The White Huntress
Chapter 5: A Message
Blake heaved out heavy breath as she stared at the shadows of the rotting wall. She didn't know how many hours it had been, but she had exhausted her aura four times now sending out a constant stream of clones. Though Jinn neglected to show her just how much and for how long Nero trained, she had to make due with what she did see. She had to somehow figure out how Nero formed a physical connection between his shadow clones and literal shadow. It was the first step before she could challenge him, know him.
But she didn't just try and copy him. She tried to make her clones move on their own—if only for a split second. She tried to have them collide with things without dissipating. She tried to make them even grab onto things. She got to a point where her clones lingered for longer, but made little progress everywhere else. Maybe I just have to get them to last long enough before that connection will start to appear, she thought. Or maybe it's something else all together. Something I'm not seeing. Jinn herself mentioned how she was holding herself back; that her view of her own semblance was the wrong perspective. That seeing it as a tool to run away, to avoid things was stifling her. She knew that already, but Jinn implied something else. Something...darker.
A thought was smuggled into her head through that dark feeling. A thought...and memories. Bad memories of Nero's life—his violence-filled path, his hatred. She began to think that perhaps that different perspective might not be one she'd be willing to take on. That Nero's usage of their semblance was one much more suited to assassination, to killing—than running, dodging, and scapegoating. Perhaps then there wasn't any hope. Her semblance would remain the way it was, and she'd be at a permanent disadvantage against her other half unless she too let her heart be consumed by rage and hate. Though even if she wanted to pursue such a bestial path, where would she even start? Deliberately chasing after something like that wouldn't work; it wouldn't be sincere, authentic, or honest.
Though such thoughts were counterproductive. She had steeled herself. During her training, she was even inspired to come up with a way of sending Nero a message in the midst of her recalling how he did things. It was the result of her remembering something as stupid as what he wore and what he was called. It was a way of letting him know directly "I'm still around. I'm still alive and I know you, Nero." It was a way of doing all that without informing Frost that she was still alive. It was her way of reaching out to Nero in a way that might make him more open with her the next time they met. That finally, finally they could have an open and honest conversation with each other.
The problem with her plan was how she was going to get the items. Leaving the house as not only a legendary huntress, but the leader of a well-known group that regularly appeared in the media without being noticed? That wasn't going to happen. Her first step in between training sessions and resting was finding a way to safely wander the Lower City without being caught.
A knock came at the door to the small little room she was in. "Come in!"
Maris walked in with what looked like a black hoodie and a broad, toothless smile. He had some chalky white substance on his dark green t-shirt and his pants were ragged more than usual. "I got you something. You were concerned about people learning that you're here, and I wouldn't want you to be cooped up in here forever, so I thought I'd go out into town and see if there was anything that could help out."
She returned his smile with her own—though not as broad. "Thanks. I really appreciate it." Well, that solves that issue. It never crossed her mind to ask them to give her something to hide herself. She only mentioned her concern because she learned Pott had been telling all her friends she was in her home. But thanks to Maris, she'd save quite a bit of time and worry.
He unfolded the hoodie and held it up. "And if it's still lacking in the "hide your appearance" department, Pott should have a scarf or two she'd be happy you lend you."
"Thank you. Again, really. I'm not sure how to repay you," she said, almost solemnly. Maris and Pott had done so much for her with what little they had, and now in a way, they were becoming her accomplices. She worried what Frost would do if she found out that not only was she still alive, but had been harbored by these folk. Frost didn't seem the type to do anything, however, so hopefully that wasn't too much of a concern. Then again, she didn't know enough about Frost to be certain.
"Hey, don't worry about it!" He said cheerfully. "Honestly, the best thing you can do for us is to get back out there and do what you do best. We may not have the best technology to stay perfectly up to date, but we know that it's still a very scary world out there." He frowned much to her surprise. "Mistral...got hit hard by whatever happened in the Upper City, and many folk are gonna have trouble adjusting. Many faunus as well." His expression lifted. "So consider us helping you as doing our part in getting things back to normal around here."
She smiled again and nodded. "In that case, I better get to work." She took the hoodie and put it on. "Do you need any groceries? I could go pick some up while I'm out."
He scratched his head. "If it's not too much trouble..."
She chuckled a little. "Not at all. Two birds with one stone and all that."
"Well, thanks for that then. In the meantime, I'll get everything cleaned up in preparation for dinner."
She smiled warmly, walking passed him, and out the door. "Sounds great. I'll try not to take too long!" And with that, she walked out of their rundown, yet welcoming home that only made her wonder if there really was something else she could do for them. As she walked out into the streets she noticed this particular street of tattered homes bore pretty bad damage; caved-in homes, ten feet high or more of stones piled on top of each other. Ash, soot, burnt wood, burnt metal, and...bodies. Many of them had been covered up with white cloths.
Whichever parts of the Upper City collapsed into the Lower City, this clearly wasn't one of the worst areas hit, though such an area was obviously close enough once she realized the collected and stacked debris in front of peoples houses that indicated they were out busy scavenging. Bits and pieces of burnt metal not reminiscent of metal used here with some of it horribly bent, yet still good. Broken beams of wood, and piles of stone broken into head-sized chunks were all lined up throughout the neighborhood, and there was some even in front of Maris and Potts' house. She wondered how often he went outside to scavenge.
She made a mental note of some of the metal that seemed to be scavenged from Atlesian airships. Some of it even seeming to come from weaponry wielded by knights; she might be able to use some of that. She continued on passed each house, scanning them one by one, side by side as she pulled up the collar of the hoodie to make sure her face was hidden within the hood. Hopefully no one would find someone walking around with her head covered like that suspicious.
At the end of the street came a decline that spiraled further into the Lower City. She could tell it was one of the...more unsavory areas given the stench. It was concerning that Maris and Pott lived so close to this place, yet what could they do about it?
As she descended further, the large portions of mossy stone, massive piles of rocks, and large platforms split in two clued her in that she finally stumbled into the very area that seemed to take the most damage from the falling platforms. The pathway itself led into a dimly lit street littered with the shattered remains of fine buildings. Fine for the Lower City that is. Fine enough that perhaps she had found the right place.
She had no scroll, but she luckily still had some money. Someone around here should be able to give her what she needed; like the mask she wanted. It was something she settled on immediately. As for her weapon, she had no idea what she was going to do about that. Getting a weapon made here of all places was going to be difficult.
But first thing's first. She walked along the path, checking each building and stall. She needed an outfit. Preferably one that was white. If only she had her old jacket, she could've probably added to it a little. While searching for one, she happened upon a stall that was selling masks. The type that were sold for festivals and for fans of certain plays that were periodically held here. There was a fox mask, a dog mask, a cat mask, a frog mask, and a whole bunch of other ones that didn't suit her fancy. She put a finger to her chin. Which one do I want…
She continued to scan until a lion-like mask caught her eye. She moved closer to the stall which wasn't getting a lot of business given the fact that the merchant was sleeping on the job. "Excuse me," she said as she raised her collar higher while forcing the hood further over the top of her head. She even made sure to raise the pitch of her voice a little.
The merchant suddenly snored himself awake. "Huh, huh, huh! What, what? Oh! A customer! What can I get you?"
She pointed to the lion one. "That one." It was a plain mask of wooden make. That worked in her favor as she could add in the details herself to cover the fact that she bought it from a stall.
The short, stocky man reached up and grabbed the mask, placed it on the counter and rang it in as she quickly tossed the appropriate amount of lien on the counter. "Thank you very much! Do come again!"
She waved him off as she walked way. Now I just need the cloak, belt, some dust, and the groceries, she thought.
Frost walked down the wet, tattered road of Lower Mistral beneath the cloak of night. The moon was full on the shattered side. Parts of the mountainside had collapsed over many of the houses; entire platforms had also collapsed, taking out entire portions of Mistral's underworld. "What the hell was the governor thinking? I thought he and the boss were on the same side," she said to Flare. The rubble had changed the landscape enough that she wasn't sure she was going the right way. Where the hell was the Vault? She thought.
Flare Dorn combed his bright orange hair back with his hand. He tightened the strap which held his large cannon of a gun on his back and kept his eyes straight, refusing to take in any of the damages around him. "Well, I wouldn't worry about that. The boss seems perfectly fine. If you ignore his obvious infatuation with Blake Belladonna."
Hearing that very name still pissed her off despite the fact that she was gone now. She still wasn't convinced it was love. Not that kind of love, but definitely something. The moment she's gone, he gets all broody and serious all of a sudden? Sure, it got him back on track, but only in the "I've got nothing else to lose" sort of way, which of course bothered her. It wasn't good enough for her. He had to focus. This was bigger than them, bigger than him, and if he wasn't going to take it seriously, she and the others would just have to force him to.
Flare sighed. "What did you and Terra do to her by the way?"
Thankfully, the road was more or less clear, and they were speaking quietly enough that the people present wouldn't overhear them. If people got wind of what they did to Blake… "You remember what the boss told us about the warriors and relics, right? Well, I simply lured her near the relic and it did the rest." It wasn't like she didn't feel bad about it, but that kind of thinking was precisely the problem. That kind of thinking would get them all killed. Whatever admiration she held for the cat faunus was something she had no choice but to kill.
He whistled. "That easy, was it? You'd think the Blake Belladonna would be a little more cautious."
She furrowed her brow but never turned to look at him. "Which is the problem! She's too nice and trusting of people. She gives people chances, errs on the side of nonviolence, and always tries to make the best of things. That kind of thinking won't work with what we're up against." She sighed, pushing aside old memories. "Unfortunately, the boss is the only one who can win. Him and his companions."
Flare paused for a few seconds. "Speaking of which..."
Frost blew a strand of her light blue hair off her face. "No, I don't know anything about the others or what they're doing. Which is frankly none of our concern. Our job is to ensure the boss stays on task, no matter the cost." She sighed. "Which is why we had to get rid of Blake."
Flare raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get rid of Blake, anyway? Not sure why we're scouring around this dump when we could go straight there."
Flare wasn't the type of guy who would understand. She had grown up in places like this. This dump of a place was not too uncommon for faunus like her back then, and it was Blake that served as her role model. She had looked up to Blake, wanted to be like her, wanted to meet her one day. "I'm just checking out the damages, is all. Lot of crazy stuff happened during the battle."
Flare snorted. "Being sentimental are we? I dig it. Though if we intend to force the boss to stay on track, I suggest we don't stay too long and get to doing our job of scanning the remnants of the Vault of any latent magic. That is more important than anything, remember? Especially if we're being sentimental."
Frost rolled her eyes. "Hey, look, I get it. I know the mission, and I know what's at stake. Just give me a freakin minute alright?"
He laughed. "Alright, alright, have it your way."
They walked, walked, and walked. She did take the time to take everything in. She wasn't stupid. Sacrifices had to be made and only monsters made those sacrifices easily. So she forced herself to absorb it all; what they did, what they will do, and how many lives it would cost. But there was no other way. So she focused. She focused on them. The people. The peoples' expressions varied widely, but all around a central theme: keep busy. A blacksmith over by a pile of scrap metal looked like she had seen it all. A courier was out passing mail and looked to be enthralled in his work as he rushed from person to person, never missing a beat, never slowing down.
A few of the spiders were here as well, and even they had expressions which shifted from a forced sternness to keep up images to slight frowns and sad eyebrows as they fidgeted with nervous ticks. They knew it, she knew it, Flare knew it, Aqua knew it, Terra knew it—they all knew it. No one was safe anymore. The sooner they got used to it the better.
She sighed. "Alright. I think I'm done." Good timing too. Taking it all in helped her remember where they were. She now knew where to find that cave entrance.
Cinder looked over to Azure who raised her head high. The leader—clad in darkened leathers, arms crossed—stood firm, tall, and straight. She took in adeep breath. "Listen up!" She shouted. "No one is to interfere! Give them a wide berth, don't be too rowdy, and don't be stupid by clumping up together!"
Azure looked down to them. Cinder looked over to Owain who looked up to Azure. Then, and only then, did she take her eyes off him completely. "This is not a fight to the death. I understand that Vecter here has the same semblance as Yang, so I won't declare this fight to be finished once the first person's aura breaks. Instead, when it looks like one of you is near death, I'll fire a shot and that'll be the end of the match. Disobey and I'll order everyone to open fire and kill you both. Understood?"
Cinder smirked. Damn, this lady has a strong sense of command, doesn't she? I like that, she thought. "I'm fine with that." She side-eyed Owain, waiting for his response. Why Vecter? Why that alias? It wasn't something she was too keen on focusing on, but learning more about her enemy—in whatever way she could—was always useful.
Owain remained cool, betraying not a single emotion. "Understood." He looked over to her and began to take a few steps back—something she mimicked. The strange, tiny red lacerations on his face were more noticeable than before. They seemed to have a low shine to them. Perhaps that was simply the light of the towering lamppost stationed just off to the edge of camp. "Does Yang know you're here?"
Cinder titled her head to the side and grinned. "No, actually. This is a...surprise visit. I overheard Raven speak over her scroll and mention you. So I decided to pay you a visit. Tie up loose ends and all that."
Owain cocked a toothless smile. One that seemed a little eerie. "I don't think I'll be too fond of that."
She raised an eyebrow. "What?" What a strange little remark.
His smile seamlessly shifted to his usual scowl. "Don't worry about it."
Cinder jerked over to one of the mercenaries as he tossed Owain a makeshift blade. It was curved, just how he liked it though it was a far cry from the weapon he wielded as governor. It had tape all over the guard and the blade itself was rusted. He wasn't serious, was he? She thought as she stared the guy down as he did the same; his expression stern, cold, and fearless. His aura was activated, but surely that wasn't enough. Surely the man who had sacrificed most of his soul, who was now unarmored, who no longer wielded a familiar weapon, could defeat her? She had awakened the source of the very power she had long sought out for most of her life, shouldn't that be enough?
Flashes of her final trial to win such a power rushed into her head again. His words ringed in her mind. You are weak, he said, again and again. She knew that willpower was the source of his strength. It was something he argued in that trial, and recalling that strengthened her guard and pushed away any arrogance she had left. She had to take this seriously. She kept telling herself that. He was a threat; a dragon—fangs bared and claws primed. One wrong move meant her throat would be rent open and what remained of her would be nothing more than meat for the taking.
She turned her head to gaze over her shoulder at her friends. "Stay out of this," she said quietly with an eye on Em. She faced forward. "If I can't beat him by myself in his weakened state, then that's a problem." She wanted to ensure Emerald wouldn't interfere with her semblance without Azure or anyone else knowing. She didn't want that.
"Got it," Em said. "Though if you're about to die..."
She let out a low laugh. "Fine. But save it for an emergency. Don't jump the gun."
As they began to circle around their "arena" like hands on a clock, surrounded by the mercenaries of the tribe who cheered them on, she let her instincts take control. They screamed caution, which meant body and soul were one. She formed a blade of crystalline darkness in her left hand and gauged his reaction. Nothing. His guard never shifted and neither did his expression.
His shoulder-length blonde hair and light brown cloak swayed with the gusts of wind gracing their battlefield. The cloak was tightly strapped over his right side, hiding his missing arm while his left was exposed; it revealed the rusted black gauntlet of his old armor. Was he right handed or left handed? She couldn't remember. Maybe he was ambidextrous. She wanted to know. Every little bit of information she could gleam from him would give her an edge. Perhaps a blindspot to exploit.
They stopped in place. The wind picked up, shifting the sand into a mist. The cheers died down as she tightened the grip on her sword. Remember, he doesn't have much left. Break his aura and he'll be forced to burn away what's left of his soul to survive. What happened when the last of it was burnt away was a concern, but not much of one if she was being honest with herself. The worst case scenario in that event meant that somehow he'd become some monstrous grimm, but that only worked in her favor.
She leaned forward, held the blade back, and prepped for a charge. Yeah, that's right. Just don't be stupid, and you'll be fine, she told herself. She blazed towards Owain in almost an instant with the blade extended for a thrust. He parried, kneeing her backward as he did. She skidded backwards. She stopped herself, planted her feet, and put up her guard. Owain didn't press the attack. In fact, he was completely unmoved, his swordarm rested lazily at his side as always. After what she just said to Em, there was a part of her that was insulted by that.
So it wasn't just power, he's incredibly skilled too, she thought as she wondered what sort of battles would have hardened his skills to such a degree. Skills so refined as to be able to easily parry an empowered maiden all while being a broken shell of his former self. It was unfair in fact; to have such a powerful semblance that could be made even more powerful by simply sacrificing his soul for more power, and yet he was still given the right to refine his abilities and his techniques. It was so unfair that it pissed her off. It reminded her of how foolish she was in the past. In fact—and perhaps not because of coincidence—it reminded her of Raven and their duel in the vault; it reminded her of how she began to lose once the tide of battle shifted in Raven's control. Raven had been a lot more experienced than her. It didn't matter than they were equal in power.
That memory stayed with her all this time. It was a scar on her pride. The memory made her eye Shay who mentioned aloud that Owain was Raven's son. Why would he think that? She wondered as she refocused on the man himself in front of her who still remain stationary. A concern for another time, she thought as she made another exploratory charge as he—a split second away from being gutted—swerved to the side and swung down—her aura taking the crushing blow which should have been cutting.
She blasted herself away, hoping to catch him in the blast. She eyed him through the smoke. Still unmoved, still unfazed, and still focused entirely on her. Another refined action. Even more proof that he was far more skilled than she was. As much as she originally thought that her key to victory was overwhelming power she knew now that that wasn't the way. The tiny little dream she had of overpowering the Berserker whittled away as if it were never there.
She stood up straight, wiped away some sand off the gold embroidery of her red halfrobe as she formed a shield of darkness in her right hand.
Owain's mouth slowly opened as if to speak. "It seems you've learned your lesson. You always were one to rush in without thinking. Your arrogance has always been your greatest weakness. It has always been your single most limiting factor."
She furrowed her brow, feeling the weight of his words. She recalled his earlier words and his mentioning of August. In any other time, especially in the past, she'd have brushed him off as a madman who was full of himself, but his words revealed something. He knew her. The question was how? Before the attempted assassination, they had never met. And Ana never knew her well enough to give him such information. And he spoke with such familiarity that it actually irked the hell out of her. Who in the hell are you, Owain? Being Raven's son did absolutely nothing to answer that question, even if it were true. And Owain wasn't the type of guy to answer any question she would ask. So...
She brought her shield up, held her sword back, and charged again and as Owain sidestepped, she held up the shield as it took Owain's crushing swing and in that very instant, she blew it up, leaping backwards to safety as the darkened flames released forced Owain to stumble away. She leaped at him with a ferocity of a predator pouncing on prey that could escape in a mere moment. As the flames cleared, he took a step back and swung his sword upward as a wave of yellow energy ripped through the air and crashed against her as she skidded across the ground.
She saw the bright fiery shine of his hair fade away through the smokey sand settling to the ground in the explosive aftermath. Yet she never saw his aura flicker. So he used his semblance, she thought. The damage of the blast was intense but not enough to worry her. Why would he use it so prematurely? His parrying, his dodges, and now his early use of his semblance—he was being cautious! She fought off the need to grin. If he was being cautious, that meant I'm dangerous. I'm a threat to him! She thought giddily. That last exchange also taught her something else; her shield tactic was effective. If she can't hit him, she'll just have to punish his counters. Use his own style against him; return damage with damage.
She formed another shield in her left hand and jetted to him again. Owain disarmed the shield from her and spin kicked her with enough force to send her flying and crashing into the ground. She jumped back to her feet and spat. Well, that's what I get for doing the exact opposite of what I said I was going to do, she thought as she took that exchange as a message from Owain that she was getting a little ahead of herself. No way taking him down was going to be that easy, you idiot. How many times do you have to tell yourself that? She thought. Her old habits were hard to break. She wasted no time in taking advantage of even the slightest moment of opportunity.
But how? How was she going to do it? The plan was simple enough, but he was too skilled to let any tactic work more than once. Her shield was out of the question now, so she needed something else. Some other unavoidable attack. As she tried to formulate a plan, the cheers grew louder, egging them on, as Owain remained unmoved, waiting for her to make the first move. That's a problem, she thought, realizing why he was so calm and collected; he was prepared for her. He was in a position to counter anything she did, precisely because he was waiting for her. Massive area attacks were no good; killing the Branwen Tribe would only draw the ire of the others. Failing to kill them if she tried meant they'd gun her down instantly. And such attacks had no guarantee of working. What to do, what to do? She thought anxiously.
She gritted her teeth. Getting frustrated at her failure to come up with a plan, she decided to bite the bullet, and take a risk.When have you ever been the one to fight like a coward? She thought. Don't you remember? This is why you recruited Emerald and Mercury in the first place!She charged with reckless abandon, cloaking herself in darkened flames as she attacked with a fury of darkened swords she crafted to shatter on impact in an attempt to stop his parries. I'll fight my way, and my way alone! The first two strikes failed as he still parried them; her timing was off. But she tried and tried again.
With every swing she made she shifted her timing, detonating each sword the moment they touched his own. She only shattered the blade and not the whole sword. They continued their heated dance; she swung, he parried, she swung, and he continued to parry. It was his only move. As if he were mocking her, looking down at her, telling her "even with this you aren't good enough." You are weak, she remembered. Despite the small area of the blasts, they were beginning to dissolve his blade. So she pressed the attack—again, and again, and again until she saw his aura flicker from the constant shrapnel of tiny dark sparks. With a forceful overhead swing, she shattered her blade against his, eradicating it, and forcing Owain to reel away.
She took a step back. Now, NOW was her chance! She charged with a bit fat smile on her face with a dark crystalline spear in hand like a jouster. "What can you do now without a weapon?" She shouted with glee.
Owain gave a mirthless smile. Red electricity crackled around him. He brought his fist back, his hair lit aflame, and in that very instant her fight or flight response kicked in as a life-threatening punch crashed into her gut and sent her like a comet into the ground behind her. Her aura depleted instantly and she violently heaved up blood as she heeled over. That lunatic! She didn't think he would do that so quickly. Her arms trembled as well as her knees as she tried to get back up, but she kept stumbling over. Any semblance of rational thought left her as her heart rate shot to its maximum. She was going to die. This was it, this was actually it!
She had made a dumb mistake, just like always! She had expected him to regenerate his aura, continue fighting. She didn't he woul—she just could never learn, could she? Her eyes blurred and cleared, blurred and cleared. She shook it off as best she could. Come on, COME ON! She thought. Get. UP! She tried and tried and tried, but her arms failed her, her legs failed her. Then, BANG! She forced her gaze over to Azure.
Azure's arm was pointed to the sky with a gun in hand. "That's enough!" Her arm dropped to her side. "Our dear governor is the victor!" She turned her gaze over to him, giving him a glare. "Can I trust you to keep your promise?"
Owain bowed politely. "Of course. My power is yours."
"Cinder!" Em shouted. Both her and Merc rushed over to her and hoisted her up.
Cinder coughed a couple times. "I'll...be fine. Just...need..." She coughed again. "To rest." What the hell is his game? Why lend the Branwen Tribe his aid? Her eyes widened. Could he be...The New Dawn was practically defunct now. Alexis had gone missing. Their military might shattered in the battle for Mistral. Was he planning on replacing them with the Branwen Tribe? She looked up to Azure. No one here has the power to stop him, she thought. Even though he's weakened, there's no way they'd be able to stand up to him. Or maybe they would. He's not the monster he was before. They could gang up on him. He had so little soul left. Is that why he was being so nice and accommodating? To get on their good side? This wasn't good. She'll have to have a talk with Raven about this...and about other things. "Let's get ready to leave, you two."
Emerald and Mercury both nodded. "Are you sure we should just let him be?" Merc asked. "Maybe we can reason with Azure a little more. In private?"
"No," Cinder said. "We'll have to take a different approach."
Azure turned to them. "Well, there you have it. The issue has been settled in fair and honorable combat. I appreciate you bringing us the truth, and for that, you may hire us for whatever you wish at a discounted price. I'd say that's fair."
Interesting, Cinder thought. She'd have to put that deal in her back pocket so to speak. That might be useful for later. Hell, she might be able to hire them for a job in a way that sabotaged the man himself. She coughed again and chuckled. "I'll take what I can get. I think I'll take you up on that offer, though I'll have to take a rain check for now. We should get going." Time to see what Raven has to say about all this.
Yang slouched forward on the couch in the living room with her new prosthetic resting over her knee. She dialed Azure's number again from Mom's phone. She didn't pick up the first few times, but hopefully she would now. Wasn't she supposed to stay available or something in case of an emergency? It rang, rang, and rang, but still no answer. She sighed. "What the hell?"
A knock came at the front door. Kali rushed to answer it after a few quick bangs that didn't seem to come from knuckles. She opened the door, revealing Dad with a stack of boxes that looked to topple over if he walked over even the slightest pebble. Kali forced a chuckle. "You can put them anywhere, don't work yourself too hard."
She's still reeling over the news about Blake, isn't she? She thought. Well, she couldn't blame her. She didn't believe Blake to be dead, but she...didn't feel it was right to give her that hope just yet. She wanted a sign—something concrete—to suggest her daughter was still alive before making her feel better.
Dad grunted and set the packages down in an empty space on the corner of the wall to his right. "I'll take you up on that. I'm not getting any younger! Besides, I'll have to throw them away shortly anyways, given what's in them.
Yang raised an eyebrow. "What's in them?"
Dad put his hands on his hips. "Oh, you know, just a few tools to repair things around the mansion that are in need of standard repair. That, and I finally found a smith capable of designing the weapon you wanted."
Yang perked up. "Finally!" She wasn't a swordsmith, and what she wanted was a little different than what Mom had, so they needed to find a specialist, yet apparently those are hard to come by.
"Didn't think Owain would actually follow through on that weird deal you made back in Haven," Dad said as he eyed one particular looking package that seemed to be an elongated silvery briefcase that seemed a little too expensive for their budget. "Man, that was weird."
Yang raised another eyebrow. "Weird? What do you mean?"
Dad looked at her. ""What shampoo do you use?"" Dad said in a parody of Owain. "I mean, really?"
She couldn't help but laugh. "I completely forgot about that!"
Kali seemed weirded out by that. "He asked what shampoo you used?"
She shrugged. Makes much more sense once you know who he is, she thought. "Yeah. It was weird, now that I think about it. See, the deal was that if I won he'd give me Lone Talon."
"And the shampoo?" Kali asked.
"Oh, he just wanted to know which one I used and if I could borrow some, given that he couldn't exactly go into stores to get some."
Kali raised an eyebrow. "Why...didn't he just ask one of his servants to make a trip to the store for him?"
Yang shrugged again. "I 'unno. I though the same thing, but maybe..." Why did he ask about that? She thought. Most of his soul was burnt away at that point, wasn't it? Why would he care about something like that? It's not like she didn't care about her hair, but she figured that in such an extreme case that would be one of the first things she'd lose about herself; her care for her hair. There was a twinge of a belief that Owain did that as an attempt to get closer to her. It...hurt to think about that, given all that he did, but...it also made her happy. That even though his soul was nothing more than a shred, he still had something like that in him. He also promised to cut his hair, which would be weird to see. No way he actually did that, she thought, almost wanting to laugh.
"Anyway..." Dad said. "What are you doing waiting around in the living room?"
"Oh no reason," she said. "Mom and I are gonna make a quick errand. I'll tell you about it when we get back." Aaaand there's another lie. She really wanted to blurt it out and get it over with so she wouldn't have to keep these secrets. She really would have to make it up to them. She hoped they'd understand why she lied about it. That in any other circumstance, she'd be open, but this was a special case.
"Well don't take too long. I also bought quite a bit of food for dinner," Dad said.
Kali walked over to some of the packages and peaked inside them. "In that case, I'll just go ahead and take the groceries over to the kitchen, then."
Yang's scroll rang and she noticed it was Azure's number. She furrowed her brow and went to head outside in private. "Well, I gotta take this."
"Sure, no problem," Dad said as he followed Kali into the kitchen with a few of the leftover groceries.
As she left the mansion and shut the door, she answered her scroll. "Hey, Azure?"
"Yang, did you call?" Azure said with a slight chuckle no doubt in response to her many calls.
"I did. Was just letting you know that my mom and I are gonna head over there to pay a little visit to...a certain someone," she asked.
"You mean your brother? Sure thing. This wouldn't have anything to do with why Cinder was here, would it?" Azure said.
Wait, what? "Cinder? What? She was there?"
Azure snorted. "She was. She came over here to tell us a few things. You didn't tell me your brother was the former governor."
Well, she shouldn't be surprised that Cinder would try and get back at the guy, but still. "Yeah, figured it was best that was kept a secret. He's...not gonna be a problem, I promise."
"And if he becomes one?" She asked.
"Then, I'll deal with him. In fact, that's partly why I'm headed over there. There's a few things I want to talk to him about. Is he alright?"
"He and Cinder duked it out, but yeah, I'd say he's alright. Cinder on the other hand will be looking pretty rough."
Well guess that settles that. "Alright then. We won't be too long, so unless you need to move again, would you mind waiting for us?"
"We don't have any immediate plans to relocate, so sure thing."
"Thanks. See you soon," Yang said as she hung up and pocketed her scroll.
Blake shook the can of spray paint and finished the last touches on the mask. She placed the can beside the yellow and purple cans. The eyes—and a few claw-like marks—were sprayed yellow on the mask while the rest was given a black coating. She had painted the whiskers purple. She let it sit there to dry as she went to look over the white cloak she bought. It was long sleeved, thin, and had a heavy silken feel to it. The hood was big enough to hide everywhere on her head except the face. She also bought a few extra pouches to add to her belt to wrap around the cloak. Without a weapon, she had to fashion a bunch of makeshift kunai laced with dust from some of the metal she scavenged from Atlesian wreckage.
Unfortunately, she couldn't find anyone to provide her with a new weapon, so she'd have to make due with the knives. That only left her training. She grabbed the cloak off its hanger and stuffed it into the backpack she also bought. She stuffed the kunai in their holsters, put the dust in their pouches, and placed them in the bag neatly beside her new cloak.
It was then that she smelled the sudden spike in seasonings and spices coming from the kitchen. Looked like Maris and Pott were almost done cooking. She had splurged a little bit with some of the money she had to afford them a much bigger meal. Hopefully they liked it. While the mask dried, she left the room to join them for dinner.
"Hey!" Maris shouted happily. "Food's almost ready." He took the noodles placed in the bowl beside him into the pot.
Pott sat down at the table practically drooling. She was beaming with excitement as she fidgeted back and forth in her seat.
She chuckled. "Can't wait." She gave a warm, toothless smile to Pott who returned it with her own. She looked down at the plate set before her. It had no food in it yet, but she imagined it had some. And she also imagined Nero sitting across from her, digging in. She imagined him with Mom and Dad as they all ate together. She imagined Nero feeling embarrassed. Those feelings...that fantasy...she wanted to make it a reality. Wait for me, Nero.