"Blaine, wait for me!"
The young boy paid no heed to his older brother's voice behind him as he ran through the woods that stretched around his tribe's current settlement. The clearing the Stormbringers had settled in for this period was wide, and nested in the Forever Woods far closer to the river and Human trade caravans that they relied so heavily on. An added bonus was that the younger children in the tribe had plenty of fresh woodland to explore, and were close to the riverbed they so loved to play in.
Blaine and his brother were racing there, shirking their responsibilities as the sons of the Chieftain as usual. They were currently supposed to be meditating, hoping their semblance, as the humans called it, would awaken, and that one of them bore the power of the chieftains. Of course, neither could be bothered to deal with that. That stuff was boring. They'd both rather be exploring, and hoping that their semblance woke by itself. Blaine stopped to rest against a tree, catching his breath as his brother caught up with him, chuckling as he pat him on the back.
"I knew you'd tire yourself if you ran too long, Blaine."
"Come on Cole, we both know I'm faster than you," Blaine said, smiling up at his older brother. Despite only being 3 years older, Cole stood several inches over the ten year old, resting a hand softly on Blaine's shoulder.
"Do you want me to wait for you?"
"No, run ahead. I'll catch up with you."
Cole nodded, running into the woods and towards the river. Blaine closed his eyes to rest, only to have them snapped back open as the sound of metal crashing shut and his brother screaming in pain set his feet in motion before he even recognized what had happened. He sprinted in the same direction as the sound had come from, finding Cole crouched on his knee, clawing desperately at the steel-toothed maw that had snapped shut onto his right leg. Blaine recognized the device, a trap that humans used to make hunting easier, less dangerous. Blaine, along with most of the tribe, had found the traps barbaric and pathetic. Hunters and Trappers are two very different professions with very different mindsets. To call trapping hunting is an insult to both arts, and to the beasts themselves. Blaine crouched down to look at the trap, and see how he could undo it. He grimaced at the sight, the sharp teeth of the device having bore their way into his brother's leg. The limb was very clearly broken, and blood oozed from the wounds. Blaine put all his pressure on the button at the base to release the trap, but he was simply not strong enough to put enough pressure to allow the mouth to open. The two continued their grunting and shouts of pain, until the sound of crashing and snapping in the brush near them hushed them both. A large Ursa parted the foliage in front of them, the sound of their attempts to free Cole apparently drawing the beast to them. Blaine began to panic at the sight of the beast, beginning to desperately jerk at the jaws of the trap to free Cole, accomplishing little but drawing more yelps from the older boy, securing the attention of the Ursa. The beast growled as it walked closer to the pair, it's footfalls crunching on fallen twigs and leaves as it neared its next meal. Blaine, in fear, outstretched his hands, his palms face outward, in an attempt to intimidate the monster like he saw the older hunters do. He closed his eyes, waiting for the agony of a fang or claw to rake his hands. Instead, he hesitantly opened his eyes when he felt a faint pressure against his left palm. The Ursa had pressed its mask-like face against his palm, almost like a smaller, domesticated animal. When it pulled away, the normally red markings on its face were a deep brown, and its eyes the same shade. The beast raised a paw, and Blaine flinched in fear. The beast brought its large appendage down onto the switch Blaine had been trying to depress, causing the trap's jaws to clatter open. The Ursa then turned and walked back into the woods, Cole and Blaine stared wide eyed at the gap in the foliage, until Blaine turned to his brother, helping him to his feet. He braced the older boy onto his shoulder, keeping the broken leg in the air.
"Are you good to move?" Blaine asked, worry clearly present in his voice.
"We need to get you home," Cole said, in between breaths. "Right now."
The flap that acted as the door to the large, collapsable building that the tribe Chieftain resided in fluttered and came to a rest as the young hunter entered. Upon his entry, the solemn face of the Chieftain softened slightly, a smile creeping at the edges of his mouth. The man was elderly, easily nearing his sixties, sat upon a weaved cushion in front of a small fire. He was clad in the same sacred leathers that the hunter that had entered wore, the rare material being reserved for Chieftains or ones to be. The elder man began to speak, the hunter having stopped in front of the fire.
"Hello, my son," he said, his tone almost gleeful. "How has your training with Cole been, Donovan?"
"It has gone well," Donovan said, taking a seat at the fire and closing his eyes. It had been 4 years since the incident with Cole in the woods, where his semblance awoke, and he had discovered he bore the power of the Chieftains, the ability to tame the beasts. As was tradition, his past name was struck out, and he was given the new, ceremonial name of Donovan, the name of all Chieftains of the Stormbringer clan in the past, present, and future. Donovan bore his new name with pride, and took great pleasure in honing his abilities. "Cole's swordsmanship remains troublesome for me to defeat. The man's gifted."
"The boy is talented, if a bit reckless. His style is a natural counterpart to yours, Donovan. Take pride in that you can fight as well as you can against someone so suited to defeat you." The Chieftain chuckled. "Now, I'm sure you are very busy. What makes you take time from your day to see me?"
"I wished to discuss events that happened earlier today, at the meeting with the Human caravan during the hunt."
"Ah yes, the Humans." The Chieftain said, his expression souring somewhat. "I assume that you would not be bringing it to my attention had it gone well."
"Indeed," Donovan said, sighing. "The exchanges went as planned, nothing out of the ordinary. I had gone alone with our usual offerings, plus some more I had found that day, and they unloaded the standard package of metal, bullets, and supplies. However, a beast emerged from the woods while the exchange was being made. I was forced to pacify the beast and kill it. The Humans were amazed, it was clear they had never seen our skill before."
The Chieftain laughed at the tale. "That's my son! My pride swells, knowing you use your gift for deeds such as that, even if it was to protect the Humans."
Donovan laughed with him, albeit far less enthusiastically, before continuing. "They offered to give their offering for free, in exchange for saving their lives, but I refused, wishing not to inconvenience those who had come so far. I only requested from them an explanation of their wonder in return."
"Interesting," the Chieftain said. "What did they speak of?"
"They spoke of their home, a far off place called 'Vale'. They spoke of the giant buildings, and of the enormous walls surrounding the place to keep it safe. There are thousands of people there, both Humans and people like us, which the Humans call Faunus. They said that the beasts attack their place very frequently, that they are attracted to negative emotion such as fear or sadness. To them, the beasts are life threatening, an ever constant threat. To see one person reduce one to a non-threatening creature was incredible to them."
"Very interesting indeed. It would appear that the Humans do not have any powers like ours in their society."
"But… what if they did?"
"What?" the Chieftain asked.
"What if we traveled to this Vale? What if we helped the humans? We could bring them the peace we've known for so long."
"Why should we?"
Donovan looked at his father's face. It was one of absolute contempt. "Why should we 'bring peace' to a race that has held nothing but disregard for our people for so long?" He scoffed, before continuing. "I have heard tales of these Humans. They waged war on our kind, the beastpeople, long ago. They claim to have settled differences, but it is clear they hold us in an inferior regard. We're stronger than them. We have our horns. They are lesser than us. They deserve nothing more."
"Does that not seem selfish to you?" Donovan's words cause his father's attention to snap to him. "We hold something that could solve their greatest plight. Is it not somewhat a responsibility of us to help them, not as Humans, but as people?"
The Chieftain sighed. "You will understand when you are older, child. Humans care little for us. A future Chieftain should take that to heart. You are dismissed from my chamber, child."
Donovan rose from his position, wordlessly walking from the chamber. His hands balled to fists as he walked out, his anger beginning to rise. He refused to accept his father's bone-headed rhetoric. He aggressively parted the cloth flap of his own hut, Cole residing inside already. The older brother took one look at Donovan, and could tell his mood.
"Something's troubling you," Cole said matter-of-factly.
Donovan sighed before crashing onto his bed, staring at the roof of their dwelling, and the beautiful starscape painted on it. "I…" He paused, wondering the opinion of his brother. Cole was a follower of the ways of the tribe like no other, becoming more devout than anyone else in the tribe to their father's teaching, especially after Donovan had been declared heir apparent. He chose his words carefully. "If you know that something is the right thing to do, even if it goes against everything you've been taught, against your destiny, would you still do it?"
Cole chuckled. "Fate and destiny are absolutes, but fate isn't always apparent. I say see where the road of your actions takes you, right or wrong. Teachings exist for a reason, but nothing is taught forever. The world has a nasty habit of changing right when you think you've got everything figured out."
Donovan didn't reply to his brother's words. He merely pondered them as the sun set, and the night rose.
It was another year, to the very day, Donovan had made sure of, before he took action. He stood upon a hill overlooking his tribe's village, the moonlight faintly illuminating the various huts and buildings of his people. His smiled faintly, looking at his own hut, the place he had called home for so long. He had made sure to wait until he heard his brother snoring, quickly gathering his things, and his spears, before leaving a short note. He had made up his mind; he was going to make his way to Vale, and offer his skill to them. He would be making a difference, at least he hoped he would be.
The trip wasn't without sacrifices. He definitely could never return, with the entire tribe so against his ideas. He had even gone as far as to 'steal' enough food to last him a full week of travel; hopefully by then, he could find a settlement, and use what little of value he had packed to trade his way into the city. It wasn't the soundest plan, but it's not like Donovan wasn't a hunter himself. He would make it work, and it was certainly better than the stagnant life he lead, he wagered. He turned to the woods, and walked a few steps into the foliage. A large beast waited behind the brush, it's marking's Donovan's shade of brown. It had been waiting for him. It, no, she, would be his companion on this trip. He met the beast's nuzzling with his hand, before being interrupted by a voice he had hoped not to hear.
'Donovan, what are you doing?"
Donovan gave his brother a beat to gather for himself, before sighing and turning around. His brother was clad in his sleepwear, but his sword was tied at his hip. His hand held a crumpled piece of cloth, one Donovan spied his own scrawled handwriting on. He looked his brother in the eye, addressing him calmly.
"I'm doing what you told me to do a year ago. I'm following my own actions, and doing what I believe in."
"You're… you're abandoning us? For the humans?" The pain in his brother's voice was agony to Donovan. "You're throwing away generations of pride, of tradition, for what? A feeling? An idea?"
"You said it yourself. Sometimes tradition has to change."
"That doesn't mean it should be disregarded! You're the heir! The Chieftain, father, he's far too old to have another child now. There's no way to keep the lineage in place! You're the only possible leader!"
"You will be fine in my place, Cole. You're smarter, and stronger. You're even far more versed in the traditions than I am."
"None of that matters! You've got the gift in your blood, not me! You're the beastmaster, the last beastmaster left other than father! I'll never have it, nor will my heirs." Cole's face twisted, now looking angrier. "You're ending everything over your own selfish goals."
"Cole, please," Donovan pleaded, finally letting emotion into his tone. "Don't let this tear us apart."
"What else are you trying to do? You're running away, choosing humans over your own people. You're dooming the tribe because of a thought." He grunted angrily as he drew his sword, pointing the tip at Donovan. "I won't let you. If it means dragging you to the tribe with your tendons slashed, I will not let you run from your destiny."
"Don't do this, Cole. I don't want to fight you." Tears began to form in the pits of his eyes, clouding his vision.
"It's too late. You chose to have this battle when you chose them over us. Over me!" He ran forward, shouting a proud war cry as he surged toward his brother. The beast in the foliage snapped to the charging hunter, and lept from the brush, landing on top of Cole. It's three claws raked across his face, leaving gashes that began to bleed. The beast continued to maul him, snarling as it slashed and tore at the boy. Cole screamed as Donovan looked on in horror. He was frozen in fear, knowing what he did right now would determine everything his fate held for him. He took a step back, before turning around and running as hard as he could. He ran until Cole's screams, both of pain and of his name, were distant noises. He fell to his knees, bracing himself on his hands, and to the distant sound of his brother's death, he cried.