous master's servants.
Nwyfre stayed stock still as the spirits thundered past, before slowly coming to her feet, grasping her hilt. The courtyard had erupted into magical chaos; reality was warping as the veil separating the realms grew thin. The manticore was reigning magical lightning down on the surprised Maiden, as one of the Wendigo summoned black roots from beneath the ground, binding her limbs. Another entity, some sort of vengeful gheist, was spreading its fingers at the Maiden, allowing a swarm of insects to flood forth and engulf her; they caught fire in the halo of flame surrounding her, but did not relent.
Nwyfre injected herself with aura boosters, watching the show patiently. The spirits were tearing the Maiden to pieces, raining hexes and hellfire down upon her as she shrieked in terror. Nwyfre considered shooting her, but decided she didn't deserve a swift demise; death was a gift, and this girl did not deserve gifts. She had been the one to capture Raven in the first place.
"Salem! Salem, help me!" the girl screamed, the vines tearing into her.
Nwyfre turned, her eyes resting on the queen of the dark. Salem had finally arrived, deigning to grace them with her presence. An aura of nauseating horror was waving out before the immortal, and Nwyfre felt it wash over her. Salem met her eyes. Nwyfre could feel the entity's mind trying to clamp down over her own. Smirking around her free breather, Nwyfre raised her pistol and shot the Maiden between the eyes; the spirits, realizing the creature that had enslaved them to begin with had arrived, fled promptly.
Salem did not move. She did not give chase, or rise up to strike Nwyfre down. The moments passed, and Nwyfre felt no sudden surge of power, meaning the Maiden had not had her in her final thoughts; the powers would pass to someone else.
Ah well. It wouldn't have made a difference anyways.
Salem continued to try to bind Nwyfre's mind, before realizing that she had been magically protected. Her face changed to one of calm curiosity. Nwyfre felt her Nevermore in the distance, its wings beating frantically towards freedom; it would reach the border in a minute.
One minute then. Well...let's try to make it two.
"Those are very difficult to replace," Salem finally observed.
Her voice made Nwyfre think of crypts and bloody bone, despite the sound. Something in eyes.
"Decades of work. Of grooming and recruiting," Salem continued, chin tipping as she observed the killing field that was Nwyfre's offering. "And you reduce it all to ashes in minutes."
Nwyfre took her breather out, letting it fall to the ground easily. The moments ticked along with her heartbeat, and Nwyfre felt each and every one, knowing they would be her last.
"Well, you've raised my standards at least," Salem's mouth twisted in a mockery of a smile. "I'd almost ask if this was how you placed a job application, if the circumstances were different. I don't suppose you have a name?"
Thirty seconds...
"Morrigan," Nwyfre said after a dramatic pause.
That's right, dear, let's keep up the foreplay.
"Ah. Come to rescue your downed fledgling, I see," Salem laughed gently. "You know, I do think she was crying for you, at one point. But alas. Mommy didn't get here in time, did she?"
She doesn't know she's gone.
Nwyfre took a slow breath, still wearing a bloody smile. Salem's eyes narrowed, still trying to burrow past Nwyfre's defensive wards.
"What's the matter, little bird? Cat got your tongue?"
Nwyfre sneered at the title, a wave of rage cresting through her. A memory of a very annoying young blonde man suddenly came to her, and Nwyfre chuckled aloud, almost hysterical. Salem's aura pulsed with restrained fury. The mantel thief was not used to being mocked to her face, apparently.
"What did the ruler say to the carpenter square?" Nwyfre asked suddenly.
Salem blinked; Nwyfre hadn't known that thing needed to blink.
"...What?"
"Get bent," Nwyfre snorted at her idiotic joke.
Salem's face contorted with horrible, gut wrenching rage; and Nwyfre charged right at her, engaging her Semblance. A violet summoning glyph exploded open at her feet, and dozens, hundreds of clawing hands burst out, tracing her movements. She dodged, moving with a furious speed, faster than she ever had in entire life; Nwyfre leapt, trying to bring her sword point down on the creature's head.
Tendrils lashed out of Salem's back, binding her instantly, crushing her joints; her sword fell from her grasp, clattering uselessly to the ground. Salem reeled her in, teeth bared. Nwyfre snarled right back, eyes alive with chuckling defiance.
"Your efforts amount to nothing, Morrigan," Salem hissed into her face. "You think you are the first to come here to her death? I will rebuild. I always do. This time, I'll start with your poor, broken little girl. Don't worry. I'll tell her all about your futile demise."
Nwyfre stared into death's face, grinning like a coyote. Salem's eyebrows rose incredulously.
"Just what is so funny, I wonder?" Salem growled.
Nwyfre hummed, pleased, as she felt the Nevermore break through the barrier in the distance; Salem's eyes suddenly widened, sensing the breach.
"Dusk approaches, mantel thief," Nwyfre whispered into Salem's ear. "And her reckoning shall always be crimson."
Jaws unhinged before her, as the entity howled in unspeakable hatred; Nwyfre let her thoughts drift home, a satisfied smirk on her face. She barely even felt the teeth sinking into her throat.
...
A shudder, a burst of green light, and Raven was suddenly falling through the air; she felt her bonds spring to life, only to immediately feel one perish. She cried out in pain, still grasping her mother's sword as she twisted in midair.
Above her, Nwyfre's Nevermore was burning in green aura. Raven stared in horror even as she fell, trying to comprehend - no, she knew what was happening, but she couldn't comprehend it.
Feathers rained down, burning in emerald flames. With a final, deafening warble, the Nevermore burst into green sparks, dissolving. The Morrigan had fallen.
Wind tore at her hair, her arms, her clothes. The horizon was rising up to meet her, black spires of rock and Dust, reaching out with eager arms. Raven twisted again, trying to get her bearings.
No, nonononono-
She couldn't focus. She could feel her bonds, and not all of them were good. One was a black spot in her mind, full of terror and anguish, roaring out at her as it tried to overwhelm the others.
A portal sprang open, leading to Salem. Raven collapsed it forcefully, gritting her teeth. Desperate, she reached for her second skin, praying feverishly.
With a scream, she shifted into her second skin, her wings beating the air furiously. Another portal opened, this one against her will. She shut it.
Get away, I have to get away!
She soared over the mountains and the anguished cries of Grimm, welling up in unison. Salem knew she was gone, and was hunting her; Raven could feel her mind trying to wrap around her, stifling, oppressive with the weight of sheer dread. The magic pouch containing her mothers' protection was alight, blazing against the darkness. It was being corroded by the sheer will of the entity miles away; Grimm were flying up out of the dark, screaming as they flooded the skies.
Raven flew. Another portal burst open to her right, black claws stretching out of it towards desperate wings. She severed it, but just as quickly another opened, and then another, too many of them. They were draining her aura, and Raven felt her fragile aura break as a claw raked over her.
NO!
She pushed down the pain. She pushed down the dread. She focused on gold and silver. More portals burst across the skies, dozens of them, all leading to her; Raven was about to fall unconscious, her very life force being drained as her Semblance continued to be used against her consent. As her vision began to black out, and her wings went limp, a sudden, overwhelming surge of aura burned through her. Raven opened her eyes, and all she saw was gold.
A claw raked out of a portal nearby, snaring her wing. She screamed, shifting back into human guise as she tried to slash through it; the force of the pain welled through her body, burning like magma, then translating to power and sheer force. Raven tore the clawing, black matter apart with her bare hands, and it crumpled.
Then she was falling again, a blazing comet, swarmed by portals, claws and the wings of Grimm. Raven stared at the ground, at the halo of gold blazing around her, and exhaled.
Hey buddy! Holy frick, did you see me?! That was awesome!
A portal opened in front of her, and Raven hit the ground in a tumble, the red desert sand greeting her. She wasn't even aware of springing to her feet, of the power surging through her body as she sprinted desperately for home. Raven didn't look back.
Then she was through the other portal, and she collapsed, frantically closing the portal behind her as she laying panting on the living room floor. Her mother's sword fell from her trembling fingers as she looked up. Summer and Taiyang were staring at her, already moving to her side. Arms wrapped around her, voices, their scents engulfing her. Arms and voices and scents she never thought she'd feel or see ever again.
"Raven?!"
She didn't speak, her body finally shutting down as the golden aura retreated once more; in the safety of their arms, Raven, quite selfishly, let the dark take her.
...
Author's Notes: So this chapter was finished, only to be eaten by the gods of angry and dismayed hard drives. After much despair and money, I bring you epilogue 2.0. I think this one turned out better, despite everything. I've had this chapter in my head since I started writing, and I'm glad to finally be able to put it out there.
Thanks to everyone for sticking with this story. I appreciate all the encouragement and feedback, it definitely motivates me. The next installment will be Eclipse, following STRQ's second year at Beacon and their participation in the Vytal Festival in Vacuo, and will return to Raven's POV. There will be chapters that continue in the 'present' timeline, as the series approaches the point where team RWBY will take the lead.
Anyways, thanks again, and always feel free to drop me a line. Until next time.