Embers of Autumn
Chapter Thirty-Seven
If you follow Menagerie's largest and longest river from its mouth on the southwestern coast, follow it inland along its narrow throat and through countless Otter dens and thick colonies of mangroves to its heart, there are waterfalls. Their centuries long onslaught against the ground below carved out a yawning chasm, the roar of their decent echoing through the space as water strikes water and feeds the pool that feeds the river. At the bottom of the impossibly deep pool is an incredible deposit of raw Dust, jutting crystals as black as midnight, the crown of the second largest vein in all of Remnant. More than large enough to start a war over.
The sheer, cylindrical walls of the chasm are shot through with Dust as well, the concentrations pocking the exposed earth like dark daggers; those nearer to the surface catch sunlight at certain hours and dazzle the shadows aside with shuddering flickers of green. One such cluster opens up, the captured light lingering in the rough hewn entryway like a specter that comes and goes at the same time every day, every year, since it came to exist. It's close to the withering edge of the chasm, and when it rains, water conceals it completely. It's why the Progenitor chose it for its den -concealment and accessibility. It's why it returned here after centuries, to hide and sleep after having gorged itself on its lesser kind.
It has done away with what was left of that useless armor and held fast to what it could, fixing bone plates directly to the skin where it's black essence bleeds through and manifests like a layer of jet ink -the veins now matching, keeping it thickest on its vulnerable back and ribs. It had to shorten its tail, but was able to better stabilize it with weight and girth, the once singular barb now a set of four glimmering spikes and fixed to a cluster of bone just shy of too solid and too heavy. There are more spines on its back as well, smaller, not as sharp, but still deadly with the taste of poison.
Manticore sleeps deeply and dreams, though it never has before. Grimm don't dream. There needs to be a soul to dream and it most certainly didn't have one. Surely it's the host -it feels a little closer to the skin now, not necessarily one with the human but not entirely apart. It had no choice but to bind itself tighter to her life force, drink of it that much deeper or it would have died. Now it sleeps with visions of humans -some it knows, others it doesn't- and the sandpaper scratch of unconscious feelings stirring in its host's exhausted brain. It sleeps, coiled up on a huge shard of pitch Dust, and slowly, steadily mends itself.
The tail twitches, a little jerk. Relaxed fingers flex inward like a lazy trap, unconscious with the dull click of claws against bone.
Jaune...
It doesn't know the word or what it means, only that it has been pulsing like an electric heartbeat through its dreams for hours now. Maybe it's what the host calls one of the humans it keeps seeing as it sleeps, yes, maybe it's a name. A stupid name, the Old One decides bitterly. All the other words sparking through the aether must be names too, and again the ancient Grimm deems them stupid -though, admittedly, it plays a little mental game trying to match them to the blurred faces in its dreams, just for a moment of entertainment before coming to the conclusion that it's irrelevant because it intends to kill every last one of them. Slowly. Horribly. Toying with them as a proper predator does with prey too frail to slaughter right away. That is, if there's anything left by that point.
Jaune...
Another flinch, this one almost hard enough to jar it awake. But it isn't ready for that, it needs more time, a few more hours at the very least -maybe even until tomorrow night. And the host needs to be fed soon or else it couldn't continue the hunt at all. It could feel...something out there in the jungle, something just far away enough for its weakened senses to notice. It feels like hot static, a heat that raises the small hairs on its host's neck and resonates through the still tender hand print lingering warmly beneath the blackness on the young woman's skin. It feels alive, and where there is the bright, abrasive energy of life, it would bring death.
But first, it sleeps. At least it tries while ignoring its dreams and echoing thoughts.
Numb-nuts...
Especially that one.
(-)
In the beginning, their main concern was the safety of the villagers. They could do all but put concrete numbers to the amount of damage that was bound to come about once Manticore was flushed out, never mind the extremely high risk to the Faunus who called this place home. They came to the conclusion that evacuating them would be the best option, but the difficulty was quickly found in trying to answer the how and where of the equation. Having them gather on the western shore was explained away as a bad idea -if worst came to worst, it would just leave the survivors with the choice of dying to Grimm or to the sea. The nearest village wouldn't be much better, the populous was even thinner there and mostly made up of families doing what they can to survive. Might have to evacuate them as well, no telling just how bad the situation could get.
West Shore was a ghost town during monsoon season, everyone moving inland to weather the torrential rains and high waves. Likely they were the best prepared should things get truly out of hand. Beyond that, it was miles upon miles to the next village, further still to anything resembling a proper city with protective measures against Grimm. When it seems all other feasible options are written off, Blake mentions the capital and that there's a chance her parents would be willing to help. She's reluctant because it's awkward; she hasn't seen her parents or spoken to them in...quite a while, and it hadn't been under the best circumstances that she left. When Maab realizes she's a Belladonna, her glasses almost fall right off her face with surprise.
Eventually it's decided to at least make the effort, and Blake, Yang, as well as Billy's mother take an airship to Kuo Kuana which is perhaps a half hour's flight away. The rest remained behind and continue to suss out what preparations they could, waiting until their return later that afternoon -thankfully successful. With some quick math they believe it may take almost three hours to fully evacuate, though they can shave that time easily if the airship pilots are willing to push themselves a little. More still as the smaller, satellite homesteads declined the offer, preferring to die in their homes if that be the case.
Then came the matter of who stays and who goes, this being the cause for the majority of the arguments. Glynda is convinced she can handle Salem alone, while Maab has no reservations in telling her middle daughter in excruciating detail just how wrong she thinks she is -"Glynda, I love you, but we've been over this; you're being quite the idiot."
And while willing, the other members of Billy's pack -Matt and Elo, a Tortoise and Raven Faunus respectively, along with their mother won't be able to accompany Glynda either; the villagers needed them more. This only drives home Maab's point even more which, naturally, doesn't sit well with Glynda and only makes her resist that much harder. Makes it impossible for anyone else to get a word in while the two Witches snap at each other.
From time to time Rusty sneaks up to the top floor where they are, keeping them well stocked on tea and traditional orchati, laughing quietly at his grandson's excitement to try it and the subsequent face he makes when he's not quiet ready for how strong it is.
They continue to fuss in circles long into the night -after a point it just became a waiting game to see who would concede first. Neither of them look ready or willing to give in, they could easily go at this until sunup, and everyone in the room can sense it. But there simply isn't time for this, and finally Maab pulls her ace in the hole and offers Glynda an ultimatum.
"Break your focus right here and now and I'll let you go by yourself." and while no one could possibly know it, Maab is wholly confident of the outcome. Glynda won't do it, she knows she won't, her daughter is too fixed on maintaining control to go that far just to get her way. And she gives it a moment, watching Glynda's expression shift a handful of times -from quiet frustration, to heavy consideration, and then defeat- before nodding once. "The two Maidens and their Guardians are going, end of discussion."
"That was hardly a fair deal, mother."
"And this is hardly a fair fight; you're going to have to stack the deck in your favor if you want even half a chance." And again she watches her, feeling a certain softness as Glynda nods, obviously reluctant. "I know it's hard for you to rely on others aside from yourself, but it's your only option. Besides," her jade eyes ease across the room, lingering momentarily on the younger girls, "these kids deserve at least a little more credit than you're giving them."
Glynda says nothing, only inches her shoulders, dismissively neutral. But it's enough to change the energy in the room, the tension in the air no longer thick enough for a knife.
After a moment, Billy clears their throat. "Now what about the Lion? Am I to understand you mean to catch it?" they wait to see several nodding heads. "And then what? Where the hell do you suppose we keep it, supposing that's even possible? And what if we can't undo the spell that holds it to its host?"
"Maybe we can convince Matt to stay." Tag tries, "I know the villagers need him, but I think his Semblance would give us an advantage." And she's a little surprised when Billy agrees to the idea. "Could you talk to your mother?"
"I could, but let's assume she won't allow it. Then what? Or another thing, what about all the metal around here? Once the Lion picks up on it we're...how do the humans say it...screwed? We're going to have to move fast, and for all we know it might not allow us to catch it."
"We're going to try anyway." it's the first thing Jaune's said aloud all night. "We have to. I don't care if we have to go into this barehanded, we're going to try."
And he doesn't see it, but if Maab were smiling any wider the top of her head would surely fall off. "Thankfully that won't be necessary. I have countless armaments here in the house that aren't metal, so that's not the issue. However I also agree with Billy, they raise valid concerns. This will have to be swift and precise, the margin for error is all but nonexistent, and we're already at a disadvantage with it coming to us and having the chance to bring whatever reinforcements it can muster up along the way."
"Then maybe we find and raid it's den?" Glynda suggests cautiously.
Maab just shakes her head. "Too long to do that, I think. No reaching it by airship and even following the river would take us days, and if it can sniff out auras, it'd be on us before we even knew it was there. And you tried that already, didn't you?"
Glynda's expression flinches with a bit of guilt but then goes neutral again. "Very well. So we set a trap."
"Seems to be our best option." Maab nods once. "But what sort of trap do you lay for a creature like this? Mind you, Rusty can catch anything, it's his trade," then she laughs, "but it might take more than a few little snares to do this job."
"I could turn this whole jungle into a trap if I wanted." Tag tries not to sound too proud of the fact, because she isn't. Power that big isn't something to gloat about. "But we could set up several around the border of the village. At the very least we might be able to slow her down if she tries to flee or trip her up along with any other Grimm that follow her in."
"I can hold her with my Semblance too," Jaune adds meekly, unsure. "I-if push comes to shove."
"Then that will be a job for the three of you, though Rusty will be more of a supporting role -as much as he likes to think he's still sixty-years-young, he simply isn't. Still, he'll be there for you in a pinch. I'll be minding the house but also as a sort of backup for you should matters get desperate, and whoever is left will have to hold off the lesser Grimm until the Progenitor can be subdued."
"Am I to assume Team RWBY and I will be within the mirror at this point?" Glynda queries as she adjusts her glasses.
"I've been considering that. As we've already established, this is going to have to go off without a hitch, and I just can't see it being done without trying for two goals at the same time. If Salem's magic is part of what made the hybrid, it needs to be undone if we're to do anything other than kill it. And even though we all might want to march off into that mirror, not all of us can. I wish I had a better plan, truly, but I don't."
"It's just as well," Glynda deflates, "we've been around that bush several times already, no point in going again. So...when would we begin?"
Without conscious thought, everyone in the room takes a breath.
"Soon, naturally." Maab exhales. "Is the morning too soon?"
Heads turn, everyone looking back and forth for arguments or agreements. Tag is slowly nodding after a second. "Rusty and I could begin laying traps while the villagers are being shuttled out. By the time they're gone we should be ready, and then we can try luring the Lion to us. Gods only knows how long that'll take...if she falls for it in the first place."
"I don't think it has a choice." Billy counters, sounding comfortable in the assumption. "It'll show."
"She's not stupid, Billy," Jaune argues, "she isn't going to just walk into a fight she can't win. If she's still able to know when to cut and run, she'll be able to work around an ambush." And while the older Faunus doesn't contest it, he can tell by the dismissive lilt of their head that they don't really accept it either.
"Then perhaps it would be better for us old folks to hand this conversation off to you, grandson." Maab intercedes, "That is, you and your team, seeing as the lot of you would know best what to expect."
Jaune makes the face of someone who had just been spotted after trying so hard to go unseen -wide eyed with his jaw working noiselessly, surprised. His head swivels sharply on his neck, exchanging brief looks with Ren and Nora who seem to wait for him to speak. Then his gaze snaps back to his grandmother, his face no different than he looked away. "I-I...I mean, what's...Pyrrha is the best -the best in the world. I don't know how to explain that, and I definitely don't know how to prepare for that. I'm no strategist, hell, I'm barely a huntsman."
Glynda has to consciously restrain herself from openly agreeing. Now's not the time to throw him under the bus like that.
"I mean," his chin drops like his gaze and he shakes his head, "how do you prepare for someone who's always several steps ahead of you? Pyrrha had it down to a science, like every step was second nature. What are we supposed to do? What can we do?"
Maab doesn't answer straight away, though it's obvious she's thinking about it. Her vulpine ears perk and then start turning atop her head as inspiration steadily pulls her mouth into a soft but wide grin. "Barely a huntsman, you say? Jaune, have you ever heard the proverb of the champion's one fear? It's fairly old, so I can imagine you don't." she watches him shake his head, smiling a little wider. "To put it simply: champions do not fear the second best, or the third, or even the tenth; they fear the worst of the lot as they are predictable as the wind."
He blinks once, twice, three times before he tries "I...think I get it? But...I just don't see how that helps us."
"Well, after a fashion I'd be willing to bet this girl could figure all of us out in a fight, and if she's as good as you all say she might even be able to roll us over. And then there's you. She can't possibly think ahead of you because who knows what you're thinking? You can't anticipate something that might not be there."
"No, I get it, just,"
"Hey," Nora cuts in, her hand cupping his shoulder, "remember what you did to Cinder? Even she didn't see that coming." And she holds his gaze, hoping the worry on her team leader's face would eventually change into something more hopeful. It never does.
"She's right." Billy tips their chin. "Cinder didn't fight like a proper hunter, either, after a fashion she fought to kill, yet here you are. She even pulled one over on me, and I'm nearly thrice your age with the experience to support it. With that being said, if any of us can somehow pull this together and make it work, it would be you. Maybe by some small miracle, but it won't matter so long as we finish the job."
Now Jaune blinks at Billy. "That's like...probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Even Tag seems visibly impressed.
"Well, it's the truth, but you should know I'm banking more on your apparent idiot's luck than your skill."
"Fair enough." he sighs, expecting no less.
Ren lilts his head. "He's made it this far." and couples it with the smallest smirk, a gesture Jaune returns because he knows Ren means to encourage him.
"So between you and Rusty, this place should be a disaster looking for a Grimm to happen." and the little giggle coupled with the enthusiasm and excitement visible on Maab's face is more than a little unsettling. It's the look of someone wanting to pick a fight after too long of going without -which isn't far from the truth at all. Because Maab Renard may be old but she isn't dead, and she could be quoted to the notion that a good fight is just as good if not better than a good lay.
"But is he going to able to build a cubic ass load of traps in the course of a few hours?" Yang has to ask, but does so through a half-stifled yawn. "I mean, even if he rolls all night,"
"Oh, of course," Maab waves her hand, "that's nothing. You'd be surprised how simple some of his rigs are, and yet Grimm are still dumb enough to walk right into them. And with the Spring Maiden backing him up he could likely do it in his sleep."
The conversation steadily dissolves after that, the hour much too late to carry on much longer. The group breaks up into smaller pods, some going downstairs to find a spot on Maab's living room floor, others -namely Billy and Tag- venture out into the village to speak with Billy's mother. Glynda remains on the top floor, contemplating her father's portrait. Ruby and Weiss risk the walk back to the airship on the beach because the Winter Maiden simply wasn't sleeping where she was such easy access to countless biting insects -were it not for her aura, everyone would be able to see the little red spots left behind by gods knew what. Although Ruby had gone completely untouched, something Weiss was unashamedly jealous of. Blake and Yang didn't seem to mind it, the brawler likely too hot natured for bugs to risk getting too close to her or Blake, though the Faunus does have to flit her ears at a high pitched buzzing every now and then.
Jaune elects to stay awake a little longer with his grandparents, getting a crash course in trapping from Rusty along with a few initial ideas as to what types to lay and where to set them up. One that catches his interest in particular is Dust laced threads that Rusty meant to lay beneath the stilt houses where it's big enough to crawl under, just concealed beneath a thin layer of soil; if anything should set foot on it the thread will immediately start popping like a string of firecrackers. Troublesome, potentially harmful, but far from lethal and mostly meant to foil any Grimm attempting to sneak around. As he talks Jaune can almost hear his mother in Rusty's stout accent, and by the same token, whenever Maab looks over the rim of her glasses at him, he sees a little of her there too.
Ren and Nora have piled themselves into a corner of the living room, nestled beneath a blanket with their backpacks set aside as pillows for when they eventually lie down. Nora is just too anxious to sleep yet; even if Ren couldn't sense it grinding like sandpaper against his aura, he'd know it plain enough because she clings to him. Mind you, this is nothing new, but the way she tries to all but crawl under his skin is more than telling. Tucked under his arm she has both of her own around his chest, one hand a fist in his shirt as she tucks her head beneath his chin. Both her legs have locked around one of his, and from time to time she shudders. She's anxious and afraid because tomorrow just feels huge and terrible and the sooner she falls asleep, the sooner she'll have to wake up and look it in the eye. The sooner she falls asleep, the sooner she'll have to start having nightmares about what it's going to bring. Ren lets her feel it for just a little while before toning it down with little pulses of his Semblance while his hand smooths along the length of her spine, just enough so she can finally sleep.
Morning comes too soon. Jaune is quick to sit up as he feels Rusty shaking him, all but awake as he searches for his boots. Maab has prepared some food which he and his grandfather are quick to shovel down. From there they head out into the village to meet with Tag and start laying the remainder of the traps -Jaune leaves Ren and Nora to sleep a little longer, knowing they need it. The Otter Faunus is just coming in from the tree line as they emerge from the house, drawing their attention with a curt whistle and a wave. In the dull gray of almost dawn the three of them get to work. As they go, Jaune tries his best to remember and apply what Maab said about him last night, gently suggesting laying some snares in less than ideal places -places only an amateur would bother with- as well as arranging a collection of triggers for a single trap. Rusty and Tag catch on rather quickly, trying to take his lead which is shocking to the young huntsman.
Everyone else is up and about when they return to the house, finishing up the last of the food and as well their own preparations. The air inside has gotten heavier, and if it hadn't been tangible, it is certainly visible in the obvious tension everyone seems to be quietly carrying. Nora, as far as Jaune can tell, has it the worst; she's withdrawn, quiet, and mostly still which is everything she usually isn't. He's confident that he doesn't need to ask or imagine what's bothering her because part of him is all too aware, but once he accepts the notion, he can feel the weight of it on his own shoulders.
Billy walks in looking to be in a pleasant seeming mood with a fresh layer of black and white Dust paint on their face, the reason becoming apparent as everyone took note of the second Faunus in their shadow. Matt is short -coming up to Billy's sternum much like Tag- with big, square feet, tree trunk legs, a barrel shaped torso and big, meaty hands. Thick, bone looking plates the color of river stones cover his back starting from the base of his neck, disappearing beneath the brightly colored sarong tied to his waist -his belly pushes over the woven belt just a ways, but he's hardly what anyone would call fat. He doesn't jiggle when he walks, except for what he had always affectionately referred to as his "boy boobs". Ornate black tattoos adorn his sides and shoulders and forearms, rich darkness against warm brown skin. The outline of a new one is etched across his face, still red lines framing his high and round cheeks and soft jawline. His lush and curly black hair is tied back tightly from his face, exposing the streaks of gray for all to plainly see. His weapon hangs in part from one shoulder, a solid bone hook -likely harvested from a whale or some other such giant thing- that is nearly as tall as he is. Attached to its blunt end is a thick and heavy stretch of braided leather that he has gathered up neatly and hung from his belt.
After a quick round of greetings and proper introductions, Matt joins with Maab and his pack mates in the kitchen where they fill him in on the finer points of what all this is about. Imagine the look on his face when he hears they mean to catch the Lion as opposed to their original intent to destroy it. Naturally he thinks the idea is ludicrous, and he can see it on Billy's face that they agree but aren't willing to say so out loud, and the expression remains in a way even after he's given an explanation as to why.
His muscular arms cross his chest and he shakes his head, uncertain trouble darkening his usually easygoing features. "It's not that I don't believe ya, Tag, y'know that isn't it. But... is it worth putting us all at risk again? Wouldn't it just be better to put the poor kid out of her misery? I mean...it's Nature's way -shouldn't dead stay dead?"
"Were the circumstances that simple, I'd agree with you," the Maiden concedes, "but it just isn't. I have to help her, I don't have a choice, you know that." then she takes in a chestful of air. "Look...I'll understand if you can't do this, you lost family to this too, but I truly wish you would help us."
After a moment he shakes his head again, but he's smiling reluctantly. "Y'know I can't say no to ya."
"Yes you can."
"No I can't." He laughs, a little puff of air that makes his shoulders bounce. "Even if you weren't pack leader, I love ya too much to disregard you like that. So...what do y'need me to do?"
From there it is a matter of waiting and making the final arrangements until the airships returned. Everyone who intended to stay behind began to strip themselves of any and all metal, offering it up to Maab and Rusty for safe keeping. The Witch in turn presented each of them with a different weapon or bit of armor made from either bone, stone, or hardwood. Glynda nearly has a heart attack when Maab comes down from the top floor with her father's amethyst breastplate and sword in her arms. Before she can get any words out, Maab shakes her head and cuts her off.
"It's the best armor available, Glynda, and if my grandson is expecting to take a lot of hits, I'm making sure he has the best chance of getting back up. I love you, dear, but this isn't open for discussion. Now, Jaune," she stands in front of him now, her back to her still fuming daughter, "let's get you out of that coat -how the hell do you stand to still wear it?- but Osric was a bit of a stilt so it might not fit right if you have it on underneath." she doesn't give him a chance to respond. "In any case you can put it on over the armor, it'll think you're not wearing any at all and that will work in you favor. Hm, looks like it hangs on you rather well," she has him holding it place as she looks him over. Then she quickly moves behind him, having to jump to grab the thick leather laces and pull them, closing the straps tight to Jaune's back. She ties a particularly snug knot and then pats him on the back of the leg to let him know she's finished. "And here's the sword, whoever made it didn't balance it properly so it might be awkward."
Jaune takes a hold of it in his dominant hand, finding it lighter than he expects. "...Feels fine, actually. Although...does it actually cut anything?"
"You think I'd keep it if it didn't?"
"..."
"Good. Now I'll have to go get the-,"
"I've got it." Rusty announces as he reaches the bottom of the the stairs, the matching shield tucked under one arm. He crosses the floor with no visible hurry, though he seems a little surprised when Maab steps aside to let him through. "Here you are, grandson, might be a bit heavy."
"It is, but not much more than my shield. Thank you."
"Excellent. Now, Rusty, would you fetch Ulthane out of the bedroom?"
"For who?" and he laughs, his gray brows going cockeyed. "None of these young'ns are tall enough to ride that ride,"
"Our Storm Witch is,"
"No." Nora shakes her head without hesitation, taking a step away from where she's been standing, her posture shrinking like a skittish animal. "I can't. I'm sorry. I just...I can't."
Jaune looks at her, catches her gaze and sets a sympathetic expression. "What's wrong?"
"I just...it's Pyrrha. How am I supposed to..." she tucks her lip between her teeth, anxiously hugging herself and pumping her hands up and down her biceps. "She's still my friend and I still love her and I can't do this and-and-and-" the rest just won't come though she tries.
Jaune feels himself deflate, his heart breaking a little. He turns to her, chances a step or two until he sees she'll allow him to approach. "I understand how you feel." he turns the blade towards the floor before taking it in his shield hand, leaving the other free enough to coax its way into her shaking one. "I wish we didn't have to do it this way, but we do. It's probably going to be one of the hardest things we'll ever have to do," he takes another breath, not continuing until she looks him in the eye. She looks like she's about to cry. "But it's like you said, it's Pyrrha. I love her too, and I want to help her no matter what,"
Nora drops her chin, breaking eye contact as she chokes down a sob. "You can't expect me to hurt her,"
"And I don't." he takes another step, his voice softening. "I don't. Just help, okay? Just help Tag do what she has to do, that's all. Please."
She's quiet for a long moment, mostly still save for the few seconds she gives to look at Ren, perhaps in search of something. Finally she wipes her eyes across her forearm and sucks it down, lifting her head to give her team leader a half reluctant nod. "Okay. I can do that."
"Thank you."
Only then did Rusty do as Maab asked. Turns out Ulthane is a hammer of comparable size to Magnhild, maybe a touch larger with a head of solid, pitch Dust and a stone handle. Naturally she hefts it like it's nothing, and all Rusty can do is stare before muttering "these kids" under his breath. Lastly Ren is given a pair of flint knives to take Stormflower's place. He's grateful, the blades are roughly the size he's accustomed to, but he still longs to hold his guns.
It isn't long at all after everyone is armed and ready that the telling, dull roar of a passing airship rolls over the village, drawing their attention up towards the ceiling on a reflex. Then they all just look at each other, feeling the energy in the room change in the blink of an eye. Rusty and Maab are the first to move, the two heading up the staircase and speaking in low tones back and forth. Glynda is quick to follow, certain Team RWBY wouldn't be far behind. And they won't be, but they don't make a move for the stairs until they have offered up hugs and wishes for good luck to the others. Good luck, look after each other, do your best even if you don't think it's enough, be careful, Otter-mom -fairly standard. Then the two teams split, going their separate ways to attend their separate tasks.
On the top floor they can see the mirror has been moved against a different wall, uncovered and still inactive. Maab perches in one of the open windows looking down into the village, no doubt watching as the others move into place. Once she knew Manticore was close she would open the mirror, and while her own aura is spreading out as far as it can like little feelers for its presence, she is also counting on Tag's signal, the Spring Maiden would likely know it before she did. So they wait, quiet and anxious.
There's an unsettling feeling amongst the early morning mist, it's much too quiet. This is prime hunting time for some predators, same for foraging prey, but there's no sign or sound of anything moving out in the treeline.
Already Tag is reaching out with her aura, tentatively pushing it along with small doses of magic to get an initial feeling of what's around her. What she feels matches what she hears: nothing. Whatever wildlife usually roams this area has long since gone, as if the animals know what's coming. She pushes further, still finding not even a flicker of moving life, and feels confident to let it go as it pleases. She'll eventually settle to stand near the center of the village, at the trunk of one of the towering trees and watch the others moving into position in her peripherals. Billy and Jaune are closest to her -the short pelt on her tail bristles when she senses the young man's aura mingling with her own- and Nora and Ren were somewhere behind her. Matt used the great length of his hook's tether to pull himself into the boughs of the tree, roosting on its thickest but lowest branch that's still easily thirty feet from the ground.
When the Maiden susses out the energy of the river to the southeast she lets the magic follow it; Maab had shown her a map of where the Lion's Tomb was supposed to be located at the tributary's heart. Best place as any to feel for the hybrid's presence. A third of the way along its length she starts to feel flickers of life, and just after comes the distinct, prickling sensation of Grimm.
Her shivering cringe draws Jaune's attention. "You all right? Feel something?"
She nods, shaking off the last of the disgust. "But it's not her, not yet." With a mental push she casts her magic wider, covering miles more that much quicker. When she finally zeroes in on it the interference of their energies colliding feels like something hooking her guts and trying to pull them through her navel. For a split second everyone looks at her, alarmed as she fights through the urge to puke, but she nods her head with a gesturing hand to assure them she's still all right. Finally she pants "She's coming. And she's not alone."
"How long?" Billy asks.
"...Maybe a few minutes."
Tag nods and then turns her head, catching Maab's gaze from her perch in the window and waving one hand.
Maab jumps down from her perch and quickly crosses the floor to the mirror, all eyes on her as she comes to stand beside it. "Ready, ladies?"
Not a word, but the answer is obvious enough. Maab uses a little burst of aura to lift herself off the ground, suspended in midair as she extends her finger to touch the top of the mirror's reflective surface. Carefully, steadily she traces the rim, leaving behind a glowing trail of deep emerald light. The glow steadily intensifies until she completes the circle, dropping back to the floor and taking a step back as the magic in the relic shudders to life -something everyone in the room can feel. The entire mirror glows for all of a second, then the light pulls back, collapsing into a pinprick as the mirror itself appears to sink inward. Further and further back until it breaks open into a gaping blackness. There's a current of chilled but stale air pulling goosebumps over everyone, the dull whistle of its movement enough to reassure them that this is real and it's happening.
"Glynda," she waits until she's certain of her daughter's attention, "do what you must. No matter what that means."
"I know. I will."
The older Witch nods once, resigned. Then she exhales. "There's no telling where you'll come out on the other end, so you best be ready for anything." Another breath, though this one doesn't sound as hopeless as the first when she sees the Maidens and their Guardians joining hands and holding tight to each other. "Good luck."
Glynda doesn't make time to linger, and Team RWBY is quick to follow her, swallowed up by the absolute darkness within the mirror. The world they leave behind lingers and gradually shrinks in their wake, flickering like a firefly until it blinks out completely. Now it's just them and the dark and its haunting stillness. There is no sound, they can't even hear themselves breathe, and the gusts of wind that had been were now extinguished like the light. They just keep pushing forward, always forward, with no heading, only a blind hope and a silent prayer for the other side. And as they pass through the veil between, time stretches and thins, all but stopping, and there's a cold shudder of stagnant, dead energy -too much like the sensation of someone having walked over the mass grave they could all be headed into.
The other side appears an impossible distance away, a dwarf star of dim purple light. Hands grip tighter and feet move faster, but there's no real way of knowing if the space between is closing at all, much less if it's at a quicker pace than before. But, after a breath hitching moment, it appears to draw closer. When they finally reach it Glynda gestures with her hand for the younger women to hang back, she wants to examine this herself first. At a glance its a pane of glass as tall as she is, or so it appears, and she chances to touch it. It's flat against the darkness, smooth and solid under her fingers and opaque. She pushes against it, finds it unmoving. Pushes a little harder and it won't budge an inch. She's certain now, it would take a little more magic to pass through completely, and that would likely alert anyone or anything on the other side to their presence. "Brace yourselves," she breathes, not realizing that her voice doesn't carry at all in this space, she's only hearing it in her head.
With her hand pressed against it, fingers splayed apart, she summons up the power that's deeper than her Semblance and gathers it in her palm. There's a faint jade glow that steadily amplifies, spreading along each digit until it bleeds into the glass. Almost immediately she can feel the barrier soften beneath her hand, the slightest give allowing it to flex inward. With her other hand she motions the girls forward, hurrying them through to the other side before following suit.
The almost suffocating emptiness closes into a much more concise, measurable space where everything is a faintly crimson and amethyst hue, from the sky that they can see through the jagged openings in the chamber walls, to the solid stone beneath their feet. The air is cold and abrasive and moves only slightly with an unsettling breeze. Steadily the five of them take tentative steps, gently spreading out as they take it all in. And while they don't sense immediate danger, not a one of them is at ease.
Looking around they see the wall of purple volcanic glass, likely what they had just stepped through from the veil, a collection of dark and gaping recesses in the wall that are probably the mouths of tunnels, and a pile of stones that appeared to have maybe once been a seat had it not been for the incredible split down the middle. Above them the room rises and disappears into a yawning darkness. Ruby notices a few feathers on the floor, enormous and black, but not so big that the little winds didn't push them about. For a time she can't focus on anything else but that, bumping one that's close to her with the tip of her boot, then she realizes her hands are empty and quickly remedies that. Her teammates do the same.
"We'll start searching the tunnels." Glynda's tone is firm, hushed. "No one goes anywhere alone."
"Can't you sense her presence? I mean, she's your sister," Yang swivels her head around, feeling the need to look behind her, suspicious.
"I'm trying, but there's...interference." She can't find Salem for lack of trying, but she's all but blind. It's like snow and white noise on a television in her head, her aura picking up nothing but blurs and frayed edges that she can't explain.
She can't find Salem because she's moving, but not the way humans or even Witches move. Not on foot or by mirror or slight of hand, but as the Grimm move. She moves as the Progenitors moved before they took shape from the primordial ooze of their creator, as an amorphous mass that eases through the narrowest spaces without hindrance up through the fortress from the hollow she was hiding in. The darkness in Salem was well aware of how it was nearly separated from its host, it's more than wary now, and it has every intention of erasing the threat that has dared to enter its stronghold. And as it rises higher through the bones of the structure to its destination, where its prey waits, it reaches out to its other kin that call the fortress home.
Glynda's only aware of her presence in the milliseconds before the white-skinned Witch makes the first move. Within a blink Salem has materialized seemingly out of nowhere before them, molten crimson eyes alight with fire and hate and flaring hotly at her older sister. Glynda has a plan, she swears mentally that she has a plan and that it will work but it doesn't matter. She can't even fully tense her muscles in reaction before the air in the chamber stirs wildly, cold and abrasive and with a flurry of feathers as something swoops down from the gaping black above them.
Author's Note: Writing is hard. That's really the gist of this one. The set up felt nearly impossible, and none of it feels right. But still, it is what it is. Next chapter, well, you can imagine, so I'll let you. Hope you enjoy.