Chapter Eight: A Maiden's Call

A Room in Mistral

Washing her armour had taken some time.

Pyrrha was no novice at the task, of course. But for all its spectacle, fighting in the duelling ring hadn't presented the same issues, not when both fighters possessed Aura and would stop once it dropped below a certain point. As for fighting the Grimm, they conveniently evaporated upon death. Lengthy combat would leave armour dirty and soiled, but her previous combat activities had been comparatively bloodless. In a quite literal fashion.

She worried for a moment about the stains that wouldn't wash off. The ones that couldn't be seen. But only for a moment. She was already stained by Penny's death in any case. And this was far from innocent blood. Beacon, Penny, Jaune, so many others. They owed a great debt, and if she didn't make them pay, then who would? This was justice. This was necessary.

Pyrrha turned her attention to the two large holdall bags resting on her bed, her 'haul' from her raid on the warehouse. It was only fitting to turn the White Fang's own resources upon them. She unzipped the first bag, now she had time to properly evaluate what she'd collected. She'd grabbed hold of whatever looked useful and could carry, but time had been pressing; more White Fang might have appeared, or the local police may have arrived to investigate the sound of gunfire. Perhaps the former would be a minor obstacle, but the latter was a complication she utterly needed to avoid.

She began emptying the contents, sorting them into various piles. Pyrrha hadn't taken any guns or blades: she had her own. But explosives were another matter. Grenades, flashbangs, and an assortment of other material she'd taken like flares. She was no expert in the use of such things, nor an outright enthusiast like Nora, but she was a diligent and gifted student of the art of combat. As a tournament champion, she'd had to learn to fight against whatever her opponents could throw at her (and there'd been some 'interesting' choices). As a trainee huntress, she'd studied the tactical application of a variety of weapons; even if she didn't use them, teammates did. She needed to know what they could do, in case she'd ever had to issue orders to someone like Nora in the field.

Not that Nora listened to many people, she thought with a pang of fondness. She listened to Ren, of course. Professor Port, oddly enough. And Jaune. He'd earned her fierce loyalty so quickly he'd never realised he'd done anything special, that it was one of the things Pyrrha saw in him…

Pyrrha took a breath and bit back a tear. She missed them all. She'd hope to see Ren and Nora again, but there was little room in her heart for hope right now. But perhaps they were well, and perhaps they'd forgive her for leaving them. This was a path she couldn't ask anyone else to risk.

She pushed herself back to the matter of weapons. Pyrrha had always preferred more traditional weapons, but even Miló had a ranged mode and she was a more than capable shot. Now that Pyrrha was pushing her semblance to greater heights – not to mention using outright magic – it was even harder to claim any pure adherence to the classical arts. Moreover, her present course demanded pragmatism. She knew, now better than ever, that she wasn't invincible. She'd seen the price of that. She couldn't afford to lose, ever again.

A stand-up fight could be exhilarating, but it carried unnecessary risks. If Pyrrha was to accomplish all that she desired, to do what needed to be done, then she had to be prepared to do whatever was necessary to tip the odds in her favour before a fight even started. She'd already adapted to disarming her opponents as quickly as possible. Traps, ambush tactics, these were all viable strategies too. Few seemed to respond quickly enough with their Aura when caught by surprise. But this required anticipating the opponent's moves.

The warehouse Pyrrha had just left was key. When Adam came – and she was sure he would – he'd investigate that warehouse. She'd have to keep it under observation but could hardly do so constantly. She wasn't well acquainted with electronic surveillance, and besides, Mistral was no Atlas. So she had to narrow down the time frame in which he'd be expected…

Night-time. The White Fang preferred to operate at night. The White Fang's operations in Vale – those under Adam's personal leadership – had been no different. He'd come at night, while others slept and when they could take advantage of Faunus' superior night vision. Pyrrha had to negate that somehow if she was to take them on at that time. She pondered the matter, as she looked thoughtfully at the arsenal before her.

That Adam was not in Mistral and had to be contacted indirectly also suggested he wouldn't show up immediately. Pyrrha had a little time yet, especially for operations during the day. Perhaps there was a way to draw him in all the quicker and put him further off balance. A further way to hurt the White Fang. She'd dealt so far with elements that had come straight from Vale, but there were local branches too. She'd learned as much from the bar owner's and the Lieutenant's scrolls. They may not have been involved with Beacon, but they could well be drawn into Cinder's plans for Haven. But she needed to find them.

Pyrrha turned and gazed over at the other bag, the one whose contents she'd gathered on a half-formed whim. The local White Fang had a spot of local trouble, didn't they? The whim solidified into an idea. It wasn't one she liked, there was something distasteful about it. But if it helped her remove more terrorists from Remnant then it'd do some good, no mattered who she had to cross paths with. And if it brought her closer to finding and removing the threat of Fall herself?

It was necessary.

-000-

Higanbana

"Well this is less than ideal."

"I'm sorry Qrow. I really hoped we'd be able to offer you some immediate help."

Qrow waved Rudd off, to reassure him that he didn't hold him responsible. "It's not your fault."

"But still disappointing, right? I know you were keen to get to Mistral as quickly as possible."

After defeating the creature that stalked them, the remainder of the journey to Higanbana had been much smoother, eased by the sky-high morale of the villagers in the wake of their victory. Qrow had dared to hope that from Higanbana they could simply catch the airship straight to Mistral. After enduring the cheers of the people of Shion – now reunited with their children and loved ones – and the considerably more reserved greeting of Higanbana's representatives, he'd made his way with Rudd and Kobe to check on the vessel. Only to discover it undergoing considerable repairs, courtesy of the damage it endured at the hands of the Spring Maiden.

He should have known his luck would hold.

"We're fortunate she managed to struggle to Higanbana at all," claimed the pilot, taking a break from working alongside his small crew. "After that freak storm we were limping the whole way, roughest trip I've ever had."

"You could have joined us for a walk," Qrow growled.

"Whoah now," the pilot held his palms up. "Let's not go crazy: I heard what you all went through. I'm glad I missed it. Much as I'm glad you were there to help out."

"And we're really like to help Qrow and his team out for all they've done for us," said Rudd, steering the conversation back around. "They need to get to Mistral. And we'd like to send some people there too."

Qrow glanced at Kobe and raised an eyebrow.

"We need to report the attack on Shion, and Higanbana will want to send someone too," Kobe said softly, answering the silent question.

"To ask for help with refugees?"

"Right," Kobe confirmed. "They'll help us out, but they're hardly overjoyed at an entire village descending on them. In fairness, resources are going to be very stretched round here, even with us all pitching in to help out."

While Qrow and Kobe spoke quietly, Rudd and the pilot had continued to discuss the condition of the airship.

"She will fly again, Rudd. I can do what you're asking me to do. But we need at least another week to finish patching her up."

"Another week?!" exclaimed Qrow.

Rudd and the pilot turned to Qrow in surprise.

"It can't be done any faster, not with the tools we have. I'm really sorry," said the pilot.

Qrow felt a little sheepish. "Sorry, the kids have a friend we believe is in Mistral, and we think she's in danger."

Rudd's eyes softened at that. "You people really are heroes, you know? Sorry we can't do much more for you. But the airship will still be faster than walking if you're prepared to wait."

"Next settlements along are Oniyuri and Kuroyuri," said Kobe. The latter sounded familiar to Qrow's ears, but Kobe continued. "Both of them are destroyed by Grimm, so you won't find anything to speed your way there."

"Thanks," Qrow replied. "I'll have to talk it over with the kids. I'll let you know."

Rudd took his hand and gave it a parting shake. "No problem, Qrow, just give us the word. And thank you."

Qrow thanked them and made his way to the inn they were staying at. Rooms were at a premium, but the people of Shion had insisted they have one of them, although that's been before he learned their stay might be extended. He entered the inn, to see Ruby and Nora huddled together in the common room, chatting.

"Pipsqueak, Valkyrie," he nodded towards them.

"Any word on the airship, Uncle Qrow?" asked Ruby.

"Bad news, kids: it needs at least another week of repairs. We can either wait for it to be fixed or set out by foot."

"What gets us there quicker?" asked Nora.

"The airship. But it means sitting around here doing nothing."

"I'm sure we can find ways to help out here," said Ruby. "And if the airship gets us there quicker then it's a no-brainer."

"And we've done enough walking!" Nora agreed.

"All true," Qrow said. "I just didn't know how you'd feel about sticking around here when Nikos could be in trouble."

"We feel like picking whichever option is quickest," Nora said with a roll of her eyes. "We're not idiots. Besides, Pyrrha's tough. She'll be there when we get there, you'll see. She gave you a good fight."

"I could've taken her," Qrow scoffed. "But I'll take your word for it." He paused and looked around for the fourth member of their party. "Where's Ren?"

"On the wall," Nora said, a touch more softly. "He said he needed some time to think."

"I'll go talk to him, run this past him," Qrow nodded. "Stay out of trouble while I'm gone," he said with a wink.

"Will do, old man," said Ruby. "Try not to meet Yang's mom again."

Qrow shot her a look but she simply replied with a smile. He chuckled and left the pair to their conversation.

Unlike Shion, Higanbana was well defended by substantial walls, a detail Qrow found reassuring in light of having to shepherd Shion's civilians through the wilderness. Yet it made the task of tracking down Ren a little challenging than he expected. He'd expected he might find Ren by the western gate, looking back the way they came, but was a little surprised to eventually find him looking out over the eastern walls.

"Ren?" Qrow called out.

The boy nodded, although he didn't turn his gaze.

"We're going to have to wait if we want to take the airship. It's still quicker than walking though, so I and the others think we should."

"That seems best," Ren replied flatly, continuing to look out over the wall.

Qrow remembered where he'd heard of Kuroyuri before.

"Your home village is that way, isn't it?" he asked.

"It was." Ren replied. "Not far past Oniyuri. Both met fate at the same hands."

"Hands we stopped."

Ren's expression eased, and for the first time he turned towards Qrow. "We did, didn't we?"

"Did you want to go there?" Qrow asked, nodding at the horizon. "Even if we go by airship, we might be able to drop by."

"No," Ren shook his head. "There's not much there now for me or Nora. We've dealt with the unfinished business. There's little there now but memories."

"I hear those matter."

A faint smile crossed Ren's face. "The important ones are already here," he said, tapping his head.

They stayed in comfortable silence for a while, gazing over the walls, Qrow caught for a moment in his own memories. He looked back over at Ren. The kid seemed in a better place; his burdens eased by his victory over the monster that destroyed his childhood. Could confronting the demons of the past help him? Could it help Nikos? He winced at that thought: He didn't want her anywhere near Fall. Not if he could help it.

"Come on, kid, the others are waiting for you," he eventually said, and he and Ren turned from the walls. Just as he turned away, however, he felt one last sensation and looked back. The view was unchanged, he couldn't see anything. And yet, just for a moment, he felt like they were being watched.

He filed the thought for later as they made their ways off the wall. Whatever it was shouldn't be able to stop them now, but he'd stay wary. He always did.

-000-

A White Fang Hideout, Anima

"I'm not in the habit of repeating myself Adam," a proud and regal voice said, "so I tell you this once: I will not authorise any further operations until we have had an… opportunity to discuss recent events in Beacon. In person."

Adam Taurus, and a few select members of the White Fang, watched the video screen before them. On the screen was a beautiful but severe-looking Faunus woman, with a dark complexion, black hair, the ears of a tiger and piercing amber eyes. Sienna Khan, High Leader of the White Fang, glared at them through the screen.

"Then there is the matter of these associates of yours, a group of humans of whom we know little. Another item for urgent discussion. You have requested a meeting: you have it, as quickly as you can get here. Send word via the courier who brought you this message and do not be late."

The recording terminated.

"It seems," Adam spoke, "that the High Leader lacks the vision to see what is possible."

"She will never agree with an attack on Haven, that much seems certain," said Rajah, a bear Faunus who had much sway in the Mistrali White Fang.

"Adam, if she will not lead us in this, we'll follow you," growled Gray Tiber, a wolf Faunus from Vale.

"I can't do this alone," Adam replied. "I'll need the full resources of the White Fang, especially the Mistral branch, behind me."

The third present spoke up. "Adam, you have the loyalty of those who followed you from Vale. Many in Mistral respect and admire you. Fennec and Corsac Albain have likewise told me to assure you that the Menagerie branch is likewise in your favour. Should the upcoming meeting offer an opportunity for some leadership changes… with the right story the Fang will follow you."

"Thank you, Yuma," Adam nodded towards the bat Faunus. "The support of the Albain brothers means much to me. As does the support of you all. It is a pity the timidity of our current High Leader is holding the revolution back. But if she should become some… unfortunate martyr to our cause, then we must strike the next blow at our Human oppressors and teach them their true place in the order of things."

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter," Adam called.

The door opened, to reveal a White Fang soldier in uniform. "A message for you, Adam, brought in by another courier."

Adam held out his hand, wondering who the message was from. He doubted Sienna would send another messenger so soon after the first. Word from Menagerie? Had Blake turned up there as rumoured? He took the offered Scroll and began reading through the displayed message while the others began quietly conversing.

Adam threw the Scroll onto the table with a curse.

All eyes turned on Adam.

"What is it, Adam?" asked Gray.

"Word from Perry," he gritted out. "Read it."

Gray took the Scroll, while Rajah and Yuma leaned over his shoulder. They read the message in silence.

"What…? How is this… who did this?!" Rajah demanded, her claws protracting from her fingers.

"A lone female and capable combatant, 'probably' human," Adam whispered to himself, his back to them. He turned around. "Everything we know is there. Perhaps Perry will find out more by the time we get there."

"There?" asked Gray.

"Yes, there! We needed those soldiers; they were loyal and proven. And whoever did this may not stop there, seriously compromising our plans against Haven. So, we're going to prepare, going to the city of Mistral, and then we'll track this individual down and dispose of them. Hopefully before we have our little meeting with the High Leader."

"Did you want me…?" Yuma began asking.

"I'll need your services a little longer," Adam replied. "Your talents will be of use. I'll send a message to Fennec and Corsac some other way. We can look at removing the Belladonnas once I am installed as High Leader. This," he gestured to the Scroll, "is more urgent."

"Understood," Yuma nodded.

Adam stalked from the room, confident his subordinates would know what to prepare. He would need to pack himself, fuelled by a determination to find this supposed interloper.

A lone female, a capable combatant, though I never quite expected this of you. Then again, I supposed I may have left you with some additional motivation. And only 'probably human'? Who do I know who has passed for human, who meets that description, who would go out of their way to seek and fight the Fang?

He chuckled darkly to himself. Oh Blake, if only I knew how keen you were to meet again. I'll see you soon, my love.

-000-

Evernight Castle, The Land of Darkness

The last remains of the Beowolves evaporated.

Cinder paused to take several deep breaths. She'd been remorseless in training, anxious to be allowed to leave the castle and resume her date with destiny. She pushed herself hard so that she might take that which was hers.

But she'd had enough killing Grimm for a few minutes. She nodded at Emerald, who raised several fingers to a brow and concentrated.

Emerald's semblance was a useful tool. The ability to create illusions had been a powerful aid in their plot to undermine Beacon. Turning it into a training instrument was perhaps a petty use of such power, but it provided a more interesting break from Grimm at least. And loyal Emerald was so eager to serve.

She wondered what illusion it'd be this time. She'd had Emerald produce illusions of the Silver-Eyed girl that maimed her, of others, even that boy. She hated him. He was safely dead, had been no challenge, and yet he had denied her what was rightfully hers. It enraged her. Ozpin had been a serious threat, one that she'd only defeated by bringing his own vault down on top of him. But it was that boy that caused her to fail, simply by getting in her way, out of some simpering attachment to the ersatz Maiden!

Ah, but this was her favourite target. She grinned as the ersatz Maiden herself appeared before her. She was as she appeared that night, huddled over, weak. How Ozpin thought such a feeble vessel was worthy of the power of a Maiden was beyond her. This fragile reed that now all that stood between her and the first step of Cinder's rightful destiny. All Cinder would have to do is reach out and pluck it. Once she'd been found. And once Cinder was allowed to leave this place.

She supposed it was possible Pyrrha Nikos would put up more of a fight when they met again. She had been a tournament champion, after all. But while she might appear strong in some sporting contest, outside of that safe and false environment she was nothing. She'd seen the champion's true face that night. It wouldn't take much to put her back on her knees. Pyrrha should thank her: Cinder would send her to rejoin her boy swiftly, and she'd be spared the responsibility of a power she was simply inadequate for. Only Cinder had the will, the strength, and the imagination to make proper use of that power. The power that belonged to her.

Looking at the illusion before her, broken and sobbing, Cinder wondered how to do it this time. Any method of killing her should do the trick: she felt within herself that the remaining power of the Fall Maiden, once freed from its current poor host, would seek to reunite with the half already within her. And yet she knew in this training that Salem wanted her to learn how to make full use of her other arm. There would be other Maidens, after all.

She understood the logic. But she didn't like thinking about her other arm.

"You do feel it, don't you?" Cinder turned; as if summoned by her thoughts Salem herself was there, gazing over her. "I told you before, Cinder, don't fight it. It senses your fear. Make it dread you."

Cinder turned back to the illusion before her. With an effort of will she stretched her left arm forward. Her new arm, her Grimm arm stretched impossibly forwards, plunging its talons into the ersatz Maiden. Cinder smiled, imagining doing the same to the real thing. The illusion screamed and then vanished, and Cinder brought her arm back. It retracted back to its proper length, concealed within her long sleeve.

"Congratulations, Cinder. You have made progress in your recovery. But you are not ready yet. Still, Tyrian has some interesting news about the silver-eyed girl and her friends. Would you like to hear it?"

Cinder nodded.

"Then ask for it."

Cinder gestured and Emerald came running over.

"No." Salem glared at Emerald, who stopped and shrank before her. "Not you. Cinder must ask with her own voice." She turned back towards Cinder. "If you are truly the woman you told me you were, if you truly want power, if you did not lie to me, then ask for it. Show me how badly you want it."

Cinder opened her mouth, but at first nothing but rasps came forth. She felt frustration welling up within her. Was she to be held back, refused her destiny because of some damaged and unused vocal cords? She coughed. NO! She would not be denied. She would be strong, she would be powerful, her destiny – her fate – would be fulfilled!

In a hoarse voice she spoke. "Yes… I want to hear it!" she spat out.

Salem smiled. "Well done, Cinder. I'm glad to see that you're still worthy of a place among us. Tyrian reports that he's tracked the silver-eyed girl and some of her friends to a village called Higanbana, in the kingdom of Mistral. I've directed him to follow them and capture the girl, to bring her here."

Why not just kill the brat? Cinder fumed, although she restrained herself in the presence of her mistress. Another question burned in her mind.

She made another rasping noise, before her words took form. "And what… of the … fal… false maiden?" she asked roughly.

"She's not with them," Salem replied. "We still have no news of her. Rest assured, dear Cinder, when we find her, I will let you know. And when you're ready, you will have ample opportunity to make up for past mistakes and obtain what we both want." Salem turned. "I shall leave you to your training," she said as she began silently walking towards the doorway.

Cinder turned back to Emerald, nodding once more. Her course may have been delayed, but it could not be stopped. Not by foolish boys nor by little girls, and certainly not by any pretenders. She was the Fall Maiden. It was her destiny.

-000-

A Restaurant in Lower Mistral

"That's far enough!" Miss Malachite – Lil' Miss Malachite as she was known – gestured for the intruder to stop. Two bodyguards stepped up, blocking the girl's way to her table.

The girl raised her hands, appearing to be unarmed. "I'm here for business," the girl said.

Lil' Miss Malachite gazed at her for a moment, then gestured to the bench opposite. The girl took it. Her clothes didn't stand out, but were clearly new and of good quality. Her short hair was jet-black, possibly dyed. Combined with the sunglasses, she was clearly trying to hide her identity. Some young, rich kid, wanting to dabble beyond the law, perhaps. She was carrying a large holdall, which she dropped on the bench beside her.

"Are you Miss Malachite?" she asked in quite a gentle, rich voice. Despite the gentleness, however, she asked without hesitation or any sign of fear.

"Most people call me Lil' Miss. What do you want?"

"I hear you've been having problems with the White Fang."

Lil' Miss snapped her hand fan shut. "I don't get involved in politics," she snapped.

"No, but they do seem to get involved in… whatever it is you do," the girl replied.

True enough. Like any illegal organization, the White Fang needed money and funds, and often had to acquire it in less than legal ways. Here in Mistral, some of their local cells had begun to compete with the underworld. It had begun to damage business, damage Lil' Miss did not appreciate.

Still… "And what's that to you?" she asked.

"I don't care for what you do," the girl replied. "But I care about the White Fang more. I want information on them: for instance, the locations of known safehouses and hideouts."

"And what do I get out of this?"

"I remove them."

Lil' Miss laughed, a sound that came out more as a cackle.

"You've got guts, sweetheart, I'll tell you that. But why do you care so much?"

"My reasons are my own," the girl said tersely.

"Now see, that isn't quite good enough. We've had issues with the Fang, I won't deny it. It hurts business. But they're containable ones. That might change if they knew I was sendin' people after them. People like young rich kids with a death wish, who are just goin' to get themselves killed and lead the Fang back to me, understand?"

"May I?" the girl gestured to the bag.

"It's not simply a matter of money," said Lil' Miss.

"This isn't money," replied the girl. "It's my résumé." She placed the bag between them.

Lil' Miss began unzipping the bag, only to stop. The bag was full of White Fang masks, some broken and shattered… and some smeared with blood. She zipped the bag closed again.

She looked upon the girl with fresh eyes and took a breath. "Okay, you can deliver. Where do you want to start?"

Author's Note:

Thank you once again for comments and reviews. Particular thanks to Big Bad Beowulf: sadly as a guest reviewer I can't respond by PM, but your comments are appreciated, particularly your comment about wondering what Jaune was doing and then remembering he was dead. A funny experience when writing this (particularly when covering what would have been RNJR), is looking at the original journey and noticing all the little things that would have been different without him!