Chapter 1: The Blessing
Illia had told Blake that the White Fang were up to something. They always were, even after Adam's death. After their failed attack on Mistral, Adam's extremists continued to cause problems for the city, to prowl the streets and sink their blades into its people. Between her father's bravado and Illia's earnest spirit, however, Blake was starting to see changes. Haven was able to reopen, some members of the White Fang offered to become some of the first students and the relations between faunus and humans were finally seeing some headway. Illia had even become one of the school's professors. Despite her young age, her skills were undeniable, and Blake knew she had a wisdom that transcended her youth. In the war against Salem, victories were hard to come by, so it was good to see one that was so close to home.
Which was why Blake was stunned when Illia showed up at her door in the middle of the night, the dress shirt of her professor's outfit roughed up and wrinkled, the spots on her tanned skin a sickly grey. Illia was never good at putting on a poker face. It was a key reason why she had kept wearing the white and red mask in her White Fang days, even when she had been off-duty. Adam wore his mask out of shame, but Illia? She had been scared. Scared of what she was doing and what she was becoming, left all alone after Blake had made her own way out of the organization. Now, just as she was finding her own way as a professor at Haven, it seemed something had come back to haunt her.
Blake opened her mouth to speak, but Illia pushed past her, walked over to the dining room table, her heels clicking on the polished wooden floors of the team's two-story home, pulled away a chair and slid awkwardly into the seat. She didn't look at Blake. Instead, she looked down at her hand, watched as it tightened into a fist before relaxing, only to tighten again, as if she was squeezing an imaginary stress ball. To say she was on edge was an understatement. It was as if anxiety was rippling off her.
Blake made her own way to the kitchen, filled a glass of water, placed it in front of Illia and slid into her own seat at the table.
"Hey Illia. Are you okay?" Blake asked. "Did something happen at the academy?"
Illia bit lip, kept her fist in a vice, bracing herself for something. Her shoulders began to shake, so she took a few deep breaths. In, then out. Then she spoke, a hardness to her voice.
"Remnants of Adam's White Fang have infiltrated the academy."
The words stung Blake like a sharpened shiv in the stomach. The pain was sudden, but it was the kind of hurt that wasn't entirely unexpected. Rebuilding an academy after a headmaster's betrayal was tricky enough and recruiting former White Fang to serve as hunters had been a risky move done more out of necessity than goodwill. With the city officially hunterless, they needed someone to beat back the Grim. Well, someone other than the gangs, at least. The risk of double agents was present, but part of Blake wished that her doubts had just been paranoia.
As Blake processed the news, Illia continued.
"Turns out some of Adam's followers were just biding their time in Sienna's camp, serving as a sort of reserve in case the assault on Haven failed. Some of them…are my students."
Illia's voice caught as she spoke the last words. Her face spots began to fade slowly into a faint orange before rippling into a mosaic of red, pink and yellow. An angry mixture. At the students. At herself. At the world. All of that, all an instinctive display of emotion.
"Hey," Blake said, placing her hand on Illia's back, the white fabric itching her fingers as she rubbed up and down, trying to work the stress out.
"You know you didn't do anything wrong. You didn't drive them to join Adam's faction. You know how…manipulative…he was. He…he knew how to tell a person exactly what they wanted to hear. It's not your fault."
Red exploded across Illia's face, spread all the way to her ears, down her neck, and around her eyes as they locked onto Blake's. The feline faunus felt the burst of aimless fury before the words left her friend's mouth. What came after the outburst, though, was what gave Blake pause.
"You don't get it, Blake! It's not just that they're with Adam. That'd be bad enough. No, what these students are up to…it's worse. They've found something, Blake. Something dark. Something evil."
Both sets Blake's ears perked up at the word. Evil was the collapse of Beacon. Evil was Salem turning Lionheart against his own hunters, was Cinder killing Pyrrha for the powers of the Fall Maiden. Evil, as much as her scarred heart said otherwise, was not the White Fang.
"What do you mean?"
"I suspected that there were some Adam sympathizers in school for a few weeks now. I didn't want to come forward until I had something more, though. Some sort of proof. Earlier tonight, I noticed something. Some students left their dorms after the eight o'clock curfew. I followed them out as they went into an old storehouse right on the edge of campus. When I went to take a peek, though…"
Her hand went to cover her mouth, another on her stomach, her face dying a muddy shade of green. The muscles in her neck strained as she gave a dry heave. Something twisted had been in that shed. Blake knew it.
"If you need a moment, it's fine," Blake said while Illia grabbed the water from the table and drained it before shaking her head vigorously.
"No, no. It's fine, it's just…"
Blake's cat ears flickered. The noise had been faint, but she knew she had heard the squeak of the wooden steps leading down from the bedrooms upstairs. She held her finger up to Illia and turned in her seat, looking out the kitchen doorway that led into the hall. A few moments later, a certain dragon wandered in an XL T-shirt, rubbing her eye with her one hand.
"Blake," Yang whined, her words coming out as a sleepy mumble. "Come back to bed…"
Upon seeing Illia, one of her drowsy eyes opened a little wider. Blake glanced back at Illia, then returned her eyes to Yang. A late-night visitor normally meant trouble, even if that visitor was a friend. Best to give a little bit of context.
"Illia had a tough day at the academy today, so I'm just keeping her company for a bit. We should be done soon."
By this point, Yang had blinked herself awake enough to give a slight nod. Instead of leaving, however, she made her way to the fridge and opened it up, looking for a snack. Typical late-night Yang. With a chuckle, she turned back to Illia.
"She's probably too sleepy to care. Anyway, what did you see?"
Keeping Yang in the corner of her eye to see make sure she wasn't listening, Illia continued.
"The students. They were reading out of some sort of book. Kahver, one of my students, was leading them. They were reading out of some book and sprinkling Dust into weird patterns on the ground. They were chanting in a language I've never heard, more like a series of growls than words. It was so surreal."
"Sounds like it."
"And Blake…the worst part about it…was that it worked."
"What?"
"I think they were trying to summon something. I'm not sure what it was, but it was about the size of a large child. It was thin, had these long, peachy, scaly arms. Mandibles, too. Claws…it emerged from a portal that spawned from the Dust patterns. Something had gone wrong. It didn't come out right, I think. It came out…twisted. Dead. But it came…it came."
Loud sobbing erupted as Illia broke down. Her head was buried in a hand and the shuddering that started in her shoulders began to spread through her entire body. Blake felt a deep pain within, her heart aching as she saw her friend come apart. It never got easier, seeing someone breakdown right in front of her. Part of her was glad that it didn't. It was proof that she still cared, a part of her that she had made numerous attempts to cut out. Still, if it hurt this much just watching, feeling it had to have been hell.
Blake pulled her close into a hug, one arm around the back of her head, the other around her quaking back. Feeling the weight of Illia against her, she gripped the girl tightly. Illia, the one who had been left behind, the one who had been fighting alone for so long and was only now getting her feet under her, had been betrayed yet again. The world had not been kind to this girl. It had been cruel. It was still cruel. Blake only hoped that here, in her arms, her friend would get at least a moment of peace. Of safety.
The world faded, with only the sounds of sobbing and the warmth of two bodies against each other, of two hearts in resonance.
As Blake emerged from the tender moment, she felt Yang's presence behind her. At first, she felt self-conscious, defensive even. As she turned back to her partner, however, she found a different face. Brows furrowed, eyes hard, lips narrowed. Something was rolling in Yang's head, and Blake had the feeling that it wasn't the image of two girlfriends locked in a hug.
"Yang? Is everything alright?" Blake asked.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Totally," Yang replied, snapping out of her daze.
"I was just thinking about that thing she said. Never heard of a Grim like that. Anyway, is she okay now?"
Blake looked down at Illia, who peeled herself off. Her eyes were red but other than a little sniffling, the outburst seemed to have run its course for now.
"Illia, are you okay? Do you need to spend the night?"
Illia rubbed her eyes before shaking her head and slowly getting up from her chair. Blake thought that Illia was going to say yes, considering they still had so much more to talk about. There were so many questions that needed answers, like what happened after Illia had seen the creature. She knew, though, that Illia was already worn out from sharing as much as she did. And, course, Illia had a long day of teaching weighing on her as well. A good night's rest was what she needed now.
"Alright. Here, let me at least see you out."
With a hand on her back, Blake guided Illia out of the kitchen.
"Thanks, Blake," she said, her voice still hoarse as they arrived at the door. "I'm…I'm just at a loss for what do. I mean, Haven's barely functioning as it is. Something like this could ruin everything we've worked for."
"Well, they aren't still there, right?"
"No. The students left after they summoned the dead thing. They might be there tomorrow, though…"
"Then call out sick and come over here first thing tomorrow morning! We'll work it out!"
The call from down the hall made the two of them jump. Yang was leaning on her arm against the hallway wall from the kitchen, her mouth drawn into a cocky smile.
For someone who prided themselves on facing the forces of evil head-on with shotgun gauntlets, Yang could be surprisingly stealthy. The sheer bravado of her call must have been infectious because Illia then cracked a small smile of her own.
"You know what, Yang? I think I might just do that."
Illia gave a little wave to Yang as Blake opened the door for her. As Illia stepped across the threshold, her smile morphed into a wry grin, her spots turning into a pinkish red.
"Blake, you've got a real keeper," Illia said, "You know that, right?"
Blake gave a sigh and a smile of her own. Illia hadn't been the only one who had gone through the fire for a better life, and she also wasn't the only one who had given Blake a second chance. As she looked back to her love from the doorway, Blake was reminded, for what was the hundredth time that day, how blessed she was to have Yang Xiao Long in her life.
Author Note: Thank you for reading my chapter! This fanfic thing has been pretty fun so far. I've always been interested in Illia as a character and in her relationship with Blake. Hopefully, their interactions felt natural in this scene, especially since it was a pretty intense time for the two of them. Anyway, this was more of an expositionary chapter. I'm still working out the release schedule and direction for this project, so thank you for your patience!