Weiss Schnee
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"All I'm sayin' is that you should consider it. You've got this sort of 'greatest hits' collection you like to fall back on, which is cute in its own way, but you're stuck to the master anyway—Why not learn from him?" Torchwick's tone was jovial as he chastised her.
Weiss leaned back against the thick padding of her chair and furrowed her brow thoughtfully. A deck of cards had been dealt between them, and Torchwick had his hand spread out in front of her, inviting her to pick one.
"The 'master'? Oh please." Weiss rolled her eyes, finally leaning forward and reaching out to the cards he was offering. She picked one at random, pulling it up from his hand and turning it around to see it. The three of clubs… she was still safe. She put it together with the three of hearts in her own hand and tossed them down onto the table that was set up between their chairs.
"I know you're the Ice Queen and all, but surely you're not cold enough to deny that I'm reasonably witty, as wily rogues go." He feigned sadness at her rejection, reaching out to pull a card from her hand.
"I admit, part of me does envy the ease with which you can express yourself." She sighed as she took her next turn. "Perhaps my repertoire of insults is a bit… limited."
Weiss wasn't sure how they'd fallen onto this topic, exactly. They were several hours into their flight to Mistral, by now. Knowing how long the trip would be, she'd originally wanted to try to sleep through it, but her body was less than cooperative with that goal, since she'd just finished napping for several days.
Besides, that wouldn't really be fair to Torchwick, who'd already had to sit around doing nothing while she recovered. So instead they returned to the same cabin they'd sat down in when she first departed the manor on that fateful night. She found a deck of cards under the table, and since Torchwick could use his hands this time around, they settled on passing the time playing card games… though Weiss' sheltered upbringing and lack of a social circle meant that she only knew how to play the ones they taught children.
Being back here reminded her of that night. Her escape felt like it had happened a decade ago, despite only being a few days earlier.
"That's okay! Admitting to a problem is the first step toward correcting it." Torchwick's emerald-green eyes sparkled mischievously as he smiled behind his cards. "Tell you what… the next time you're in a position where you want to insult someone, let me know. I'll walk you through how to do it properly. Think of me as the 'Cyrano' of your passive aggression!"
Weiss couldn't help but chuckle at this. She pictured herself getting frustrated with Ruby, outlandish as that was to imagine, and giving her a verbal teardown as Roman whispered into her ear like a consigliere advising a mob boss.
"I'll think about it."
"I hope so! We'll have to sharpen up that rapier wit of yours if you're going to make your debut as a dust smuggler." They played a few more turns of their game, with Weiss letting out a sigh of relief each time she turned over a card and saw it wasn't the Joker. Roman had been dealt the 'old maid', so she would win if she didn't pull it from his hand.
"Ugh, you never give that a rest, do you?" Weiss exhaled through her nose, absently twirling a finger through her ponytail. Roman flashed a devious smile, the twinkle still strong in his eyes.
"Oh, I take the business very seriously," He crossed his arms and nodded firmly as he spoke. "Lest you forget, not too long ago I stole most of the dust in an entire kingdom. Did half of it with Junior's worthless-ass rental henchmen, too. I deserve a medal just for that."
"Riiiiiight, and tell me, Roman: How did that little scheme of yours end up working out?" Weiss narrowed her gaze, frowning like a disappointed mother. Roman sighed in reply, rolling his shoulders upward.
"Every criminal mastermind is going to hit a few bumps along his road, Snowflake. I couldn't do much about the Witch co-opting my operation, but in my defense, if the White Fang had just performed their part competently, it may have all worked out anyway."
The white fang? Was he talking about that business with the underground train? The thought made Weiss shudder… that battle wasn't one of her fonder memories.
"Is that what makes you a mastermind? Hanging back and letting your lackeys do all the actual work?" It was Weiss' turn to smirk as she needled Roman.
"Yes!" He said, so firmly it made Weiss jump a bit, he extended his index finger upward as if to belabor the point. "That's what a mastermind does: he delegates. A general who throws his life away fighting in the trenches is a bad general. A criminal who gets his own hands dirty when he has a competent second-in-command is a bad criminal. Granted, no one could ever accuse me of being overburdened with competent subordinates."
Weiss shook her head, but her smirk didn't fade. Torchwick really was an unceasing tide of self-assurance, wasn't he? Annoying as it could be, Weiss found herself envious of that part of him, as well. While she tried to project a haughty, confident air, deep down she was a walking bundle of insecurity. Perhaps that was why the two of them resonated so strongly… for better or for worse, talking to him left her feeling like she could conquer the world.
Wait, though. This talk of 'masterminds' and being reminded of their encounter on the train brought something else to her mind… Her meeting with Winter.
As far as Weiss had known, the only time her sister and Roman had ever interacted was when Winter oversaw his arrest following the underground train incident. Weiss didn't figure that they liked each other, obviously, but she assumed their relationship was detached and fleeting enough that they didn't think about each other much, either way.
That assumption was challenged by the way they behaved toward one another during that meeting, though. Her sister didn't just hold Roman Torchwick in the same passive contempt she held all criminals and enemies of Atlas, she despised him. Torchwick, in turn, seemed to share equally intense feelings about her.
Weiss closed her eyes, remembering that sensation of fury that had bombarded her during Winter's warning about trusting Torchwick. She had been listening to her elder sister's words, somewhat resigned to the lecture she knew she had coming after saying he was her friend, when a white-hot rage suddenly fell over her. It didn't belong to her, but it sank into her regardless, and nearly swept her away. Roman had tried to play it off when their eyes met afterward, but it was clear something Winter had said deeply upset him.
"Roman… Do you and Winter know each other? Like, really know each other?" The question escaped Weiss before she'd even fully decided she wanted to ask it. Roman jerked his head back at this, giving her a curious look.
"Where'd that come from?" He asked, not bothering to conceal his confusion.
Ah, right. From his perspective that must have felt like a non-sequitur.
"I just remembered how upset both of you got when I was talking to her yesterday. It made me feel like there was something personal there."
Torchwick was silent for a second, straightening his gaze as he flattened the playing cards in his hand.
"I feel like I definitely mentioned it way back when we partnered up, Ice Queen." He finally said, giving her a charming wink. "Winter Schnee and I are great friends."
Seeing that this wasn't quite enough to satisfy Weiss' curiosity, he sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"Listen, the 'how' of it boggles my mind, but I get that you've got a lot of love for your big sister. I respect that, I do! That said, my life ain't an open book. A gentleman thief needs to have some mystery about him, right?"
That was certainly true. Torchwick loved to talk and was his own favorite subject, but he never discussed his past beyond the most superficial possible topics. That dreamlike moment back in the mine was the only time he'd ever shared anything about himself that wasn't in some way a half truth or a deflection.
It was especially frustrating now, because, while she was genuinely interested in learning more about his past, her curiosity here was more centered around Winter than Roman. Weiss had grown up idolizing her sister, and when Winter escaped from the manor in her own way, it felt like a piece of Weiss had been taken away with her.
That was why that period of Winter's life interested Weiss, and why the promise of a glimpse into it appealed to her. She knew it was immature and silly, but in a weird way it was like part of her was still that abandoned child, wanting to know what was so important to her big sister that she had to leave her behind to get it.
"Oh, come on, Snowflake. Don't make that face." Torchwick groaned and looked away from her. "Telling you 'no' feels like kicking a puppy."
Face? Was she making a face? She had gotten a little lost in thought for a moment, there. Torchwick took a deep breath, looking down at the table between them.
"Tell you what, I can see that this is important to you. I owe you a lot, so let's do this: I propose a change to our game here…" He continued. He fanned out the cards remaining in his hand. "I have four cards left in my hand, see? Three normal cards, and one joker."
He laid each of the four face-down on the table, sliding them apart so they lay in a neat row at the center of the surface.
"I'm… not really a 'title' guy, but let's call this new game, uh… 'I dream of genie'! Here's how it works: You're the human, and one night in your dreams you happen upon me, the genie. You can make any request you wish of me, but if you do you have to flip a card. Flip up any card except the joker, and I'll make your wish come true… For each of the first two wishes, I'll give you another hint about what you want to know. If you manage to get all three, I'll tell you the whole story."
"What if I flip up the joker, though?" Weiss leaned forward; her blue eyes fixed upon the cards he'd laid out.
"Then you wake up." Torchwick responded firmly. "The game ends right then and there. So, what do you say? Maybe you learn what you want, maybe I get to keep all my secrets. Either way, it's nothing personal. We can blame luck. You'll have, like, a 10% chance of getting your answers."
"25%, actually." Weiss corrected, eliciting another warm laugh from her ghostly partner.
"Huh! You know, you always felt like the kind of person who would be good at math!"
Weiss looked up at him. He stared back. His face was the usual mask of confident amusement. Well, if he was offering the chance to learn more, she may as well take it…
"Sounds interesting. Let's play." She said with a nod. His smile transformed into a toothy grin.
"That's the spirit! Fortune favors the bold." He brought his forearm to his knee and leaned downward, jerking his head toward the cards on the table. His tone was chipper, but the good spirit displayed by his voice and body language didn't quite reach his eyes. "Pick a card."
Weiss took a deep breath, suddenly a bit nervous, despite herself. She wasn't really risking anything with this game, but she was competitive by nature… if she was going to play, she wanted to win! Right now, she had a 75% chance of moving forward, though, so after a moment's hesitation she extended one of her small hands out over the table, her fingertips dancing in the air as she debating which card to choose.
She tapped her middle finger against the back of each card in turn, as if hoping she might magically scry what each card was, until she got to the last card in the line, which she gripped and turned around. She tensed as she flipped the card, laying it upright for both to see.
The nine of spades. Torchwick looked away and arched his shoulders, giving a resigned shake of his head.
"Yeah, the Ice Empress and I have met. We've met with prejudice." He finally said, slouching back in his seat and propping his feet up on the corner of the table. "We were colleagues for a hot minute, but most of our interactions have been from opposite sides of the legal playground. She played the Javert to my Valjean, I guess you could say. As you can imagine, we've been prone to a few unhappy differences of opinion."
Colleagues? If Weiss hadn't been in such a stable position she may have doubled over at the thought. Roman and Winter seemed completely incompatible, so it was hard for her to imagine them on the same team.
"Did you go to the academy together? Or maybe you were in the military with her?" She asked. Roman didn't seem like he fit into either option, but where else could he and Winter have worked together?
Torchwick clicked his tongue reproachfully, wagging a finger at her.
"Now, now, Snowflake. Asking two questions with one wish is cheating. If you want the full story there, you'll need to beat way worse odds than three-in-four."
Weiss glared at him, more a gesture of playful frustration than any sort of genuine malice, and when this act elicited nothing but a casual wink in reply she sighed, and reached for the cards once again. Three face-down cards remained. Her odds of victory were still at 66%.
She flipped over the middle card this time, and the smile plastered to Torchwick's face flickered for just an instant as the queen of diamonds revealed herself.
"Seems lady luck is biased against the dead. Shame, that. You'd think we need luck the most!"
"If it's too uncomfortable for you, you don't have to keep going." Weiss offered. Roman was such a guarded guy that she felt a little guilty to be prying. Especially for a motivation as selfish and personal as curiosity about her sister.
"I wouldn't have proposed the game if I weren't willing to follow through. The risk of losing is what makes gambling fun! Now, where were we… ah, right! You wanted to know about me and the Ice Empress working together. Let's see what I'm willing to say about that for a second wish." He scratched the side of his head, closing one eye while the other looked to the side thoughtfully. A few seconds later he suddenly nodded, as if agreeing with himself.
"Your sister, by happenstance, was present during the worst day of my life. I don't hate her for that, really. Not like she personally did anything to me back then. It's more like, we both had to face a harsh truth about the world, and our reactions to it put us on… different career paths.
"She had the opportunity to reject some seriously bad vibes, but instead she became a dog. Well, that's not fair. We were both dogs from the start, she just decided she was more willing to be collared by scumbags than I was. If I'm going to behave like a rabid wolf, I'm doing it for myself."
Before Weiss could start to process anything else, she needed to give voice to her knee-jerk frustration. She crossed her arms tightly, her glare growing fiercer as her gaze pierced into his.
"My sister is not a dog, Roman." She said in an icy tone. Weiss loved dogs, and she loved her sister, but she was less than crazy about any conflation of the two. Roman looked away from her, a wistful glint flickering in his eye for a moment before he reformed the mask of amusement over his face. He returned his gaze to hers and offered a soft chuckle.
"Sorry, sorry. My mouth got away from me, there. No disrespect of your saintly sis was intended. I'm not angry at her, just disappointed! Keep it under your hat, but she'd be one hell of a dust smuggler."
Weiss remained silent, the lines of her forehead deepening as she closed her eyes and pressed her face into her palm. He could be so annoying when he wanted to be, though resisting the urge to giggle was harder than she wanted to admit.
"Roman. You are a dolt. I want you to know that." When she finally spoke again, this was all she could manage.
"You must want me to know that, yeah." He replied coolly. "You bring it up with alarming regularity."
Weiss groaned, but the exchange did finally give her time to parse the full implication of the vague story Torchwick was telling her.
The worst day of his life? Was Winter involved in something bad? Ugh! He had a talent for always answering personal questions in such a way that the answers only left further questions.
A chime suddenly echoed through the cabin, drawing their attention to the intercom in the far corner of the room.
"Just keepin' ya in the loop, Ms. Schnee." The pilot's voice crackled through the worn speaker, underlined by an electronic hiss. "We've entered Mistral airspace. Probably about an hour away from the landing site now, so if you're in a hurry, better start getting your stuff together soon."
Another chime sounded, followed by silence. Weiss turned her attention to the large window beside them, gazing out into the open sky. They may have entered Mistral airspace, but there still wasn't any land to be seen in any direction around then. Nothing but the blue of the sky spreading downward until it became the blue of the sea.
"Mistral." Weiss said thoughtfully, letting her forehead rest against the glass. "We finally made it…"
If Winter's information was to be trusted, Ruby was in Mistral. She hadn't heard anything concrete about Yang or Blake, but she had a funny feeling she was going to find them while she was here, too. It had been a long road to get here, but she was finally going to see them again. All of them.
"Gotta admit, I wasn't sure we'd make it, either. Would have been darkly comical if that nonsense in the mountains held us up until Atlas closed their borders." Roman was sitting in the same position as earlier, glancing out the window as a thoughtful expression spread across his face.
"Have you ever been to Mistral, Roman?" She met his gaze out of the corner of her eye, still resting her head against the cool glass before her. The last time she'd relaxed like this, she suffered a nasty bonk, but what were the odds of that happening again, right?
"Nah, this is a first for me. Hear the food's good. The people seem to be a bit more divisive, but eh. I'm not in a position to do much personal interaction, anyway."
"Ha! I guess this'll be a new experience for both of us, then." Thoughts of her impending reunion had her heart racing, and she felt a strange tightness in her stomach as she hesitantly turned from the window and back toward the cabin. It wasn't as though she didn't still have a long way to go, but she finally felt like she was making real progress toward her goal.
Her eyes returned to the two face-down cards on the table, and she blinked, sorting out her thoughts and feelings.
"You know what? I changed my mind. You don't have to tell me about what happened between you and Winter."
This jerked Torchwick from his thoughts, who raised an eyebrow at her.
"You sure? I mean, I ain't gonna fight you if want to back off, but you seemed pretty curious."
"I am curious. I'm so curious I can't stand it!" Weiss scrunched up her face, giving him a resolute nod. "It sounds like Winter went through something terrible. I hate that she's never told me about it. It's just…"
She paused and took a breath. The fact that Torchwick was willing to share something so personal to himself just to make her feel better did mean a lot to her, but she could tell that she was pushing her way into a memory that was deeply important to him. He was never direct about these kinds of things, but she liked to think she had a pretty good sense for when he was trying to protect himself.
After a moment she smiled, shaking her head.
"…It's fine. I don't want to hear about it like this. I know you'll tell me about it when you want to."
Torchwick looked her over, trying to figure out where her sudden change of heart had come from, but after a while he leaned back, letting his arms drape over the back of his seat as he closed his eyes.
"Well listen to you being considerate, Ice Queen." He was playing cool as always, but the relief in his voice was palpable. "I appreciate it, though. Maybe I'll tell you about that whole mess someday. Maybe you'll get to peep at it the next time you doze off. Either way, I don't mind avoiding the discussion today. We can just cancel the last round of our game."
Cancel the game? Weiss grunted in amusement. She brought her chin to rest against the heel of her hand as she looked up at the much taller man, a condescending smirk spreading across her lips.
"Oh, don't misunderstand me. I have no intention of letting you off the hook that easily, Roman. I still have a wish on the table." Weiss clarified, her smirk growing like a weed. "The rules of the game didn't specify that I had to ask a question, did they?"
"I'm not crazy about where this might be going, but I suppose I did say you could ask for anything… why?" Torchwick narrowed his eyes, but Weiss kept her gaze on his, unblinking.
"I'll flip over one more card. If it's the joker, then the game ends, like we agreed. If it's not, though." She paused, in part for dramatic effect, but also to give herself one final chance to decide whether to follow through with her request. "…If it's not, then for the rest of the time we're stuck together, I want you to call me 'Weiss'."
"Uhm… what?" Torchwick knitted his brow.
"You heard me! No more 'Ice Queen', no more 'Snowflake', nor any other ice-themed nickname you've ever felt tempted to call me. If I win this game, you have to call me 'Weiss'."
Only the hum of the airship's engines could be heard as the pair of them stared each other down, Torchwick tilting his head a bit as he seemed unsure if he'd heard her correctly.
"You sure that's what you want, Snowflake? Seems like a wasted wish to me. You said it yourself the other day: I have a nickname for everyone."
Exactly! Honestly, Weiss didn't know why she felt so insistent on this point, herself. Roman's tendency to nickname people wasn't one she'd thought of much, for most of their time together, but as the weeks went by, she started to develop a theory about it. Namely, that the nicknames were a subtle way of keeping the rest of humanity at arm's length. An indirect means of expressing his contempt for others.
It couldn't be a coincidence that the only person he ever addressed by her proper name was also the only person he cared about, nor that the only times he'd ever called Weiss by her name were in moments that fear and danger forced him to abandon his mask of detachment.
…Granted, that still didn't explain why she was so adamant about changing their arrangement now. Her feelings toward Roman had been a confusing mess ever since her injury in the mine. It wasn't quite true to say she was jealous that her dynamic with Roman wasn't as open and warm as his relationship with Neo, but seeing the two of them together did make her realize that she wanted him to trust her to the same degree she'd grown to trust him. They were friends, right?
"If it seems like a waste, then you should have no problem agreeing, right?" She remained firm, her voice betraying none of her conflict. Torchwick still seemed perplexed by the whole situation, but his gaze warmed up after a moment. He lifted his hands off the top of his seat in a makeshift shrug.
"Normally this is a point I wouldn't budge on, but I wouldn't be much of a genie if I broke my word now. Since it's you, I guess I'm fine with this. If I didn't say that explicitly, you'd start beating yourself up for forcing me into it, right?"
"Ha-ha, I probably would, yeah." Weiss admitted, sheepishly. Torchwick slid his arm free from his chair and flashed his hand across the table, like a showman pulling back a curtain.
"Well, one more card to flip over. Let's see what fate has in store for us."
Weiss stretched, her blue eyes flicking from one facedown card to the other as she took a deep breath and held it. In a way, she had made the stakes of the game quite a bit lower, but it was still something important to her. Eventually, she decided there was no point in overthinking the unknown and reached out for the right-most card. She gave Torchwick a final glance, which she could only hope looked more confident than she felt, then released her breath slowly. She slipped her fingernail beneath the corner of the card and flipped it over.
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Epilogue: Dawn of the Mistral Arc
Dian of the Fabled
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It took the trio a few hours of scouring, but eventually they stumbled upon the correct warehouse. As cities went, Argus was large, and full of a diverse population. This was good news for their group, as they hoped to remain concealed while observing modern humans and faunus behaving normally. Unfortunately, it also made the task of finding one specific building a monumental chore.
Argus was built around its harbor, and adjacent to its docks was an enormous warehouse district, which the various shipping companies used to store their merchandise as it was sorted to be sent elsewhere. Being directed to come here was the first excuse they had ever had to visit this part of town, so for the first few minutes it was surprisingly fun. They'd weaved in and out of the narrow cobblestone streets, watching the various human and faunus workers pushing and pulling enormous boxes from place to place, and checking the number stamped into the front of each warehouse against the one they were told to enter.
Each building proved to be the wrong one, so they would go down the next street and try again. When that failed, they went down still the next street and tried yet again. Then the next street, and the one after that…
Soon, they were so deep in the storage district that there were no more humans. The buildings, which before had been sturdy and well-maintained, were now dilapidated and forgotten. When they finally found the warehouse that matched their number, they realized it was the most decrepit of all of them they'd seen thus far. All of its windows were shattered, so much of its paint was stripped away that they couldn't even guess at what color it was supposed to be, and the ocean air had caused a healthy coat of rust to cling to the huge iron shutter that served as its main entrance.
"This must be a bad joke. The nerve of him to send us to a place like this!" Leanan, Dian's elder sister, spat. At just under five feet tall, she was unusually short by human standards, though proportioned normally otherwise, with dark brown skin and golden eyes. Her curly black hair was bound into a ponytail that ran the length of her back.
When she was a Grimm, she had been a diminutive form of the species humans referred to as a 'Nevermore'. While her human form nearly disguised this fact, she was forced to wear black cotton gloves over her hands to conceal that her fingertips ended in sharp, talon-like points.
"We-well, if a human listened in on or meeting it would b-be bad, right?" Dian said softly, scratching the disheveled blonde hair at the side of his head. He could see that their long trek had frustrated her, so he tried to sound soothing.
While she was his 'elder' sister, in that she was given her soul long before he was, you'd never guess it to see them side. He was pale skinned, meek, and so slender as to seem slightly emaciated by an onlooker, but he also towered over his petite elder. Granted, he was a touch over seven feet tall… so he towered over most people he encountered.
Like his sister, his human form mostly disguised his Grimm origins, though he possessed traits that were just peculiar enough that they could draw suspicion if he wasn't careful. He had to walk with his arms crossed constantly, to hide the fact that his forearms were a quarter-length longer than they should be. Indeed, his arms were so long that, if he were to relax his shoulders and let them hang naturally, he would nearly be able to touch his ankles without bending over.
Leanan huffed at his explanation but nodded her head as she stomped up to the great metal shutter. She slid her gloved fingers into the grooves beneath the barrier and grunted in exertion as she attempted to pull it open. Her tiny body shook from the strain as she flattened her back and put all her strength into the action, only managing to lift the shutter a few inches for her trouble.
"Ugh! This accursed, rust-hewn bother!" She groaned as she gave up, allowing the shutter to slam back to the ground with an audible clang. She stepped aside and jerked her head back to the other two, pointing to the entrance. "Brigid! I delegate this task to you."
"Hmm!" Dian's younger sister grunted her approval, moving from his side and approaching the door enthusiastically. Brigid was perfectly capable of speaking, but hated doing so; she preferred to communicate through grunts and gestures whenever possible.
She wasn't especially tall, either… just a head above Leanan, but her broad, stocky frame made her much more imposing. Her arms, shoulders, and stomach were so rippled with muscles that their contours were visible even within the thick fabric of the white fur coat she always wore, and she put that strength to use here… kneeling down to grip the base of the shutter and throw it open with a single hand.
Back when she was a Grimm, Brigid had belonged to the species humans called 'Boarbatusk', and she lived up to that origin even as a Fable: steady and strong.
"Yes, well, of course it was a simple matter for you. This is your role." Leanne sighed, but she still patted her younger sister on the shoulder as she walked past her and into the darkness of the abandoned warehouse. Brigid brushed the loose strands of her long red hair away from her face before she followed behind her sister, with Dian bringing up the rear, after taking a final look around to make sure no outsiders were watching.
There was nothing inside, save the silhouette of a man standing in the center of a large, empty expanse of concrete floor. He turned toward them as they threw open the door, raising a hand in greeting and walking their way.
"You're late, but I guess it's more my fault than yours. Sorry to bring you to such an out-of-the-way location." He had a deep voice, and spoke in a rehearsed, well-enunciated way. As he drew closer to them, they could see the cut of his white, tailored 3-piece suit, which caught the limited light within the room and gave him an ethereal glow. Between the suit, his slicked-back black hair, and the dark frames of his glasses, it was clear he was trying to look as prim and professional as possible… though the attempt was undercut somewhat his bright green tie, which was emblazoned with multiple yellow smiley faces.
"It's go-good to see you, Finn!" Dian was overjoyed to recognize his elder brother, smiling broadly as he raised a hand in greeting. It wasn't surprising to see him, considering he was the one who arranged this meeting in the first place, but Dian was happy to see him anyway. He preferred when the siblings stuck together… especially considering what had happened to Aibell.
"Finn! If you were inside the whole time, you could have left the accursed door open for us!" Leanan scanned the older-looking man from head to toe, grimacing slightly before adding, "…and why in Remnant are you dressed as a clown?"
The two parties walked until they met near the center of the warehouse. The building had been abandoned for so long that dust had accumulated on the ground like a thin sheet of snow, and the trio could see a trail of dark footprints form along behind them as they walked.
"Clown?" Finn looked down, blinking as he realized what she meant. "Ah! Yes. The suit was a gift from my wife. I… suspect my son may have been the one behind the tie, though."
Dian narrowed his eyes curiously. Finn was the third-born of the Fabled, and the second son. He was blessed with a humanoid form that was fully indistinguishable from normal humans, and this, combined with a Semblance uniquely suited to gathering and sharing information, made him a natural choice as their spy.
However, while he lived among humans more frequently than any of the others, he usually kept away from personal contacts. Dian had never heard of him establishing a family before. Well, he didn't really mind, personally. Finn stayed awake to watch over the rest of them while they spent centuries sleeping, after all. Surely he got lonely in all that time.
"'Wife'? 'Son'? Is this some sort of jest? You're meant to blend with the humans, Finn, not blend with them!" Leanan cared just a little bit more than Dian did about the matter, as her voice seethed with contempt. Finn leaned back at her words, raising his hands defensively.
"It's a recent development. Humans have changed since you began your slumber, their societies are more connected, and reputation is more important than ever. As I grew more important in my place of employment, I had more eyes watching me. Living alone as I had before would have been conspicuous, so 10 years ago, I decided to start a human family. It was all for the sake of my duty to Mother." Finn did his best to sound firm and convincing, though he couldn't help looking away from Leanan's piercing stare.
"How reassuring! So, tell me then, Lord Brother, when were you planning to inform the rest of us of your little charade?" She crossed her arms, putting all her weight on one leg as she tapped her foot. Dian put his hand atop her head, a gesture he no doubt meant to be reassuring, but which only served to redirect a bit of her anger toward him, instead.
This really wasn't a time for them to be fighting each other.
"It was never my intent to deceive you, Leanan. I told you about them immediately, didn't I? While we were connected by my Semblance, I had limited time to share information, and had to prioritize telling you Mother's will."
Leanan's frown grew deeper, and she elevated her gaze to attempt to see the hand resting atop her head. She looked up to Dian, over to Finn, and then sighed.
"Very well, I will accept that, for now." She conceded, the anger in her voice suppressed. Finn gave her a small smile, adjusting his glasses.
"I'm sorry for worrying you so. Fortunately, easier communication is why I've come today! I have gifts for you three." He pulled forward the breast of his jacket, reaching inside and producing three small metallic objects, which he handed to each of his younger siblings.
Dian let the item rest in his palm, eyeing it thoughtfully. It was a small black rectangle, with half of its front covered by a glowing yellow button. Something about it felt familiar, though it took a moment for him to finally process where he'd seen such queer boxes before—humans used these all the time! If he recalled correctly it worked like…
He gripped the rectangle in his fingertips, pressing the button and watching as this activated the device, causing the screen to expand until it was about six inches long, and an introductory chime to start playing.
"Oh, you figured it out, Dian! It's one of those glowing boxes the humans are so fond of!" Leanan's face lit up, and she flashed a grin that showed off her row of sharp, fang-like teeth as she imitated his actions with her own rectangle. "I see these often, though I cannot fathom their purpose."
"They're called 'scrolls', and they have a variety of uses." Finn couldn't resist smiling softly at his sibling's naïve reaction to the technology. He pulled his own 'scroll' out and opened it up as a means of demonstration. "They can track aura levels, take notes, play games…"
As he spoke, Finn demonstrated how the various programs could be accessed. It was a device that responded to touch? Dian imitated his actions, tapping on the battle icon. The front of the device flashed, showing a picture of him with a blue bar beside it labelled 'aura'.
"How con-convenient…" Dian mused, tapping around further. Not only his aura level, but his siblings', as well. This would make it easier to keep everyone safe.
When Finn said the word 'games', Brigid seemed to pay attention to the conversation for the first time since they started, her brown eyes narrowing on the device as she followed his instruction. Before long she was lost in her own world as she tapped at the device, cheery music emanating from the little rectangle.
Finn gave them a moment to tinker with the scrolls before continuing his explanation.
"For our purposes, the important part is that they facilitate communication over long distances. I was only able to arrange to meet with you in person today because business happened to bring me to Mistral. We can't count on such good fortune repeating itself, and my Semblance has limits to how much information I can convey. Using these, we can talk to one another as much as we want, no matter how far apart we are."
Dian felt relief wash over him at the thought. For most of their lives, the seven Fabled had protected their Mother's garden. It was a small, confined space, and because of that none of them ever wandered far from each other. Now, the garden was gone. They woke up in the world of Remnant, vast and dangerous. At least now they could remain close.
"Ah, right, you wandered off to the icy continent, didn't you? Seeking humans who struck your fancy, maybe?" Leanan snickered to herself, but Finn dismissed her with a smile.
"Indeed, I live in Atlas now. I had to fly into Mistral." The elder brother clarified, pausing a moment before slyly adding "…and boy are my arms tired."
Dian blinked. Leanan arched her brow, her mouth hanging open, and Brigid continued to absently tap away at her device.
"Are… are you trying to imply you flew here using your arms?" Leanan had, for once, lost all her usual angry bravado, instead sounding fully confused. "Is that a new ability you've learned while we were asleep? If so, why would you waste energy doing so? Humans have created artificial flight vehicles, have they not?"
Finn flashed a toothy grin, a chuckle escaping his throat.
"I apologize for confusing you. It's expected for human males who produce offspring to develop a fondness for outlandish implications and turns of phrase that have irrational interpretations. I'm led to believe it's known as 'dad humor'."
"If that was meant to b-be humor, then…" Dian hesitated, slipping his unnaturally long fingers through the unkempt mess of his hair. Finn was probably trying his best. Dian didn't want to sound overly judgmental.
"…then I think you've failed, Finn." Leanan lacked Dian's concern for how she was perceived and finished the thought he denied himself.
"Not at all. I'm led to believe the preferred reaction to 'dad humor' is the mild discomfort of the one who hears it. To that end, I daresay I'm nearing mastery of the craft!"
Leanan groaned, closed her eyes, and massaged the center of her forehead with her clawed fingertips.
"Is this what you brought us here for, 'Lord Brother'? To give us these toys and make us mildly uncomfortable?"
Finn threw up his arms again, his smile spreading wider. His apology aside, he clearly enjoyed frustrating her. Dian crossed his arms and looked away, smiling a bit himself. Finn and Leanan were the third and fourth children, born closer together than any of the other seven. For as long as those two had been alive, they'd always treated each other this way. He wished they would be a little more tranquil, but there was no real animosity in their actions… it was just their way of enjoying each other's company.
"The situation has evolved a lot in a short span of time. It's more urgent than ever that we apprehend the Fugitive, and you three are in position to be the next to intercept him. Establishing a way to communicate and annoying Leanan were side-goals, for sure, but I wanted to make sure you knew exactly what was going on, first and foremost."
Finn returned his attention to his scroll, navigating the menus until he came to the image he wanted, then turning the screen toward the trio. The picture on display was of a handsome young man with sharp red hair and bright green eyes.
"The Fugitive goes by 'Roman Torchwick'. It's an alias, but until I encounter him directly, I can't uncover his true name. He was a criminal of some renown, terrorizing the regions of Atlas and Vale for several years before his death during the fall of Beacon Academy."
Dian crossed his arms and frowned, his red eyes glancing up thoughtfully as he strained to connect all those words to their meanings. The three of them had spent the past month studying the humans and faunus around them; doing the best they could to fill the centuries-long gap in their knowledge.
"'Beacon Academy' was Ozpin's organization, was it not?" Leanan was sharing in Dian's quest to recall everything they'd recently learned. Finn raised his hands and clapped softly at this.
"This is why I'm so fond of you, Leanan! Every so often you retain the things you hear. Indeed, Beacon Academy is a front Ozpin uses to gather forces for his endless conflict with Salem, the person our Mother always referred to as 'The Rebel'. That academy plays a large role in what's unfolding before us now, much to our misfortune."
'Salem'… One of the few beings Mother ever feared, and the one from whom the stairway must be protected at all costs. Dian had always been curious to meet her, back before his slumber. Apparently, she could control the Grimm… so perhaps she wasn't so different from the Fabled?
Finn flicked his finger across the image, replacing it with the next picture in the slideshow: A teenage girl with long silver hair.
"This is Torchwick's vessel, Weiss Schnee. She's the daughter of the current head of the Schnee Dust Company and she attended Beacon Academy until its destruction."
"So she's the one we have to kill, then?" Leanan rested her chin on her fist as she leaned in to examine the picture more closely.
"Well, if w-we can convince her to return the F-f-fugitive, we won't have to kill her." Dian corrected firmly, shaking his head. He looked away from Leanan and pursed his lips thoughtfully as he added, "…I-if there's a way to help Mother without anyone dying, then that would be best."
Leanan paused, turning her entire body around and letting her hands fall to her hips as she stared at her younger brother, her eyes narrowed.
"No matter how much time I spend with you, Dian, I'll never cease to be amazed by what a peculiar Grimm you are." She opened her mouth as if to continue speaking to him but stopped as a bolt of realization struck her. Instead, she turned back toward Finn and glared.
"Hold a moment. 'Schnee Dust Company', you say? Is that not your place of employment, as well? Why are you pushing this task to us? You could have resolved the issue with this 'Torchwick' when it first started." Leanan turned back to her elder brother now, shaking her head.
"I'm employed by the SDC, it's true, but I'm a lowly mid-level bureaucrat. I didn't have nearly enough clout to gain access to the Schnee estate, much less get close to one of the heirs without raising suspicion. Although…"
Finn closed his eyes, slipping his glasses off and holding them delicately in one hand, before producing a small cloth from his pocket and cleaning the lenses thoughtfully. He didn't need glasses, as his vision was already better than a human's, but he was convinced they helped him fill the role of the 'average middle-aged man'.
"A few days after Torchwick made Weiss Schnee his vessel, she performed at a charity concert in the capital. Because of my position, I was invited to attend, and I seriously considered finding a way to attack her while she was exposed. I hesitated to commit to the plot, though. I feared exposing myself and revealing us to the world."
"More like you feared losing your comfortable lie! You cared more about your false human family than your kin, and now Aibell is dead." Leanan scoffed, the annoyed frustration from before replaced with a cold, judgmental wrath. Finn hesitated, only able to offer a forlorn smile in his defense.
"Aibell was… a miscalculation. I wholly anticipated that she would ignore Mother's wishes and find some far-flung corner of the world where she could laze about. Since she couldn't blend in with humans, and didn't even have a semblance to defend herself, I was more than happy to indulge her laziness to keep her safe. Then, by sheer terrible coincidence, the Fugitive happened to directly cross her path. It almost felt like divine providence…"
"Let's not fi-fight over what can't be changed…" Dian looked from Finn to Leanan, a thoughtful frown on his face. Finn recognized his younger brother's discomfort and gave a soft nod.
"You're right, Dian. We can assign blame as we please, but there's nothing we can do for our little sister, anymore. Instead, let's learn from our mistakes, and save our Mother's dream from the forces that would destroy it. I'll support you as well as I can, but the mission falls to you three."
Wait, only the three of them? Dian looked around the vast, empty space within the warehouse. Come to think of it, it really was just Finn here, wasn't it?
"W-wh-where are the others?" Dian asked. Finn returned his glasses to his face and pushed them back up the bridge of his nose. He hesitated, but finally answered.
"… The elders have gone to swear loyalty to Salem." He said in a somber tone.
"I-isn't that bad?" Dian said, knitting his brow.
"It's terrible! It's the worst possible outcome for us. However, this is the hand we've been dealt. By contemptible misfortune, the Fugitive attached himself to a member of Ozpin's faction. If either Ozpin or Salem learn of Mother's plan, they'll endeavor to prevent it. Chulainn and Deirdre decided it was better to reveal our existence to Salem willingly, and do what they could to buy you time to complete your task."
"Oh…" Dian tried his best not to show too much of his worry on his face, but Finn sensed it, all the same. The bespectacled Fable walked over to his younger brother and clasped a hand on his shoulder… a gesture made somewhat awkward by the fact that he was more than a foot shorter than Dian.
"It's a contingency we planned for, Dian. Chulainn has a scheme in motion we can use as a last resort, if all else fails. I can't go into detail with you three now, but I will. When the time is right."
Dian hesitantly nodded at this, though the attempt at comfort elicited a disgruntled snort from Leanan.
"As though we wished to know of your plans in the first place, you condescending jackass." She said with the roll of her eyes. Finn adjusted his glasses before sticking his tongue out at her.
"Fair enough, dear. Fair enough. In that case, you all know what to do. Weiss Schnee is on her way to Mistral, intending to reunite with the members of her former huntsman team. Work as a team yourselves, subdue her, and return Torchwick to the Stairway of Purification. Do so before the wrong eyes discover him."
He paused a moment, turning toward Dian and offering him a reassuring smile before clarifying.
"I'll leave the means up to you. Whether you kill her, reason with her, or find some third means of severing their tie, it's all acceptable. No one has escaped the stairway since it was constructed centuries ago, and no one will ever escape again once this matter is resolved. Once the Fugitive is returned, we can live in peace until the day Mother's garden is whole again."
Having handed out his gifts and given his instructions, it was clear Finn's business with the trio had concluded. He gave them a professional smile as he wiped the dust from his suit and began to turn away. Leanan's eyes remained upon him all the while.
"Yes. Her garden. That is our goal, isn't it? The very garden which we will enter, but which most humans will not… including this lovely 'wife' and 'son' of yours. I trust you've not forgotten?"
Finn's smile faded, and a sorrowful shadow filled his gaze as he looked over his shoulder at the elder sister.
"Leanan, have I ever told you that you're my favorite of all the siblings? You always speak your honest feelings, and you never shy away from confronting me with harsh truths." The usual professionalism of his voice was gone, replaced with a wistful, resigned sadness. "Don't worry, though. The debt I owe Mother is one I could never forget. Even if I wanted to."
"It's not as though lying to you would accomplish anything, anyway." Leanan blinked, taken aback by the sudden praise and the change in his bearing. She cut her eyes away from him, scratching her cheek. "I just wanted to make sure you remembered who your family was."
Finn gave her a slow nod, then turned and began to walk away.
"Use the information in those scrolls as you see fit. Don't hesitate to call me if you need me. I may not be able to answer the instant you call, but I'll always get back to you… We're family, after all." As he threw open the shutter, he paused one final time, turning to deliver this reassurance to his siblings. Dian nodded with a smile, Leanan shrugged, and Brigid didn't even look up from her screen to acknowledge him.
Then he was gone. The siblings stood in silence for a minute or two after his departure, absently scrolling through the information he had given them.
"Finn positively stinks of humans, now." Leanan was the first to break the silence, collapsing her scroll and returning it to her pocket.
W-we-well, He's been l-living with them all this time." Dian offered, but his sister gave an angry hiss.
"That's not what I mean. I'm saying that he's changed more than he lets on. He isn't doing all of this because he wants to hide among the humans, he's doing it because he wants to become one of them. We may as well call him 'Finn the Human'."
This caused Dian to pause and stare down at the dusty floor. The notion of one of the siblings betraying the others caused an intense swirl of anxiety and fear to flow through him, and so he reached into the side pocket of his long coat, pulling out his mask and pressing it over his face.
The mask was something unique to him, among his siblings. It was a mass of white, bone-like matter, which fit perfectly to the contours his face, and was adorned with red lines along its cheeks and long horns that extended from the forehead. Though separate from him, it was as much a part of his body as his arms or legs, and he often felt compelled to put it on… especially when he felt emotionally vulnerable.
"I just th-think it's sad." Honestly, Dian agreed with his sister.
Finn called his Semblance 'Insight of the Soul', and it granted him the power to know the true nature of all things he perceived. No disguise could fool his eyes, nor could any lie, however well-planned or convincingly told, fool his ears. His Semblance pierced all deception, and could convey what he learned to others, though the amount he could share was limited depending on the distance between himself and his target. This was a powerful ability, but it came with a drawback: He couldn't turn it off.
Human civilization was built upon lies. Humans lied to others, and they lied to themselves. Some deceptions were big, others small, but they weaved a tapestry that brought comfort to the people who used them, whether they realized it or not. Someone like Finn, who forced anyone he interacted with to face their true selves, quickly became a target of aggression and resentment.
As a result, Finn had always been the most withdrawn and secretive of the seven Fabled. Before the other siblings fell into slumber, he struggled to form meaningful bonds with others, and stuck to the fringes of any group he joined. Now he had a family? A job? Dian had never seen his elder brother so fully integrated into the human world before.
"Oh, I agree wholeheartedly, Dian. A Grimm who thinks he's a person… whatever else he may be, our Lord Brother is certainly an incredibly sad specimen." Leanan closed her eyes and exhaled sharply, serving as the first of their group to turn around and head back to the warehouse entrance. "Well, enough about poor Finn. If we're to embark on this endeavor, we need a chain of command. I shall lead us! If you've any objections, I'll hear them now."
"I'm not a clever soul." Brigid's voice was firm as she spoke for the first time that day, shrugging her shoulders. Even now, she still had her scroll opened, tapping the screen rapidly as the same cheerful music played. "Direct me toward walls you would have smashed down; I'll smash them down."
"It's for the bes-best if you take the lead. Y-you're the elder." Dian conceded the point easily, lifting his abnormally long arms over his head as he bent to crack his back. Leanan looked over the two of them, then grimaced.
"Well aren't you both just so agreeable." She said, drawing her breath in through her nose before letting out a heavy sigh. "Well, as you please. I can feel the Fugitive drawing closer as we speak. Let's go conduct an execution."
"…or a dis-s-scussion!" Dian interjected, raising a long, bony finger. This elicited still another sigh from his elder sister.
"If it will spare me your pouting, we'll attempt to treat with her once. I won't lie and say I hope she listens to reason, though. Aibell was a slovenly, gluttonous bore, but she was still my baby sister."
They were nearly out of the building When Leanan came to an abrupt stop, gasping for air as she collapsed onto her knees. She hugged her sides, her clawed fingertips threatening to dig into her body as her breathing hitched and rasped.
"L-lea! Is it hurting again?" Dian immediately forgot everything else, rushing to the aid of his sister. "I'll use my sem-semblance to-" He began to reach out for her back, but she swatted him away before he could make contact.
After a few seconds of gasping and writhing on the floor, her breathing began to steady, and she shakily returned to her feet.
"I can't remain dependent upon you forever." She said, her voice still a little airy. She grimaced again, flashing her clenched teeth. "Humans, Mother, the Fugitive… it's all so tedious. I care little for distinction, or for Mother's dream. I just want to kill everyone."
"Lea…" Dian lowered his gaze, the frown behind his mask growing deeper.
A Fable was born when a divine being merged a soul with one of the Creatures of Grimm. Under normal circumstances, such a union was impossible, for the Grimm were creatures of pure destructive energy. A soul was, in essence, the distillation of the endless creative potential of life itself. Combining them was like attempting to mix matter with anti-matter.
The Mother of the Fabled was able to overcome this paradox, but not even her divine power could erase the contradiction completely. A Fable's body was unstable down to the cellular level, with the disparate elements of their nature constantly attempting to rend them asunder. Some had it worse than others, but each one of them spent every moment of their lives plagued by an intense, unceasing agony.
Some of Dian's siblings took this reality with grace. They accepted the pain as a price to be paid for the ability to experience the positive emotions they could never have known without a soul. No matter how well adjusted, however, each needed to find their own way to endure. Aibell devoted herself to hedonism and sought to move as little as possible. Brigid hyper-focused on physical activity and endeavored to think as little as possible. Leanan was ever bitter and struggled to control her temper.
If Leanan's theory about Finn's behavior proved true, then his delusional attempt to play human was likely born from that pain, as well.
"…Except for you, Dian. I'll kill everyone else in the world, but I'd lament losing you, so you can remain." As her breathing returned to normal, Leanan's tone began to shift, from barely restrained, pained fury to her usual, more conversational grumpiness. She pushed him back playfully as she resumed their march.
"There are mi-millions of people in the world…" Dian mused, tracing the path of one of his mask's red lines with the tip of a finger. "I must be pretty sp-sp-special if I'm the only e-exception."
This elicited a chuckle from Leanan.
"That's what I like about you, Dian. You take everything I say so seriously, no matter how ridiculous." She looked down at her palm, slowly extending and curling her fingers. "I suppose I can deign to spare Brigid, as well. Our new, empty world will doubtless have plenty of walls that need to be smashed."
The stout sibling grunted her approval without looking up from her screen, and Dian smiled, the turbulent emotions from before finally subsiding enough that he felt comfortable removing his mask. He slowed his pace, watching as his sisters continued ahead of him.
Yes, every member of the Fabled had their individual way of coping with the agony of their own existence. For Dian, it was watching over his siblings. Leanan may have reached the point where she hated everything and gave up on ever finding relief, but Dian couldn't help but hope. Their Mother loved them. Surely, when they helped her rebuild her garden, she would find a way to end their suffering.
Dian pulled out his scroll again, extending the screen and looking through the photos Finn had given them. When he came across the picture of Weiss he stopped, looking over it thoughtfully.
Weiss Schnee. The vessel for the Fugitive. He wondered what kind of person she was.
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Author's Note: I was going to explain why this week's chapter was so late… but I suppose you already noticed the word count. It's probably obvious why this beast took some time to get out. As to *why* the chapter is so long, though, well…
So, remember back when this crazy ride started, and I mentioned that that one-off joke had inspired a story idea that would be novel-length if I wrote it all out? Turns out, I was wrong. See, as of the events of this week's chapter, I'm a bit less than 1/3 of the way through my outline… and I'm 80,000 words deep.
So that joke didn't inspire a needlessly serious, novel-length fanfic from me… it inspired a needlessly serious, multi-novel saga from me. This week's chapter marks the end of the first book, which also gives it the special distinction of being the first time in my entire life I've ever written a novel to completion.
Since the epilogue exclusively features OCs, and doesn't accomplish much outside of setting the stage for book 2, I decided to just go ahead and bundle it with the final chapter, since I'd have felt like I was ripping people off if I featured it as a standalone update… sorry that the extra 6 thousand words did delay the release by a few days, though.
I tend to express gratitude every time I write one of these notes… and that's not gonna change here, because it really does mean a lot to me that so many people have stuck around for the ride. I'm glad I was able to sell you on this crack dynamic that bit into me so hard… it's basically the only reason I'm in the fandom to begin with.
The holidays are upon us, and I'll be flying home next week. Internet in rural Missouri is less than stellar, so there will be a brief hiatus while the Christmas season plays out. This will also give me an opportunity to re-watch volume 5, something I've meant to do since I started writing this but keep procrastinating on. Granted, as the epilogue here not-so-subtly implies… my take on events going forward is going to be just a tiny bit deviant from the established canon… but there will be quite a few events that remain somewhat similar, and I want to make sure I convey them justly.
As always, if enough people want me to keep going, I'll keep going! This story gets gradually more ambitious as more time goes on… and I do still fear I'll eventually reach the threshold where my lack of polish as a writer makes it impossible to continue, but I haven't hit that wall yet! Let me know what you thought of everything so far, and what you'd like to see going forward!
The only thing I'm worried about is the currently airing Volume 8. There's a very real chance Torchwick could come back, which would be wonderful in terms of making me invested in the actual show again but would also single-handedly murder my motivation to write this story.
Anyway, no point in thinking about things beyond my control! This note has already gotten out of hand. Thanks again for all your time and attention, have a wonderful day! I have a less labor-intensive RWBY fic project I'll be using to fill the hiatus period, and we'll get the ball rolling on the second book in the coming months.