I'm happy to announce that Burned now has official cover art by my friend MRK50. She always delivers quality stuff. Follow her on Twitter and if you want to support her.
Cover art - MRK50
Pyrrha groaned loud enough for all the trees to hear. "Remind me why we're out here again?"
"I promised you answers," Raven's voice came from deep within the trees. "Now you're going to get them."
Were the answers in the trees? Was this supposed to be a spiritual thing, like becoming one with nature? Or, knowing Raven, she wrote everything she knew on a piece of paper, stuck it on a tree, and expected Pyrrha to find it.
If it was a game of hide-and-seek they were playing, Raven was a master at it. Pyrrha took her eyes off her for one second when they entered the woods, and now she couldn't see her at all. Her voice made it sound like she was close, but there was nothing to see but trees. Her only company was a black bird flying overhead.
That was fine. She didn't really want to talk to Raven anyway. She was still bitter about what she said the other night. She wasn't a simple yes-girl who did what anyone told her to do. It was her destiny to become the Fall Maiden, just like it was to become a huntress. But then what did Raven know about responsibility, the woman who abandoned her own child? She would never understand.
The bird perched itself on a branch close to her. It was a curious creature. It didn't cock its head or fly away after a few seconds. It held her gaze patiently almost like it was staring at her. It even edged itself closer to her on the branch. Pyrrha looked away from it and it started to caw loudly, impatiently. It stopped when she gave it her attention again.
"What?" Pyrrha grunted. She wasn't in the mood for this. "Are you a fan too? Want me to sign your nest or something?"
The bird didn't answer, obviously, but Pyrrha was still surprised that it didn't. Despite looking like an ordinary bird, there was something strange about it. What type of bird was it anyway? A crow or something? She wasn't a bird expert. Did crows behave like this?
Why were its eyes red?
The bird cawed fiercely and flew around her head, startling Pyrrha. She waved her hands. "Go away, shoo!" she snapped. It nipped and tucked at her hair, pulling her ponytail back with its talons. "I said go away!" Pyrrha shouted. Was this some kind of baby Nevermore? Pyrrha went blind as she tried swatting it, but it evaded her swipes every time, causing her to stumble and fall on bum.
Pyrrha glared at the bird. It didn't try to attack her this time. It hovered in the air a few feet away from her. Pyrrha growled and grabbed a rock. She wasn't one for killing animals, but this was no ordinary bird. She tested the rock in her hand and felt the air shift around her. She felt a shimmering sensation, like vibrations running through her body. A strange but familiar feeling. She felt it back at Beacon in the presence of Cinder's powers...
She gasped and the rock fell out from her fingers.
A black veil suddenly surrounded the bird like a dark mist. The bird's silhouette twisted inside the veil, growing and transforming into the shape of a grown woman. Pyrrha's eyes couldn't believe it when Raven Branwen dropped from the sky, landing before her with a smile on her face. The bird was gone. It hadn't flown off, it hadn't just vanished.
Raven was the bird.
"Ta-da," Raven said. "Impressive, isn't it? I can also juggle if you want to throw more rocks my way."
"What… what was that?" Pyrrha gawped. She tried to sound smarter, but it was hard to speak with your jaw hanging open.
"That was something not many people get to see. Count yourself lucky. Not many witnesses live to share the secret." Raven held her hand out. "Get up. You look silly sitting down like that."
Pyrrha held out her own wobbly hand and steadied herself in Raven's firmer grip. Her legs wobbled like jelly when she stood up. Raven's pat on the back nearly knocked her down again.
"Look at you," Raven laughed. "You look like you're about to faint."
"I'm not going to faint," Pyrrha growled.
"Are you sure? Your hair's got more colour to it than you do."
"I said, I'm fine! I just wasn't expecting that." The gears in Pyrrha's head slowly began turning again. "Your name's Raven… and you can turn into a raven?" she asked
Raven sighed. "Yes, and before you ask, my brother Qrow can turn into a crow too. To be clear, we were given our names long before we could do that." She sounded slightly embarrassed by it.
"That's a very unusual semblance you have," Pyrrha said. She had heard of semblances giving people animalistic qualities, but that was too literal to be normal.
"Actually, my semblance is quite normal," Raven said. "But turning into a bird isn't my semblance."
"Then what are you? Some kind of mutant faunus?"
Raven raised an eyebrow. "Mutant faunus? That's a little racist, don't you think? What would the fans say?"
"That's not what I meant. How can you do that if it's not your semblance?" Pyrrha needed an answer.
"Would you believe me if I said it was magic?"
Pyrrha didn't need that kind of answer.
Raven smiled. "Why the scepticism? You've already seen magic before. You saw Cinder become the Fall Maiden. I bet she did lots of strange things."
"Yeah, well… she didn't turn into a bird."
"Well, that confirms it then. My powers are cooler."
Pyrrha wanted to sit down, take a breath, and check that the last thing she drank wasn't spiked with anything. "Did your parents…"
Raven frowned. "What?"
"Did your parents, I mean… did one of them wear the feathers in the relationship?"
"What do you-" Raven's confusion quickly twisted into revulsion. "What? No! Gods, that's more unbelievable than magic! What's wrong with you?"
"Leave me alone, I'm new to this!"
"Look," Raven said, lowering her voice. "I understand that this is surprising, but I need you to expand your suspension of disbelief. You'll need to when you hear what else I have to tell you."
Pyrrha sighed. "Okay, fine. It's magic. Great. How did you get to be like this then? Were you born this way?"
"No, my brother and I were born normal humans just like you. The power was bestowed onto us by Ozpin."
Pyrrha froze. "Ozpin?"
"Yes. You aren't the only one to be chosen by him." Her voice grew colder, like the setting sun slowly inviting in the chill of night. "It wasn't a gift. He gave us the power so that we could be his eyes and ears. His little birds that would listen and recall information back to him, so that he could always be one step ahead of everyone else."
She smiled grimly. "He never considered the possibility of this power being used against him. It's disturbing what people say when they think they're alone."
"What are you talking about?" Pyrrha said. "Ozpin never had that kind of power. He was just a headmaster."
"I think it's fair to say you don't know a thing about him." She began to walk back in the direction of the camp. "Come. We'll finish this back in my tent. We have a lot to cover."
"What's wrong with out here?"
"There's tea in my tent, and I think we could both use some."
"Tea or birdseed?"
Raven looked back at her. "I'll allow that, only because I know what's coming next. You won't be in a joking mood after that."
[/]
Pyrrha closed her eyes and drank slowly from the cup. The tea was delicious. Drinking it almost felt like being back in civilization. She could imagine Ren serving this to her, insisting it was full of herbs with bizarre names that he always recommended her to try. He would argue back and forth with Nora, promising her that the radioactively green liquid was actually good. As for Jaune, he would gulp it down without hesitation, happy to try out whatever his team enjoyed.
It was a pity Raven was in the tent with her, ruining her fantasy of the past. The bandit leader looked disconnected from the world, lost in her own drink. Her eyes remained closed, her body sagged peacefully. She didn't look like a fierce, bloodthirsty savage anymore. She looked like a woman who had all the weight of the world suddenly taken off her shoulders. Pyrrha had a feeling she could walk out right now, and it would be hours before she noticed she was gone.
I have my happy memories, Raven, Pyrrha thought. What are yours?
Raven went for another sip, only to frown when she realised the cup was empty. Her eyes cracked open, the red in her pupils looking more tired than fiery. "Never lasts," she grumbled. "Always ends too quickly."
"Just pour yourself another one," Pyrrha said.
"Can't repeat. Can't go back," she murmured to herself. Raven put the cup down and sat up straight. Back in business mode. "You remind me of myself, you know."
"I hope not," Pyrrha huffed.
"When I was a teenager. I had an... interesting upbringing. I did a lot of bad things. I wanted a fresh start, a chance to do some real good in the world. Fight with purpose. That's how I came to be a part of Ozpin's inner circle. It felt nice, feeling like you were on the right side for once. I won't lie, I looked up to him for a very long time."
"And now you're out here," Pyrrha said. "What happened?"
"What happened?" Raven hummed. "He disappointed me. Have you ever been betrayed? To have someone you admired completely shatter your trust in them? To feel alone and confused as you start to question everything and everyone?"
An image of Ren and Nora slithered into her head like a poisonous spillage, and Pyrrha despised herself for thinking of that so quickly.
"No. Guess it's a good thing I didn't have many friends growing up," she said, evading that topic as quickly as she could. "You said Ozpin was the one who gave you that power. How is that possible?"
"I'll tell you. But first, tell me everything you know about Ozpin."
"I asked you something first."
"My tent. My rules."
"That's just petty."
"Yes."
Most frustrating woman in the world.
"What do you want me to do, recite his entire autobiography?" Pyrrha sighed. "I respected Ozpin, but not that much."
"I'm not asking for a history lesson. Just tell me what you know," Raven said.
"I know about the same as everyone else. He was a prodigy, the youngest person ever to become headmaster of a hunter academy. He completed missions many would call suicide. He even had a hand with the creation of things like the CCT towers. He was a great man."
A great man with many secrets. But despite that, his death was a tragedy. The world was a lesser place without him.
"There, that's all I know," Pyrrha said. "Are you gonna tell me I'm wrong?"
"Not at all," Raven said. "That was Ozpin in a nutshell." Her grip on her cup tightened. "Well, if we're talking about this one anyway."
Pyrrha frowned. "'This one'?" she echoed.
"Oh yes. We also have King Ozpin of Vale that ended the Great War. There's also Ozpin the mad scientist who made a floating city. Ozpin the blacksmith, Ozpin the philosopher, Ozpin the healer. And who could forget Ozpin the withered old drunkard living in his own filth?" She chuckled. "That one's my favourite."
Raven's mad rambling was getting on Pyrrha's nerves. Did she enjoy talking in nothing but riddles? It didn't make her sound smart, it was just annoying for everyone else who had to listen to her.
"What are you talking about?" Pyrrha said. "There's only one Ozpin. He died at Beacon."
"Oh, I'm sure he did," Raven said. "But he'll be back. He's probably out there already ruining someone else's life. I wonder what he'll look like this time? Any ideas?"
"Ozpin is dead!" Pyrrha snapped. "Stop talking about it like it's a joke!"
"Joke," Raven said. "Yes, this is all a joke. His goals, his plans, his entire life up until now." She stood up. "Wait here. I need to show you something." She went over to one of the chests and pulled something out of it. She came back and placed it before Pyrrha.
It was a thick hardback book. Titleless and ancient-looking. The pages within were brown and wrinkled with age. It had that wafty smell to it that staled the air immediately.
"What's this?" Pyrrha said.
"Happy memories," Raven said. "Not mine though."
Again with the riddles. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Open and you'll see."
Raven wanted her to read the entire book? Something this big would take her weeks to finish. Months even. Then again, it's not like there was anything else interesting to do in this camp, and punching Shay in the face would probably get old soon. Pyrrha cautiously opened the book, dreading the thousands of words that would greet her. With a book this old, she half-expected a bat to fly out.
But to her relief, there were no words inside. Only photos. She flipped through the pages. The book was filled with hundreds of photos of men, each looking completely different from the other. Some of the photos were clear and coloured, others were faded and grainy as if taken from a very old camera. Pyrrha didn't see the point of this. Flicking through it, she didn't recognise any of these men. What was Raven's point here?
She flipped through several more pages, then paused when she saw a photo of Ozpin on one of the pages. He stood proudly in front of Beacon Academy, cane in hand, surrounded by his staff. Her heart stung for a moment when she remembered his sacrifice. But she didn't understand what this was all about. Who were these men and why was Ozpin included with them?
"What does this have to do with anything?" Pyrrha said.
"Look closer," Raven said. "Notice anything familiar?"
This was getting on her nerves. One more riddle and she was leaving the tent. Pyrrha flipped back through the book, scanning her eyes over the photos one last time. This was impossible. There were too many photos in here to analyse. What else did they have in common, other than they all featured men? None of the men even looked alike. She was ready to give up.
Then she saw something that sent chills running through her.
The cane.
She hadn't noticed it before she saw Ozpin's photo. It was such a small detail, she had skipped it before. But now she saw it everywhere. All the men in the photos were holding the same cane Ozpin carried with him. She even flipped back to the photo of Ozpin to compare. It was the exact same one. Even the little gears near the handle were the same.
How was this possible? Was this a scrapbook of Ozpin's family tree? If it was, why did none of these men look like him? Wouldn't there be at least some family resemblance? How did they all have the same cane?
Pyrrha looked up from the book. "I don't understand," she murmured.
"Yes you do," Raven said. "You see what's going on here, you just don't want to believe it."
They weren't family. There was no other explanation as to why they had the same cane. Unless…
"That's impossible," Pyrrha whispered.
"Oh I assure you, it isn't."
"It can't be. Some of these photos are ancient. These men don't even look like him. They can't be…"
"And yet they are," Raven said. "He's all of them. Everyone you see in these photos is Ozpin. He's had quite a busy life, don't you think?"
"But…"
Pyrrha realised she was playing Raven's game. She shoved the book away from her. "This is a trick," she growled.
"I collected thousands of photos of different men to trick a girl I only met recently? This might be hard to believe, but I do have a life."
"I don't know what this is, but I know they aren't Ozpin."
Raven looked amused. "Have you seen that cane owned by anyone else but him?"
"It's a cane. So what? It doesn't prove anything. How is he supposed to be all these different people?"
"The same way I'm able to turn into a bird. The same way the Maidens exist in the first place. Magic."
Pyrrha trembled. The word 'magic' lost its splendour coming from Raven's mouth. It didn't sound wondrous like the way other people used it. Raven made it sound like a sinister thing. It lost its magic, so to say.
"Most people who know about magic's existence don't truly understand it," Raven explained. "Magic is not like semblances where each one is inherently unique to the user. My powers may look different compared to the Maidens, but it's actually all one and the same. It all comes from the original source."
"Original source?"
"Yes. The one who created the power in the first place. I can use magic, but I'm not magical. I can't freely give you my power to turn into a bird. It's not mine to give. Magic is like a chain, you see. It wraps itself around the soul of the wielder until they die and their soul is finally released. Until then, they are bound by it. That doesn't sound so bad, until you realise how many people would be willing to gut you for a chance of obtaining that power."
Pyrrha remembered Amber in the vault, her final gasp as Cinder's arrow pierced her heart. How long had she been hunted by her? How many restless nights did she have, wondering if the next time she closed her eyes would be her last? All the power in the world didn't matter if you never felt safe with it.
"It's the same thing with the Maidens," Raven said. "Despite their grandeur, they are still prisoners of their magic too. They are enslaved by the will of the source, even if they don't realise it. Their only freedom is deciding who next inherits the power when they die. They have just enough influence to give it a nudge in the right direction, but it's still an independent entity."
"And you're saying this source is Ozpin? He created the Maidens?" Pyrrha asked. Raven nodded and she felt dizzy. "That's crazy!"
"Is it? You saw the Fall Maiden down in Beacon's little dungeon. How do you think Ozpin knew who she was, and how to transfer her power to you?"
"You're making him sound like some kind of wizard. He was just a headmaster."
"In this life, yes. But let's go back to the beginning."
She turned to the first page of the book. Inside was a picture of a handsome young man, brown hair and clad in impressive green armour. He looked like a knight from fantasy stories, on his way to slay a dragon or something. It was the oldest picture in the book. The colours were fading, but the image still captured his noble presence. A familiar cane rested in his hand.
"This is the first Ozpin," Raven said. "The original. He is the forefather of magic. When he died, his soul found its way into a new body and his consciousness took over. This process has been repeated all the way up to the Ozpin you know as Beacon's headmaster. He is thousands of years old."
"Thousands," Pyrrha breathed.
"Ozpin isn't a man, he's a thing," Raven growled. "A creature of magic and the architect of Remnant's suffering. His immortality is the result of him leeching off someone else's life, and then taking it over with his own personality. When he moves in, the original person dies. The man you knew as Ozpin had a life of his own once. Perhaps a family too. Then he wormed his way in like the ethereal parasite that he is and ruined it. Whoever that man was with the silver hair and the nice suit, he died long before the attack on Beacon."
Ozpin. The headmaster everyone in Beacon admired. A fake? That body used to belong to someone else? Pyrrha thought about all the conversations she had with him. Was that just a spirit using a dead man's body as a mouthpiece?
"But why?" Pyrrha said. "Why would he do that?"
"Because there's another player to this story. If you thought that was hard to swallow, then you're gonna love this."
Raven walked over to the large sheet Pyrrha noticed when she first woke up in the tent. She pulled it off, revealing what lay hidden underneath. It was another painting. Not of a man this time. A woman. Pyrrha recognised her almost immediately. She remembered seeing a drawing of her being used for target practice at the tribe's shooting range.
It was easy to see why.
She was the most evil-looking woman Pyrrha had ever seen, and she thought she had seen them all. But Cinder and Raven had nothing on this one. She looked like death made flesh, with that ghostly pale skin and hair. Dark veins ran up her skin like toxic rivers. Her eyes were the colour of blood, but not like Raven's. At least Raven had the spark of a warrior burning behind those orbs. This woman's eyes were like the blood of said warrior having been spilt, and left to dry in the cold darkness. There was no spark in those eyes. No passion, no emotion, nothing.
"Take a good look," Raven said. "Appreciate it. The artist who painted this clawed his own eyes shortly afterwards."
Looking at the painting, Pyrrha felt like tarantulas were creeping up her back. She expected her to reach out through the canvas and snatch her up. "Who is she?" Pyrrha whispered.
"Her name is Salem. Another meddling immortal from Ozpin's time. As you can see, immortality hasn't been as kind to her as it has to him. She and he have been at war with each other for centuries."
"She looks like a Grimm. How can anyone look like that?"
"I imagine it's quite easy if you're their queen."
Pyrrha stared at her. "What?"
"Oh yes. She's another creature of magic, though hers is a darker kind - if such a thing is possible. She has complete command over all the Grimm. Every time you look into the eyes of a Grimm, a part of her is staring back at you. Alone, they are monsters. It's when she starts telling them what to do that they become tools of destruction. I'm sure I don't need to remind you just how devastating a Grimm horde with direction can be."
Pyrrha remembered Oobleck's story of Mt Glenn. She remembered how the Grimm had overwhelmed Beacon. "No, you don't," she murmured.
"You've only seen a glimpse of what she can do. Beacon's destruction was barely a tilt of the head on her part. If she were to focus her full attention on us, the deaths would be immeasurable. We're talking entire countries on fire. Wholesale slaughter. What's worse, she can create new kinds of Grimm. Bewolves, Ursa, Karkadanns, they're just big angry animals. You should see the nightmares she's created especially for us. Thousands of years alive has given her an impressive imagination."
There was a little tremble in her voice, just the tiniest shake of anxiety. Fear. So there was something Raven was afraid of after all. The painting of Salem stared back at them, expressionless. Watching them. Pyrrha swallowed. How did Raven sleep with that thing next to her?
"But then again, you've never even heard of her, have you?' Raven sneered. "And why should you? I mean, why would anyone know about the immortal Grimm queen who wants to tear this world apart and kill all the little people inside?"
"I think I would've been awake for that history lesson," Pyrrha agreed quietly.
"It's because Ozpin doesn't want you to know." Raven threw the sheet back over the painting, though Pyrrha could still feel its eyes drilling into her.
"I don't understand."
"She and Ozpin have been at war with each other for centuries. I don't know what started it or who threw the first punch, but whatever it was, it made them hate each other ever since. Remnant has been devastated by their endless conflict that, to this day, still doesn't have an end in sight.
"At some point, Ozpin must've realised he couldn't defeat her on his own. It only took him thousands of reincarnations to realise what a failure he is. Rather than choosing to reflect upon himself, he decided to enlist the help of others to fight his battles for him. People who would take the hits, suffer the losses, all to spare him the hassle of waking up in a new body."
Raven pointed to Pyrrha and herself. "Humans. Faunus. Us measly mortals. It makes sense, I suppose. He already manipulates one person at a time, when he takes over their body. It's only natural that he would try to do it on a wider scale."
Pyrrha listened, wordless.
"He dragged us into a war he knew he couldn't win," Raven continued. "But it's easier to manipulate someone when you keep them in the dark. He'd claim he's being merciful by hiding the truth about Salem's existence from us, but he's only protecting himself. Look at how the world views huntsman and huntresses. Children dream of being just like their heroes, fighting the Grimm and saving the day. People preach of the honour and respect that comes with being a hunter, a defender of Remnant from the forces of darkness.
"It's a lie!" Raven hissed. "The truth is we're glorified pawns, roadblocks in the way of Salem's path to Ozpin. Could you imagine the outcry, if the rest of the world realised hunters only exist to clean up Ozpin's mess? No, he doesn't want that to happen. So he hides the truth, even from his closest supporters. Only his select few know of Salem's existence, and even then he leaves out enough details to sway them over to his side. Meanwhile, the rest of us bleed and die, wondering what the point of it all was."
Raven sighed. "Do you know what the sad thing is? Salem doesn't care about us. This has always been about him and her. She puts about as much thought into killing us and he does sending us to our deaths."
"No, this isn't… he can't…" Pyrrha felt the walls of the tent squeeze around her as the information twisted her brain to the point of popping. The air was thin and cold. She wanted to sit down - no, lie down and never get back up.
"It's interesting in perspective," Raven said. "Beacon's fall was traumatising for you. Your life was shattered when Ozpin asked you to become the Fall Maiden. It would've been the greatest sacrifice you ever made. But to him, it was just a stab in the dark. An afterthought. He didn't care if things went wrong because he knew he could try again. It's what he's been doing for centuries. I'm very sorry, but your friend Jaune died for nothing."
Pyrrha went still. Hearing Jaune's name stirred something familiar inside her. The madness faded and she found herself with a chilling form of clarity. She slowly turned her head at Raven.
Her fist shattered her nose.
It should've been satisfying finally being able to make the woman bleed, hearing the impressive crunch, that feeling of her knuckles burying their way deep in her face. With her aura down, Raven's blood splattered over her bandages. It should've felt great. It deserved to.
But it wasn't. Raven hadn't been caught off guard. She was too skilled for that. Still, she didn't try to block it, and even smiled when she got hit. Not a cry of pain, just a damn smile. Everyone smiled in this tribe when they got hurt. She wobbled for a moment then found her balance. Pyrrha's fist throbbed disappointingly. Back in the day, a punch from her would've knocked that cow off her feet.
She was dead now. Raven was gonna kill her. She finally had the chance to hit her, and it wasn't even at her best. So much for a worthy last act.
Raven coughed and held a hand to her face. Blood leaked from her fingers and blended into her red clothes. "Fair enough," she chuckled. "You'll have to earn the next one though."
"Never say his name again," Pyrrha snarled.
Raven shrugged. "As you will. It doesn't matter to me." She walked over to the table and prepared herself another cup of tea. Blood casually dripped down her face. "Want one? You look like you need one."
"Go to hell."
"Fine. More for me." She brought the cup to her face and winced when she swallowed. "Seriously, do you have any idea how unflattering a broken nose is on a woman? After I kept my promise too. I told you the truth about everything."
Pyrrha was always told that anger clouded the mind. Avoid anger if you want to focus. Not in this case. Her anger finally made everything make sense.
"You haven't told me anything!" Pyrrha barked. "All you've said is that Ozpin is some kind of immortal wizard, and he's been fighting this weird Grimm lady since forever, and a bunch of other conspiracy nutjob stuff! You call those answers? How do you expect me to believe you without me thinking you're completely insane?"
Raven sniffed. "To be honest, I don't care if you believe me or not. I told you because I thought you deserved to know. What you do with it is your choice."
"Then let me tell you what I think. I think you've been living in the woods for too long, and eating mushrooms for breakfast is finally starting to get to you. I think I'm done with this tribe, and I don't know why I didn't leave sooner. You're all just a bunch of violent, masochistic, delusional scumbags. Nothing about you makes sense."
"Then let me tell you something that does make sense." Raven sat down on the cushion and gestured to the other one. "Sit down. If you listen to me, I might even let you break my jaw next."
Pyrrha let her frustration hiss out through her teeth. She'd be lying if she said that wasn't a tempting offer. She slowly sat down, surprised that her head was still attached to her shoulders.
"Let's say I believe you," Pyrrha sighed. "Let's say Salem is real and she's the one we should all be afraid of. Who cares? It's like you said, she's immortal. That means we've already lost, right?"
"Immortal does not mean unbeatable," Raven said. "There might be a way. There exist these items in the world. Magical objects of great power. Relics, we call them. It's complicated, I'll explain those another time."
"Great, more mysticism," Pyrrha groaned.
"I'm trying to keep things as simple as I can."
"Really? Good job."
"Do you think I wanted this?" Raven sighed. "Do you think I left my husband and daughter to live out my dream of living in a tent, bleeding into a teacup?"
"And that's why I'll never understand you," Pyrrha said. "Because you had the life. You had loved ones, and you chose to throw them away. You weren't forced to come here, you're here because you want to be. Why is that?" Raven hadn't given her a straight answer that night, but maybe she would now, since she was in a chatty mood.
"Because like it or not, we're in this war now," Raven said. "Ozpin can be brilliant sometimes. He's successfully manipulated me into doing his work for him. Only I'm doing it on my terms."
Pyrrha's frown deepened. "Are you saying you're here to fight Salem?"
"That is my purpose in life now."
Pyrrha wanted to laugh. The delusion, the sheer madness of this woman. Yang would be thrilled to hear that her mother left her to chase a fantasy. "And what exactly are you going to do? Turn into a bird and peck her face?"
A bit of blood dripped into Raven's tea. She wiped her nose with a cloth. "What do you think of Remnant as a whole?"
"What?"
"Remnant. The state of the world. What's your opinion on it?
"I don't-"
"It's a mess, isn't it?" Raven cut in. "Is it any wonder we've been so easy to manipulate? We live in a society built on hatred and uncertainty. We are selfish, ignorant, stupid people. We squabble over inconsequential things like money and fame. We wage war with each other because some of us were born with extra ears. We were divided long before all this. I sometimes think we deserve what's coming.
"Look at how our great leaders have reacted to this 'disaster'. Ozpin panicked and lost his city. Lionheart is ready to flee with his tail between his legs. Ironwood is one bad day away from pushing the armageddon button. And the less said about that prancing fool Theodore, the better. The only way we can make things easier for Salem, is if we roll out the red carpet for her arrival."
"What's your point?" Pyrrha said.
"There is an alternative," Raven said. "If we are to survive this, we need a new way of thinking. We need to remove everything that separates us. All those petty trivialities that make us 'unique' are meaningless. No race matters, no kingdom matters, no class matters. The teams have already been decided - us against her. We need to be united under one banner, one movement, and one leader. A leader with the strength and resolve to see this through."
Raven stood up. Her body glowed red and her nose repaired itself. She walked past Pyrrha and exited the tent. Pyrrha frowned and followed after her.
They stood outside. Raven's tent had a fantastic view of the whole tribe. A seat atop the garbage pile. They were away from the trash, but there was no escaping the stench. Pyrrha could see the bandits buzzing around, flies amidst the filth.
Raven pointed to a group of burly figures sitting around a fire. "Those used to be Bloodblades. A gang of ex-convicts with nowhere else to go. They enjoy country music, smoked meat, and casually disembowelling anyone who disrespects them." She pointed to some faunus men chopping wood. "Over there are former Sons of the Beast. An extremist group so vicious even the White Fang wanted nothing to do with them. Bombing schools and cities is fine, but biting chunks of flesh out of people is a bit much." Her finger landed on several tattooed-covered people exercising. "The Wild Skulls. Name a crime, they've done it and probably invented it. They used to occupy a big portion of this wilderness. That was until I came along and put them in their place."
"Congratulations, you've assembled all the terrible people in Mistral and shoved them into place," Pyrrha muttered. "Is there a spot for Salem down there too?"
"You don't understand. These are people who would've never worked together before. I beat them all down and stripped them of their former allegiances. Now they work for me. Under my guidance, they've gone from being undisciplined brutes into soldiers with direction and focus. Everyone here is united under my cause. Faunus, human, criminal or honest soul, we all make up the same body.
"We don't need Ozpin," Raven growled. "He dragged us into this mess, and we can pull ourselves out of it. This is my solution. The Branwen Tribe. My people. My example. My army."
Pyrrha looked at her. "Army?"
Raven nodded. "This is what it's always been about. There are no secrets here, no lies or deceit. Everyone here knows who Salem is and what she's capable of. Everyone here is hardened and ready for whatever doomsday comes our way. If mankind is to fall, our roars will be Salem's final memory of us."
Raven frowned and her shoulders sagged slightly. "I didn't want to abandon Yang and her father. But once I discovered the truth, I knew I had to take action. I had to prepare Remnant for what is to come. There will be a day when mothers can raise their children in peace, and I will give my life to make it happen. But it is a joy I know I will never experience."
Shay had mentioned something about their goals of saving the world when she first arrived. She had dismissed it as another one of his stupid jokes. But hearing Raven now changed her mind. If magic came from an original source, then so too did madness.
"My God, you really believe in all that, don't you?" Pyrrha breathed. "You really are insane."
"I'm a lot of bad things," Raven said. "I don't think insane is one of them."
"Even if Salem is real, you think this is gonna be enough to stop her? If Ozpin couldn't do it, what chance do you have?"
"Who knows?" Raven chuckled. "But I'm no Ozpin. I won't make the same mistakes as him. I won't keep Remnant in the dark any longer. These forests are only the start. Once Lionheart gives us the keys to Mistral, our aim is the rest of the world. Under my guidance and leadership, all of mankind will be united and ready.
She grinned. "I'm going to do what Ozpin never could. I'm going to win this war. And I'll only need one life to do it.
Pyrrha looked down at the thousands of bandits that swarmed below, then back at the woman who governed them all. Pyrrha swallowed, realising just how scary it was to see a madwoman fancying herself a genius.