Eclipse

Chapter 21

The Raid Part II: Gheists and Ghouls

...

"The King's Services chain of command will be the biggest threat to this operation, because they have insight into your multiple factions and their modus operandi. But unfortunately for them, so do I. I will take measures to keep them occupied. Bureaucracy is a very obnoxious but potent weapon, you know?"

"This is...is he serious?"

Regalia stared in shock at the paperwork before her. The room was solem. Silent. Across from her, Bellicose sat smoking a cigarette and reading through their own copy of the summons. She wished they'd put it out, but they could be stubborn about their vices and Adria was the only one who could legitimately convince them to do anything. Even though Regalia technically outranked them.

They ashed once, a wry look on their sharp, brown face. They almost looked impressed. Regalia fought the urge to crumple up the papers and throw them out the window. Unfortunately, they did not have a window, because they were technically underground.

"He can't be serious. We were in the Kingdom of Vale, not anywhere close to - this is preposterous."

"Welp. Accordin to this, he might actually have a case," grimaced Alwyn, shaking his shaggy head. "Beacon technically still owns the entire park, just leaves it open for the public. See, the Natural Museum of Dust and Hunter History belongs to them too-"

"Nobody living knows this tripe!" exclaimed Rosemary, the youngest and most recent full fledged member of the Service. Her raspberry locks of hair were wild, nealy obscuring her vision. "There isn't even a placard, or a neon sign, nothing to declare it as -what is that stupid phrase, oh- 'an off campus extention of Beacon's grounds'! If this were true, then it should be marked as such-"

"It's true," Bellicose sighed, ashing again. The table quieted briefly, coming to terms with how deeply they had stepped in it. "Ozpin wouldn't make a move like this based on a total falsehood. And Adria checked the old records in the palace. The park still definitely belongs to the school. So do a lot of odd little gifts throughout Vale, in fact."

Regalia felt a flutter of panic rise in her chest, but quelled it forcefully.

"But would he really go to bat for them? In front of the Council?" Alwyn asked incredulously, his voice rough from lack of sleep. "He tryin to play chicken with us, you think? Or might he actually mean it?"

If Ozpin drug Verdant and Regalia before the Council of Vale, on the pretense of beginning an assault on his students on Beacon grounds, then eventually the reason Regalia had felt it necessary to go after team STRQ would be made known. The identity of skinchangers and magic would become compromised, and the Council would be able to use that knowledge to their own benefit. The Service skinchangers would no longer be His Majesty's secret weapons; and the effects this would have on the world at large would be impossible to fully predict.

If the average person learned that there are other means besides just biological reality to gain power, then civilization as we know it could be brought to its knees...

"Neither, Alwyn. I think he's trying to distract us," Bellicose smirked, finally putting their cigarette out. As they pulled their pack out of their suit pocket, Regalia glared at them. They rolled their eyes and stuck a new cancerstick between their lips, mercifully unlit. "By revealing his hand like this, Ozpin is declaring a) I know what my students are and I don't very well care. And b) the King can't have them. However, we know that he is just as invested as we are in keeping the knowledge of magic out of the public eye. He won't take this before the Council."

"How can you be sure though?" Rosemary groaned. "He's a stuffy ole nerd in a tower by day, but a seemingly omniscient busy body by night! Who knows what he's really thinking!?"

Regalia strode towards the wall that they had collectively transformed into their logistics board, amber eyes flitting across the faces there. Her mouth parted in thought, before she closed it.

"Why, he's thinking he has us in check, of course," Regalia declared, her back to the room. "But in his overconfidence, he's left his queen vulnerable."

She turned back to her coworkers, a smile gracing her face. Rosemary and Alwyn exchanged confused glances, while Bellicose smirked and lit their damn cigarette.

"And everyone knows, you never sacrifice your queen for just a few rooks, right?" Regalia returned to the table. "I say we answer his bluff with one of our own. Alwyn, you and Adria get the paperwork together to subpoena Arc through the BTF's channels. We'll see just what Ozpin thinks about that."

Alwyn nodded, pulling up his scroll and messaging Adria in the archive.

"Don't we need some...evidence first?" Rosemary faltered, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly. "Otherwise we'll just look like assholes to everyone-"

Regalia sighed, trying to keep the condescension from her voice.

"Rosemary. We aren't going to actually disgrace the woman publicly. Any conflict that comes of this will remain behind the veil, as always. It would do more harm than good for the public's faith to be shaken in one of their heroes."

"Joan should have stayed in her lane," Bellicose shook their head, smoke rolling from their nostrils. They looked legitimately sad. "Pity."

"Joan should have maintained her damn integrity!" Regalia snapped. Bellicose blinked, raising an eyebrow at her tone. Regalia reigned herself back in. "It's disgraceful. And it's not the job of the Service to police the damn Hunters anyways."

"Speakin which," Alwyn drawled, still typing away rapidly. "Should we request assistance from the Witchfingers?"

Regalia stared at him as if he'd grown a second head out of his rear. Alwyn didn't bother to look up, but addressed her anyways.

"What? Potential corruption case involving a Huntress this high up? Involvin one their own fallen? Sounds like their territory if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you though, Alwyn," Regalia glared.

"Aight. But. I'm still right."

Bellicose actually had the gall to laugh. Regalia shot them a look and they coughed, hiding their smirk behind their tattooed hand.

"...you may have a point, yes," she admitted, glancing back at the wall. "But Dust, do I hate Witchfingers."

"Well, yea, same," Alwyn finally finished typing and set his scroll down. "They're vestigial creeps with no real reason to exist anymore-"

"Oooh, vestigial. Nice one."

"Thanks, Rosemary. But some of em owe us for sure," Alwyn shrugged his large shoulders. "And there'll be plenty wantin revenge on Nwyfre. Just gotta be very selective who we involve."

Regalia tapped her chin in thought, turning back to the board to stare at the beaming wolf faunus girl's headshot.

"Tormund Rindvallis's adopted daughter is on team STRQ. She's their leader, in fact."

Bellicose's pink eyes lit up as they finally kicked their feet off the conference table.

"Do you think he's involved?" Bellicose smiled hungrily. "Because if so, then this will give us a beautiful opportunity to take the son of a bitch down."

Regalia considered the question. The Witchfingers were the natural opposition of the King's Service. They didn't answer to King or Council to the same extent that all the other judicial branches did; they could only be officially summoned, dismissed or brought to task by a "Townhall" or "moot" led by selected district representatives of the citizens, who held no public office outside the moot. It was archaic bullshit that let them get up to all sorts of things.

Originally Witchfingers had arisen to become the avenging angels of the oppressed Sanus population, centuries before, when a Valish King had succumbed to greed and cruelty. But they had hung on to power, even once their usefulness and the need for them had faded. They could be called on to hunt Grimm in desperate times, but mostly focused on renegade Hunters, dirty cops, the lingering slave trade or villains whose Semblances threatened Sanus or all of Remnant. In her mind, these were all things that Hunters could ultimately accomplish on their own, and be less uppity about it to boot. Verdant had once said that Witchfingers were the most dangerous parasites in the world. Regalia agreed.

"Unfortunately, I think not," Regalia declared after a long pause. She moved towards the electric tea kettle and poured some more hot water in her mug. "Tormund has lost several of his own people to Nwyfre's blade in the attempt to subdue her, and Dust knows that lot doesn't forgive anything. I honestly think his daughter is being duped."

Devious crimson eyes taunting her, unrepentant even in the face of defeat-

Regalia shook the unpleasant memory away.

Yes. I could see that one pulling the wool over that poor faunus's eyes and delighting in it.

"So, if he becomes aware of this, do you think we could count on his assistance?" asked Rosemary, eyes bright.

"Potentially. The old bastard isn't a fan of Ozpin either, as far as I know," Bellicose pondered. "He haaates having to send his children to Beacon, too. I imagine finding out that the school and his daughter's team have been compromised by bandits will do nothing to endear Ozpin or Joan to him."

"Update from Brunoz," grunted Alwyn, his obscured brown and blue eyes glued to his scroll once more. "Mm."

Regalia held her hands at rest behind the small of her back, cocking her head towards her colleague.

"Yes?"

"Not good."

"Do share, why don't you?" Bellicose invited.

Alwyn grunted again before projecting his scroll's screen over the conference table; the lights dimmed to accommodate. .

"Brunoz finally made contact with Adria three minutes ago, havin been tailin team STRQ and Joan from Beacon to a destination outside Vale," Alwyn droned. "They're apparently not just on an overnight trainin exercise, or plannin to intercept us as we had hoped; but have officially claimed a huntin billet in the township of Burhhurst-"

"Oh noooo," groaned Rosemary, tugging anxiously at her earrings.

Regalia's jaw tightened.

"-led by Joan Arc, with team STRQ shadowing her. Apparently, get this, on a hunt for Wurdalaks. Estimated time til their return to Vale's bout a week."

"I'm sorry, but….Wurdalaks?!" Rosemary yowled, incredulous. "Wurdalaks aren't even real, are they?!"

"No," snorted Alwyn. "They're mockin us intentionally with this shit."

Delighted and cruel crimson eyes, taunting and taunting.

"And Ozpin's summons will drop on the Council's plush little laps in about three days unless we submit," laughed Bellicose, shaking their head. "We should have seen this coming."

"Um," asked Rosemary. "But the prisoner transfer is in like-"

"Yes," grimaced Alwyn. Bellicose kept chuckling and nodding, sardonically mocking the situation.

"Oh," chirped Rosemary, blinking. "Can we still subpoena Arc at least? Buy ourselves some time?"

"No. Not when she's outside Kingdom territory," Regalia declared, keeping the acid from her tone despite her mounting frustration. She was not one to take her frustrations out on her people if she could help it; that was unbecoming. "Burhhurst is precisely three hundred and fifty kilometers out from Vale, and considered a stand alone township we trade with; not a Settlement extension of Vale. So they are now beyond our jurisdiction and under the laws of Mare Liberum. And no one except the Witchfingers can start an investigation based on corruption charges for a Huntress when they are actively engaged in a hunt, because it would endanger the lives of citizens she's protecting should she be suddenly pulled off it."

"Doin it by the book should be out," Alwyn growled, heterochromatic eyes finally flashing out from beneath the gray mop of hair hanging over his brow. "We should ditch this bait n switch scheme, Lieutenant, and scoop them up in the wilds. Fewer witnesses, plenty of potential causes for a disappearance-"

"Not for a Huntress like Joan," Bellicose drawled, finishing another cigarette. "There will be an immediate investigation to rule out the kind of Grimm threat that could have actually overwhelmed her, and once they determine the area safe in terms of Grimm, they'll start looking much deeper. The right person with a specialty Semblance could ruin us."

"Holy shit, think I don't know all that?" Alwyn snapped.

"No, I don't think you do," Bellicose laughed, earning a growl. "These aren't some drug addled murderers we can just stuff in a sack and make disappear, Al, or some scruffy toddlers. That woman would have half the Hunter community out looking for her. And if Tormund's daughter went missing? All the Witchfingers in the surrounding area would sweep the area a hundred times. That's a bit problematic, don't you think?"

"That shit's gonna happen anyways," Alwyn looked away, meeting Regalia's stare. Accusing.

Bellicose raised their palms and tipped their head, kicking their feet back up on the conference table. Their expression was clearly 'You said it, not me'.

They are losing faith in my ability to pull this off. I need to remind them why we're doing this.

"Not in an environment under our dominion it won't," Regalia insisted, confidence bleeding into her voice. "We can control more factors here, where we have the resources and backing we need. And we're only taking the skinchangers. As far as we know, the other two are innocent of any crime save bad luck."

I've already run background checks on them, after all. Clean, upstanding records, despite the boy's unfortunate choice in a tattoo. Meanwhile, Raven and Qrow do not exist at all. Imagine that.

"I know this is putting ourselves out there in terms of risk, but please ask yourselves: would it not be worth it? To be the ones to finally bring the Branwen to heel?" Regalia asked.

There was some hesitation around the table. Rosemary and Bellicose seemed to be weighing the idea, while Alwyn remained stubborn.

"Nwyfre Donovan represents everything rotten in the heart of the world. She betrayed her Kingdom, her license, everything she ever stood for, even if she was just a damn Witchfinger," Regalia insisted, pacing along the length of the table, her boots silent. "When these vermin murder our people on our highways. When they steal food from our citizens mouths. When they burn our buildings down - who do you think inspires their black little hearts the most? The one who we all know was actually responsible for Mountain Glenn, of course."

Rosemary opened her mouth, met Regalia's eyes and then tactfully shut it.

"We know. You know. Everyone knows, deep down. We aren't safe from the Branwen just because they're on the other side of the world! They aren't just Anima's problem. They're our problem too, because that bitch has long claws," Regalia placed her foot on the chair next to her, resting her forearms on her thigh. "And she's not going to rest until she makes every gentle thing within her reach bleed."

"I mean. Her agents were there," Bellicose hemmed, their eyes glancing to the side in consideration. "With the girl's Semblance connecting them directly…"

Alwyn's face darkened considerably, while Rosemary fidgeted more and more.

"Exactly. Everywhere that girl goes, Nwyfre Donovan has direct access to. Really take a moment to think about that," Regalia lifted her palms.

Silence.

"Imagine when she becomes a licensed Huntress, with access to some of the highest government buildings, the very hearts of vulnerable towns - hell! She could waltz her devilish little way into the middle of the Vale uncontested and unleash a barbarian horde without warning. Or worse: a pack of Grimm."

A collection of winces met her words.

"We cannot afford to hold back and let these people slip through our grasp," Regalia insisted, her voice urgent. "Because it will cost us Valish lives in the future, I guarantee it. And that? That is not acceptable to me."

Alwyn and Bellicose were nodding in agreement. Meanwhile, Rosemary hesitated.

"But I thought….," Rosemary trailed off momentarily, before gaining some courage. "I thought Verdant wanted to recruit the twins? He thinks we can rehabilitate them. Are you planning on killing them, Reggie?"

Rehabilitate? Oh Verdant, we'd have a better chance of turning those MacMillan louts into something useful…

"Only if I must," Regalia said solemnly. "If we can convince them to denounce their leader and atone for their crimes by entering the service, then they'd be very useful. The brother especially. But so long as Nwyfre lives? That girl will be a liability. And she isn't going to turn easily, you didn't confront her like I did, Rosemary."

"...I mean, I kinda did," Rosemary muttered as she glanced away, her golden complexion darkening in embarrassment.

Before Regalia could comment on that little slip up, a chime echoed in the conference room, and the four of them glanced up expectantly. Adria's hologram appeared a moment later; Bellicose's face broke out in a sly smirk.

"Hey Addy."

"Hey Bell, put those fucking cigarettes away, yea?" Adria said as a part of the pair's ritual greeting.

"Sure, sure."

Regalia shot Bellicose an irritated look when they actually complied, stuffing the cigarettes in their suit pocket.

"So! Good news, or bad news first?" Adria asked the room.

"Good news!" Rosemary pleaded. "Pleaaase."

"Ha, there isn't any! Sorry new kid!"

Bellicose immediately started laughing, as Alwyn groaned.

"Addy please," sniffled Rosemary.

"Aww, I'm sorry sugarrrr. But no, it's all bad. See, for yourselves."

A video shot from somebody's scroll popped up, along with several Mistrali news websites that were rapidly updating, describing the situation playing out before them. Regalia felt her blood run cold. Then, she got angry.

The room had fallen silent again, as they watched the assault on Chiang Mai. Grimm in the streets, entire portions of their barricade ablaze, bandits whooping into businesses, robbing, killing. An entire district was dissolving into chaos. And stalking about the streets, bold as she well pleased, was unmistakably Nwyfre Donovan, adorned in helmet, swords, feathers and all.

"Those fuckin ghouls," growled Alwyn at last. Regalia was glad that she was not the only one taking this very personally.

"Yea, she's not only NOT coming to our quinceaneras," Addy interrupted the feed. "She is blatantly cheating on us, right this second, with that slut Chiang Mai. And you know? She's not even that pretty."

Bellicose bit their hand to keep from laughing, looking away as Alwyn sighed long sufferingly.

"Adria, could you briefly pretend to have, just, a microdosage of social consciousness?" Regalia grit out.

"Haha, sorry, Reggie," Adria beamed like the little gremlin she was. "Anyways, if miss Morrigan has gotten wind of the bait we left out for her, then she's completely not interested - and wow, look at that? That is gross. Wow."

Rosemary looked green about the gills, and glanced purposefully away.

"Maybe she even prompted Joan and STRQ to take to the hills, while Ozpin held down the fort?" Bellicose hummed. "Or perhaps we really did overestimate her concern for her agents?"

"Maybe! Probably figured out what we were planning, and this is her big middle finger to us, I guess. You know, my feelings are almost hurt?"

"Aww. Shall I kiss it better?" hummed Bellicose.

"Stop it," scolded Alwyn.

The pair ceased, eyes round and innocent for only a moment. Adria mouthed 'maybe later' at Bellicose, before looking Regalia's way. Her irreverent smile became slightly awkward, likely due to the very apparent anger on Regalia's face.

"I need to brief Verdant and his Majesty," Regalia said, her voice dangerously collected as she lifted a finger to point at the violence on screen. "But that right there? That's what we are preventing from happening in our very own streets. Do you all understand?"

Nervous and grave nods from around the room. Even Adria refrained from a smartassed salute, as Regalia left the conference room, a firestorm brewing behind her eyes.

...


"Because of the paramount need for discretion, you will not be able to openly use your Semblances. At least not where people or cameras can see you. Even with my assistance, you will be forced to rely on other, nondescript weaponry and only in extremity. Fortunately, Tormund has plenty available to him. None of it will likely be registered."


...

"-and this is my kakute collection, I want all of you to take several. These little babies inject a special paralyzing agent that isn't even hampered by aura-"

"Dad."

"-I actually designed it myself, but don't worry! Completely untraceable, and these aren't company issue for Witchfingers, so they won't recognize the bite marks! OH. And here, yes, Nwyfre you'll really like this one, I've been wanting to use this!"

"Dad."

"Dust infused camouflage foils! Very cool, yea? See how they bend the light when you engage your aura? Hahaha! No one will see you coming, not that they usually do-

"DAD."

" - Yes, my little avenger!?"

Tormund spun, his massive beard unable to conceal the near boyish enthusiasm at sharing his toys. Summer's face was torn between bemusement and fond exasperation. Raven fought the powerful urge to laugh.

They were all laden with far too many murder sticks and gagetry to know what to do with, let alone move stealthily or break into an underground bunker. Even Professor Arc looked a bit strained under the mountain, and was casting forlorn eyes towards her simple sword and shield. Nwyfre had accepted everything Tormund handed her, but set it purposefully on the table behind her in an organized sequence.

"Ah. Perhaps that is too much."

"Only a little," Summer smiled. It looked strained, and the sentiment didn't reach her eyes. Raven wasn't sure if it was the ridiculous amount of gear that was causing that look on her face, or the stress of organizing a raid with the combined assistance of Tormund, Nwyfre and Joan. Either way, ever since Burhhurst, Summer had radiated an unusual amount of tension, and the rest of her team kept picking up on it.

Taiyang raised a hand after a moment. Tormund turned towards him.

"I have a solution."

"I like solutions," Tormund grinned, feral. "What is it?"

Taiyang pointed down to his cargo pockets, having forgone the fannypack for this adventure. Qrow started to laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Observe," Taiyang stuck his entire arm into his pants pocket, waved around, and pulled out a fishing rod, a basket full of puppy toys, and a life size, cardboard cutout of a local Valish celebrity named Lommy Tiseau. "And that's not all! I could honestly fit a whole tank in this bad boy."

"Is that a tank in your pants? Or are you just happy to commit a felony with me?" Raven asked slyly, glancing his way.

"Oooh, how risque, Rae! But sorry, for more info, you'll have to ask your mo-"

Qrow slapped a life saving palm over his partner's mouth, eyes wide in horror. Summer laughed nervously, exchanging spooked looks with Raven; Taiyang, meanwhile, realized how perilously close he'd come to making his last mom joke and had gone rather pale despite his hearty farmer's tan. None of them dared look Nwyfre's way. Summer coughed awkwardly.

"So uh, yea! Let's um, divvy up these bois, huh?!" Tai finally clapped his hands, blue eyes wide. "Pocket dimensions for everyone! You get a pocket dimension, you get a pocket dimension-"

Nwyfre remained stoically silent in the corner, going through the deadly accouterments she'd laid out before her with business like focus. Tormund meanwhile continued to look completely nonplussed, even as Taiyang distributed pocket dimensions.

It was several minutes before they were interrupted by Tormund's scroll going off. The ringtone made Raven pause from organizing her own accouterments next to Summer, and the girls shared another incredulous look.

"Psst, is that a boyband cover?" Taiyang whispered conspiratorially. Tormund waved at him to be silent.

"Speak," Tormund's voice dropped into a mountainous growl.

Summer looked up at her, and mimicked her father's 'serious' face; Raven bit her lip to keep from snickering, which of course only encouraged Summer to keep making faces at her. To be honest, Raven was just glad that her partner was acting less stressed than she had a few minutes previously.

I wish she'd just tell me what's wrong, instead of burying it. But now probably isn't the time to ask.

Raven smeared her palm playfully over her girlfriend's face and pulled away, watching Tormund. Nwyfre had focused on the conversation immediately, pausing in her organization to move closer to the much larger Witchfinger. Watching the two reunite and interact had been bizarre to say the least.

STRQ and Joan had come through the portal from Burhhurst into Tormund's safehouse. The scene had not been what Raven had been expecting, and she was still not sure what to make of it. The two had been sitting at a kitchen table, drinking coffee and catching up on the latest innovations for Dust applicators in the weapons industry. Tormund had even waved cheerfully at them when they came in. It had seemed a little too casual.

After a moment, Nwyfre moved away from Tormund and his conversation, gesturing to her. Raven nodded, focusing on her connection to Ciara; the bond responded, a bubble of impish joy rising in her chest, and a vortex sprang across the undecorated wall.

The pair of them strode through to meet Ciara in the wasteland; the silence between them had grown awkward again. Ever since Raven had threatened to kick Nwyfre off the raid, her mother had kept her more venomous commentary to herself; or had at least focused on the details of the plan instead.

Nwyfre was staring at the odd structure in the distance that sometimes appeared in the wasteland, when the opposing portal rippled; and out popped "the Morrigan". Raven smirked as Ciara laughed, trotting across the sand to the pair of them; she smelled like smoke, blood and Grimm, and made a menacing Morrigan with the extra feathers and streaks of bodypaint covering what armor could not.

"There's my girls!" Ciara whooped, wrapping her arms around them both and pulling them into a crushing hug. "What's with those dreary faces?! I thought you two'd be having so much fun!"

Nwyfre and Raven exchanged uncomfortable glances, and cleared their throats at the same time. Ciara pulled back a little, blue eyes peering out through the slits; it was truly bizarre to see her wearing the helm.

"Gah, have you two been fighting again? Do I need to separate ya?" Ciara squinted at them, retaining most of her playfulness. There was some steel under tha tone, however.

"No."

"Maybe."

Raven's eyes widened in surprise at that comment.

"How are things on your end?" Nwyfre asked quickly.

"Fantastiiiic~" Ciara shook both their shoulders gently. "You should let me play dress up more often!"

Nwyfre's brow quirked.

"Oh?"

"Not like that, ya boob," Ciara scoffed. Raven grimaced, forcing the unwelcome imagery away. "Anyways! Got your man what he wanted! And we've got a fresh batch of recruits - not much Dust, unfortunately, but I did nab a really nice prize for you love, here-"

Ciara shoved her arm back through the portal, and came back with a Hard Light Dust rifle; Raven stared in shock as the item was shoved in her hands. A weapon like this cost an obscene amount of lien.

"-you can use that for your raid! And here is Van's get."

She pulled several black cases through. Raven was not entirely sure what was in there, but she had a few theories. She glanced back down at the Hunter weapon resting in her palms.

"Ah. Cici?"

"Yes love!"

"This rifle might be too distinct to use," Raven started, her voice apologetic. "It's likely registered in the Hunter's weapons database, and could be linked to someone in Chiang Mai, connecting the events."

Ciara paused, her shoulders drooping somewhat.

"Aww?"

Raven shuffled, looking at the rifle. It was magnificent.

"I'm sorry. Perhaps you guys should sell or trade it for something good for the tribe? Or just keep it?"

"Yeaa, guess we could sell it. Keepin it would get pricey," Ciara sighed, patting her shoulder. "Ah well."

"Hmm. Maybe we could get a tank?" Nwyfre suggested dryly, tapping her chin. Raven glared at her, spotting the twitch of a smile there.

"Goddess, the fuck would we do with a bloody tank?" Ciara laughed. "Could you honestly imagine tryin to upkeep the bastard?"

Nwyfre started to chuckle as Raven rolled her eyes.

"Alright, gotta go, I love you Cici," she hugged her other mother quickly. Ciara promptly squished her back.

"I love you too, don't die-

Raven coughed as her ribs compressed.

"I won't."

"-and hug your brother for me."

"I will. You guys be careful."

Ciara had mercy on her lungs and finally released Raven with a wink and wave as she left through the adjacent portal. It was weird hearing her voice echoing in the helm.

"Now, where's the fun in that eh? Love ya both!"

Silence again. Raven helped Nwyfre carry the heavy cases across the rust colored sand.

"Who taught you about the weapons register for Hunters? They don't usually mention that so early in training."

Raven rolled her eyes, but didn't look askance, focusing on the goal before them.

"You did."

Nwyfre paused briefly, her face surprisingly hesitant.

"I did? When?"

What, does she expect me to believe she's going senile? Honestly.

"Tch, years ago now."

Nwyfre actually smiled a little.

"Huh. And you actually listened?"

"Mom, seriously? Like you don't remember?" Raven sighed in exasperation. "You've made your point-"

"I don't! I really don't remember that!" Nwyfre insisted with a laugh and shook her head. "You're young, you have a better memory than I do. And that was a good catch on your part with the rifle."

"You would have caught it," Raven grumbled.

Nwyfre shrugged, tossing her dreads over her shoulder as she carried the heavy cases through the vortex.

"Maybe. But you still caught it first."