Where has the time gone?
It's been over six months since I last updated. My excuse? Been busy. College and all that, transferring and exams that sort of thing needed my undivided attention. But I finally had a few days to sit down and work on this and its been a long time coming. I'm sorry I left you all hanging.
Before we continue I'd like to make some announcements.
After posting this chapter and the following interlude I want to change how I do things. I want a schedule, I want to be consistently updating this story but I know I can't do that, not with how things are for me. So, I'm going to be doing things differently.
I won't update this story until after I've completed an entire arc.
That way I'll have five chapters and a complete story to release and I won't be leaving anyone on a cliffhanger like last time. The updates won't be daily however, I'm looking more of a Monday/Friday update schedule. But, I guess we'll just see how things go from here.
Than you all for your patience. I'm glad to be back writing.
As usual notes about the material will be down below.
LV
Tears of Venezier: Conclusion
An amused smile wormed its way onto Sky's face. The halberd bearing young man found himself walking down the horrid shanty tents where Kruger and his men had kept the faunus populace chained, all the while the recollection of events leading up to now played in his head.
It hadn't even been a year since he'd run away from his life, leaving the world of his Mother and Father, their archeological escapades and their unaccepting disposition, for a life serving the greater good of humanity as one of Vale's Huntsmen.
He'd arrived armed with aura and semblance, gained from the perils of navigating trap filled tombs and combating the ancient Grimm that dwell within sacred lost temples. There Sky had met men and women who'd inspired him to give everything he could to the salvation of mankind. It also didn't hurt that he'd uncovered a cloak and dagger cabal dedicated towards the protection of humanity. So when he'd been asked to join, how could he possibly refuse?
During the chaos of the attack during the Vytal Tournament, Sky had been in discussion with Ozpin, it was then that'd he'd received this assignment, to come here to Venezier and retrieve something so world shattering it threatened to plunge the world into another Great War.
It hadn't been a month since Sky had found himself in Kruger's employ. The dear doctor had recognized him due to his notoriety and quickly added him to his excavating team. Since then Sky had positioned himself as a key member of Kruger's camp, aiding them in their goal of uncovering the Sentinel's storehouse, but all the while keeping them from their goal.
Kruger may have been world renown in his area of expertise as an ecologist, but by no means was he known for his knowledge of the old languages and their glyph like structure, something akin to the standard script of pre-expansion societies. Fooling Kruger had been easy, all Sky had to do was lead him in circles, forever keeping him from goal.
However, even then Sky knew he couldn't keep his efforts up forever, not with the doctor and his mercenaries growing impatient and the many lives that they'd dragged through hell to accomplish this task.
Thankfully, aid had finally arrived. Though it wasn't in the form of experienced Huntsmen such as Ms. Goodwitch or the veteran Huntsman Qrow Branwen, but rather in the form of Sky's own peers, which didn't exactly bode well for the current state of Vale. But beggars couldn't choosers, it was now or never.
For less than a month Sky had sat in wait for the perfect opportunity to pull the rug out from under Kruger, mentally mapping the patrol layout of the camp and discreetly procuring the means to liberate the captured faunus from their bonds. So with Kruger and the majority of the Blimey Cocks converging on his friends, he could now safely begin his spring his breakout.
Through the shanty tents he went, behind the backs of the few remaining guards, Sky unshackled the men and women, who then gathered up their arms and proceeded to wrought just vengeance upon their oppressors. Without a word Sky continued on his way as the faunus turned their attention towards Venezier and began to march. He was unsure if they'd succeed in besting Kruger, or even if they could arrive in time to aid the others in their struggle, despite the steps he'd taken to provide Russel and the others every advantage he could, he remained uncertain of their ultimate fate. Though he was worried, Sky could not afford to waste his precious time growing gray hairs, he had a mission to complete.
Alone in the empty camp, Sky made his way down the old dried up and abandoned mine of Old Venezier. He walked deeper into the hole, descending into the darkness. Then, when he'd reached a dead end, he activated his semblance. Sky's eyes turned pure white and the faux wall and its hidden mechanisms became clear. So then he reached for his halberd and cut away at the ancient locks and then the rock began to pull apart, revealing the entrance to the much sought after mythical storehouse of The Sentinel of Vacuo.
The Lark boy then glanced upward to the foreboding entrance, noting the series of glyphs. Sky was not only armed with semblance and steel, but also with knowledge. Knowledge he'd gleamed from his upbringing surrounded with ancient texts and an infinite amount of free time. Perpendicular glyphs glowered and made threatening claims of immediate and painful demises. But the glyphs overhead with their slight sags and vibrant patterns spoke of the truth that lay beyond and through them the means to safely journey through this maze of death.
Confidant in his own abilities, the Lark reminded himself that failure was not an option. At any moment more of Kruger's enlisted men would rear their heads and pursue, and so too will the good doctor himself. He would need to be quick. However, he lamented this fact, as soon as he'd stepped through the threshold the maze of infinite death peered down on him. Sky knew he could not rush through this conundrum, that any mistake on his part could prove to be his final, and so he took his time, dancing through the deathtraps and their endless imagination, all the while inching his way to his goal: that which reside within the Sentinel's storehouse.
Never in all his years of living did Russel suspect he'd find himself in such dire circumstances. Growing up he'd always been told to expect the worst from the likes of Grimm, the ravenous monsters that plagued humanity, but here in a town called Venezier, he fought no blood thirsty beasts but that of his fellow man. Cut off from reaching out to anyone back in Vale due to the worldwide communications blackout, the murderous regime that lay claim to the town now closes in for the kill. Facing foes too numerous to count and with friends captured and used for leverage. The whole situation looked bleak as the one thing keeping the likes of Dr. Kruger and the Blimey Cocks from raining hell down upon Russel and his motley band was a simple journal too precious to see destroyed.
"Heh." An amused, blood stained smirk appeared on the Thrush's face.
"Hm?" Dove perked up, turning away from the work on his exposed sword to face his teammate. Confused by the levity, he couldn't help but ask, "What's up?"
All traces of amusement dissipated in an instance as Russel was pulled from his thoughts. He turned to Dove and spoke joylessly. "Just realized something funny. I've been fighting people more than I've been fighting Grimm."
The flight capable CRDL boy frowned at his colleague. "How's that even remotely funny?"
"I dunno." He shrugged. "Just seemed so."
"You sign up to fight the monsters, then all you do is wind up fighting your own people." Dove glanced back down to his sword laid out in its individual components on the floor. From the individual blade, to the hilt, to the underslung pistol mechanism to the grip, it was all there presented for Dove to tinker with. "If anything, that just sounds sad." He reached out for the pistol and proceeded to exercise the dust round from the chamber.
"I didn't say I wasn't fighting monsters." Russel remarked as he himself returned to his own preparations.
Before the Thrush lay the few tools available to him. On the floor was the Uzi he'd obtained from the Blimey Cocks camp, and beside that were the few precious ammunition he carried for it. Then there were two sticks of dynamite he'd also procured, as well as the lighter to light them and the journal should he deem it necessary. Aside from those, he had the dagger he'd also taken. There was nothing aesthetically enticing about the dagger, it was plain, it bore no obvious modifications and its blade was hardly sharp, useful only when it came to stabbing a man. He could forget about cleaving anyone, especially anyone with an aura, the blade would very likely shatter on contact. And lastly, he had his pocket knife.
So that was it. That was all the Thrush had to work with. And there were over a hundred Blimey Cocks to deal with, not to mention Kruger's mercenaries. By now all delusions of a peaceful resolution were gone from his mind, he just had to look to his wounds for proof. Not to mention he highly doubted that they'd be allowed to leave Venezier, should the exchange go down without a hitch.
Odds were Kruger would levy Danny and Marie-Anne, threaten to kill them on the spot, probably will off one to show he's serious until they hand over the journal. From there, they'll either be taken captive and made to work alongside the captured faunus doing whatever it is the good doctor is having them do out in Old Venezier. That is, unless, they aren't killed after the trade, or if they even make it to the town square. For all Russel knew there could be some sniper down the beach watching the cabin or a group of them up the road to ready jump them.
Then he took one last look at the tools at his disposal and weighed them against the forces that he opposed. With a long drawn out sigh Russel concluded: people will die.
There was no room for doubt that Kruger would not keep his word, not when he had every advantage. Not when Russel and his colleagues posed such a threat to exposing his crimes to the outside world. Confrontation was going to happen regardless of whatever action Russel took and people would die, whether it be himself or Dove, or Danny and Marie-Anne, or Redhorse or any other civilian caught in the crossfire. People were going to die.
So he reached out and plucked his knife off the floor, holding it out as if weighing it in his hand. It had never felt so heavy. He thought back to a few nights ago, back to that night in the outskirts of Vale, within the limits of the safe zone. In that warehouse where he'd murdered Lance Grimsby.
By now he was no stranger to death, nor was any other citizen of his fair kingdom, but to say he had left the experience unscathed would be a flat out lie. Truth be told, Russel was disturbed by the confrontation. But what unnerved him so was not the killing of Lance, he'd come to terms with that prior to the incident, resolving the Grimsby boy to be a monster that threatened the safety of all those who continued to live in the shadow of the city's fall. No, what disturbed Russel so was just how easy it had been to end the boy's life.
In another life where, in another time where Vale had not fallen, where CRDL and RWBY along with JNPR and CFVY had gone on to graduate and become full-fledged Huntsmen on their own terms, Russel would have been begrudgingly forced to call Lance a comrade in arms in their daily war against the beast of Grimm. But now, Lance was just another victim, another name marked down on an ever growing list of lives taken by the Thrush since birth, and that was fine by him, he wouldn't be alone for too much longer.
"You don't have to do this, you know." Redhorse said, pulling the two wounded Huntsmen's attention from their work as they prepared for their inevitable confrontation in town square. "You could go any moment now and leave, leave this town and get help, not for this town or its people but for yourselves. I'm a good doctor, I've patched you boys up, but you need professionals with equipment, not kitchen utensils." He gestured to the blood stained household appliances resting by the wayside. "You're bloody messes, unfit for the job. I'm a man of medicine, I can't within good conscience allow you two to walk out there to your deaths."
Russel could not deny the truth in the doctor's words, they were rookies, weathered by the fall of their kingdom and their wounds still fresh. What they needed was rest, what they needed was three more years of combat school training, what they needed to do was reach out for help back in Vale. But none of that was possible. The meeting was within hours, Beacon was in ruins and with the world wide communication blackout there just was no way to contact Goodwitch or anyone else back at the Safe Zone.
By all means, Russel just wanted to lie down and sleep, to shut his eyes and drift off for a whole day, let his body heal and his mind mend. But no doubt did the people of Venezier desire that as well, to sleep peacefully without the threat of a roving band of nihilistic mass murderers dictating their daily lives, that the Faunus can free themselves from their bonds and go home, forget their terrible treatment and attempt to start anew.
This was beyond what Russel wanted. This was about evil men taking control and forcing their will upon the unwilling through intimidation and force and that the only people able to do anything about it were the people in hiding away in this beachside cabin.
"No, but we do." Russel spoke quietly, his eyes returning to the knife in his hand and drawing a thumb over the name carved into its wooden handle. "We're Huntsmen, this is what we do."
"I can't just stand around and let you do this," Redhorse said firmly.
"Then leave," Russel glanced back at the man, the very same who very well saved his life just hours earlier. "I'm not asking you to fight or even to help, this is our job and you've done enough. We've got a town to save and I don't need this negativity. So go."
Redhorse opened his mouth to argue, but then he stopped himself. His shoulders fell and he sighed. "I just don't want anyone else to die." He said, looking so haggard by the horrors he'd witnessed under Blimey Cocks occupation.
Russel just stared at the man and shook his head before turning his attention back to his weapons. Without a word, Redhorse turned his back to the duo and solemnly trudged off elsewhere.
"So, what are we going to do?" Dove asked breaking the tense silence, turning to his teammate with an expectant gaze. "We do have a plan, right?"
Russel frowned, he frowned and then he did what he was best at. He poured into that head of his and he thought things through before that frown was replaced with one of his trademark smirks. "Yeah, yeah, I've got a plan."
The sun was setting over Venezier.
What few townsfolk remained stood at attention, unsure of what exactly was about to go down, but the air electric and something felt was about to give. Ever since their takeover, the oppressed people have stood in fear for their lives, doing all that they could to keep out of sight from the now ruling mob of fanatical nihilists. But now, now the good people of Venezier stood in wait, eyeing up the assembling party in the center of town.
Town Square was buzzing with still life. On the side opposite of the coast, Dr. Kruger waited, flanked by his mercenaries, the stout Pepper, the gruesome Coyote and the faux Sheriff Brussels. Danny Matchstick and Marie-Anne Cherri were present at the forefront of the assembled mob, guns trained at the back of their heads as they continued to serve as bargaining chips in a game the Doctor and his men were certain they'd already won. The jeeps that flanked them were of similar make filled to the brim with Blimey Cocks, all the while a number of their members positioned themselves on vantage points atop rooftops, armed to the teeth with rifles and various other firearms. Not one of them said a word, opting to wait in silence for their opposing party to meet them, all the while sure of themselves exactly how this would go down.
When the sun had finally set, that was then Russel appeared. The dying light to his back, he walked without a care, fearing not the sights of the men positioned on rooftops, nor did he quiver before the sheer number his opposition had mounted.
"That's right, all eyes on me." Russel muttered under his breath as he reached the center of town.
"Mr. Thrush." Kruger greeted the Huntsman, crossing his arms over his freshly pressed vest and casting a contemptuous glare towards the young man. "I would like my journal now."
But Kruger's words fell on deaf ears, as Russel's attention was elsewhere, glancing past the man and past his foot soldiers, to Danny and Marie-Anne, who only stared back as men kept guns to the backs of their heads.
Then Russel turned his eyes to another familiar face. There, standing beside Kruger's mercenaries was the man who'd first greeted Russel and his cohorts when they'd first entered town and again when they'd infiltrated the camp back in Old Venezier. He hadn't realized it then, but now Russel understood the man's importance. He held seniority, leadership amongst this gaggle of fuckwits.
Kruger cleared his throat. "You've wasted enough of my time, the journal now. Or I have my men kill them."
Russel turned his attention to Kruger and stared the man in the eyes. "Release them first," he said before pointing upward, "or my friend there burns your journal."
Raising a brow, Kruger and his immediate subordinates looked upward and there they found Dove, hundreds of feet off the ground and out of range from the men's guns, holding the sought after journal in one hand, a match in the other. Though Kruger had seen it with his own eyes hours earlier, the sight of Dove just floating there defying all reason and preconceived notions of gravity baffled him.
But Kruger was not the only one to turn their attention upward to Dove, so too did the Blimey Cocks' senior. With nominal gangland leader's attention diverted elsewhere, of course the rest of the followers would be interested and followed in succession until all eyes were looking up at the boy who could fly.
Russel could only snort in amusement at the sight, so many slack jawed faces, so many utterly stunned at the sight of Dove using his semblance. Now, however, in this brief window time, Russel reminded himself of a comment Redhorse had made, when he'd witnessed Dove's aura kick his recovery into overtime. The physician had been so baffled by the sight and claimed to have never seen such a sight in person. The words had clung to the back of the Thrush's mind, nagging away at him, but now, he finally understood why.
The Blimey Cocks weren't just some roving bandit clan pillaging a poor defenseless town. This was their home, they'd grown up here, never took to kind with the Faunus population and at the first chance they'd been given to change things to suite their preference they'd jumped for it. They'd slaughtered neighbors, subjugated strangers and killed kin, all in the name of their ideology. But they were residents of Venezier, and the whole time they'd been here not once did Redhorse, the long-time local doctor, witness an aura in action.
But just because Redhorse had never seen an aura amongst the town's folk before didn't mean no one had one. Russel himself had grown up in a rural town where the old farts who drank their problems away at the local pub had a life time ago been seasoned Huntsmen. Not to mention this was a town famous for the tourism, all walks of life just appeared here and any aura wielder could be assimilated. But the Blimey Cocks weren't the kind to accept outsiders, given how they'd been so confrontational in their first meeting despite not knowing they were Huntsmen, so Russel doubted they had any sense of inclusivity.
So Russel turned his attention back to the Blimey Cocks' senior. He then, out from under his bracer, he produced his knife. "Hey, you." Russel called out for the man's attention. Once the Senior was looking at him, Russel raised his knife and spoke aloud. "I'm gonna throw this at your face."
Before Kruger could even comment on the Thrush's actions, the knife had left his hand and the blade impaling the man's forehead. The Senior fell over without so much as a sound, with some of the Blimey Cocks number gasping at the act and some others completely unaware at what had transpired.
Now as Russel was well aware, auras were a fickle thing. Supposedly they were the manifestation of one's soul given physical form, your own personal shield in which you could derive power in the form of semblances and bolster your physical prowess. But auras didn't automatically protect you from any blow, if you had it covering your body every day of the week, you wouldn't be able to feel the wind in your face, the softness of one's pillow as lay down for the night. You needed to be attentive in your use of aura, knowing how to control it and where to apply it, such as on one's forehead if you were being told someone was going to chuck a knife at you. But even with the forewarning, the knife still cut through the Senior's skull and he now lay dead as proof.
The Senior didn't have an aura, Russel concluded, now what were the odds the rest of the Blimey Cocks didn't have auras either?
"Now what was the point to that?" Kruger questioned, surprisingly taking the murder of one of his subordinates better than Russel would have thought.
All Russel could do was smirk as all eyes fell back to him and away from Dove. It was no longer the boy in the air that concerned them, rather, it was the one who drew first blood and got away with it. But that was alright, that was fine with Russel, they were doing everything he wanted them to do.
This was always going to end in bloodshed, there was never going to be another option. That was a heavy realization and one that Russel did not find comfort in. But, if he was to find any solace in his decisions, it was that the next few minutes would be on his terms. It seemed so scary, pants wetting levels of anxiety scary, to believe you would be facing over a hundred people for the fate of one town. But that wasn't the reality of the situation. Only Kruger and his mercenaries posed any real threat.
Without warning, Dove pocketed the journal. Following earlier instructions, he lit both sticks of dynamite and then dropped them over the mob of Blimey Cocks.
What unfolded was utter chaos. Two sticks of dynamite, two explosions, had they been lucky that would have dealt with a quarter of the Blimey Cocks. What Russel hadn't counted on was Dove's aim, who'd dropped one of the sticks on one of the parked jeeps. Fiery metal debris shot forth striking all manner of Blimey Cocks, ripping through the immediate few and then embedding into unfortunate others.
While Russel would have liked to just watch the chaos unfold as the Blimey Cocks started to disperse, it was easy acting tough when you've seemingly got the whole deck stacked in your favor but when things start turning into one big cluster fuck you start seeing self-preservation kick in and the ants go running, but time was of the essence and he needed to free Danny and Marie-Anne immediately.
But before the explosions, Danny produced from his mouth a key from his shackles and freed both Marie-Anne and himself from his bonds. With the distraction created by the ensuing chaos, they overpowered their guards and confiscated their weapons. Gun fire rang out as Danny turned his guns on the Blimey Cocks and Marie-Anne's fire sword soon found itself being thrust into men's chests.
And then there was Dove, who'd begun swooping out of the air, grabbing the men positioned on rooftops. He'd quickly ascend before releasing his hold and sending them plummeting to the ground below. Russel wanted to comment on the act, swearing it was something he'd seen a Nevermore do during the Fall. But, given the circumstances, just about anything went.
So then, as all the Blimey Cocks scattered, Russel began to draw his uzi and take aim on the real threats to the town of Venezier. But Dr. Kruger had chosen his mercenaries wisely, Brussels was already upon the Thrush. Out of the crowd, the faux sheriff sprinted forth and grabbed Russel by the neck and choke slammed him onto the ground. But Brussels didn't stop there, he ran Russel through the dirt road, leaving a skid mark in his wake.
Russel could hear the Sheriff laughing, mocking him as he continued to drag him through town. He tried to fend off, to cause him to lose his hold, but he just couldn't mount the effort. He was utterly powerless to prevent Brussels from ripping him off the ground and then throwing him across the square.
The Thrush ragdolled, kicking up dirt in his wake before coming to a stop. He struggled to pick himself off the ground, only to feel a pair of hand reach out and carefully grab him by the arms in aid. Russel looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of Redhorse helping him to his feet.
"You shouldn't be here." Russel said.
"I'm a doctor, you're my patient," Redhorse smirked. "I can't within good conscience let you do this alone." He said before turning to face Brussels. "We've had enough of you and yours, turning our town into your own carnival horror show. It ends today!" Redhorse shouted, earning a hearty cheer from some on lookers. Soon, more towns folk were cheering, some even stepping off from the sides and then joining Redhorse and Russel's side.
"Suit yourself." Brussels sneered before rushing towards Russel and the townies. The faux Sheriff swatted the townies and grabbed ahold of Redhorse, tossing them man aside. Russel called out for the doctor, only to get steamrolled by Brussels.
Brussels tore into the Thrush, not bothering with any weapon, rather opting to use his bare hands to, staining his knuckles with Russel's blood. Midway through his assault, the most precarious thing occurred.
The very ground they all stood on began to shake.
All combat ceased, all scurrying Blimey Cocks froze in their feet, and Dr. Kruger could only stare as a huge beam of blue light shot out of the ground from Old Venezier and pierced the heavens above.
"…No…" Dr. Kruger spoke breathlessly. "…He found it. He found it and he opened it." He said as his brows began to furrow in anger. "He opened it without me."
But the night was young and there were still surprises to be had, as the ground ceased to quake and in its place the presence of a hundred footsteps became known. In the direction of Old Venezier, with their backs to the blaring beam of blue light, the Faunus marched onto the town.
With a cry, the Faunus raised their weapons, guns taken from their imprisoners or the tools they'd used when forced to excavate the mine. They then charged into the crowd of Blimey Cocks and joined with the Huntsmen and Townies in their conflict.
Russel didn't even need to guess at what happened. If anything, the recent turn of events stoked his pride, he really was one hell of a distraction. All he needed to do was just make Kruger turn his back on Sky and the Lark had managed to turn the tide in their favor.
Unfortunately, Russel couldn't savor the moment, as Brussels pulled him into the air before spinning him, gaining momentum then with all his might threw him.
Russel crashed through the Saloon window without so much as a sound, rolling up into a ball upon impact and minimizing his chances of landing on shards of glass. Though his body ached and wailed, he knew he couldn't just lay down, not with Brussels focused on him. If he was going to best the mercenary, then he was going to need to act and quickly. However, just as he'd gotten back onto his feet, Russel felt a pair of hands roughly grab at his back and spin him around.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that Russel?" Brussels said before delivering an aura infused punch across Russel's chin, sending the Thrush flying backwards and slamming through a table. "Show up talkin' all tough and shit, but you ain't tough, you ain't shit." He spat. "You came to my town, came here and started wrecking my shit. I had a good thing going here, paid to keep everyone in check, even got to head my own private army of hicks." The faux sheriff candidly spoke as he made his way across the vacant watering hole, to the downed Thrush. "But then along comes some runt punk who thinks he can play 'Huntsman', play 'Hero'. But even after all the shit he's pull it ain't amounted to squat."
Brussels reached down once again, grabbing the wounded Russel and then proceeded to raise him off the ground. "As soon as I'm done here fuckin' you up, ah'll head back out there and sort this mess out. Ah'll kill my way through your pals, then the Faunus, and finally ah'll cut through these ingrate shit townies that just couldn't sit back and let me have my fun After that? Well, then I guess ah'll just collect my check."
"Eyes up here, asshole." Russel defiantly spat up blood on his enemy. He then grabbed for his still holstered uzi and then turned its barrel towards Brussel's gut before pulling the trigger. The point blank bullets ripped through Brussel's aura and tore into his abdomen, causing the man to falter backwards in recoil as well as release Russel from his grasp.
Both men collapsed onto the ground, Brussel's landing on his back while Russel fell flat on his face.
Of the two, however, it was Russel who found his footing. He took a step forward and heaved, glaring at the man before him. "F-fuck you." Brussels cursed as he desperately tried to keep his guts from spilling out of holes that wrought his body. But despite the nature of the wound, the man's aura was already attempting to repair the damage. Soon, Brussel's would be back on his feet and he'd make good on his threats. That was something Russel could not allow.
Staggering forward, Russel closed the distance between himself and Brussels. He fully drew his uzi, swapping out the magazine for a fresh one and then he took aim at his wounded opponent. He held down on the trigger, fought the recoil to keep it steady, until the weapon didn't fire anymore.
With the last of his ammunition dried up, Russel tossed the uzi at what now resembled hamburger meat and made his way back out to the town square turned battleground. He sauntered through the fighting, making his way back to the center, past the flying bullets and cleaving pick axes, until he happened upon the Senior's body. He pressed a foot against the body and kicked it over so his face was turned upward to the sky. He the leaned down and drew his knife from his head, taking the blade and then wiping the blood on the man's clothes.
"Coyote, we need to go!" Dr. Kruger shouted to his mercenary, pointing back to Old Venezier just as the blue beam of light dissipated.
The walking slaughterhouse indulged his employer, dropping the now fresh Faunus carcass in his hands and then proceeding to escort Kruger to an awaiting jeep. But their actions did not go unnoticed, as Danny Matchstick had kept an eye out for the doctor the entire time.
"Russel!" Danny shouted amongst the ensuing melee gaining the Thrush's ear. The Huntsman leader turned his guns towards the stout mercenary Pepper, who busied himself with gutting a Faunus. "Kruger's booking it back to Sky, we'll handle this, pursue him and help Sky with whatever the hell is going on with that beam of light!"
All Russel could do was raise a weary arm in acknowledgement as Danny laid into Pepper until the man collapsed. He pushed his way past the brawling townsfolk and leapt over fallen fighters and made his way to where they had stashed their horses from earlier. But, much to Russel's dismay, he found their steeds lying on the ground dead, no doubt killed in retribution.
So, with their initial transportation gone, Russel resolved to acquire another means. Racing through the brawl, Russel made it to one of the parked Blimey Cocks jeeps and much to his relief, found the keys in the ignition. He could only suspect that the driver had been one of the initial few killed when Dove dropped the dynamite or that he now was in the thick of things with the battle, but Russel couldn't deal with uncertainties, what he needed to do was give chase and thankfully he now had the ability to do so.
It had been a while since he'd driven anything, the last thing with wheels he'd been behind the wheel of was his farms tractor. But he was sure there was some overlap. So then he threw the jeep into reverse and slammed his foot down on the gas. He jerked forward as the jeep began to speed backwards without so much as a warm up.
And so Russel sped out through the desert hills, chasing after Kruger via the dust kicked up by his own vehicle. The jeep Russel rode in ramped off hills, landing violently but continued onward. Though Kruger had the lead on him, in time Russel encounter him, after all he was heading after whatever had caused that beam of light, he'd have to get out the car sometime.
But as Russel reached Old Venezier, he found his earlier assumption to be incorrect. Kruger's vehicle did not stop, rather it continued speeding and ran down the old abandoned mine shaft. With a grunt, Russel continued pursuit.
The mine proved to be a tight squeeze, as soon as he drove down the darkened passage, the rear view mirrors were ripped off the side of his car. The carbon fiber material that comprised the exterior make-up of the jeep scraped against the rocky walls of the mine, echoing for what seemed to be for miles.
Soon, after passing what appeared to be an entrance way, all natural light ceased to enter mine. Acting quickly, Russel switched on the headlights brightening his path and revealing a sharp turn ahead. Reacting, Russel made the complete 180 degree turn, facing him back in the direction towards Venezier. He then found the hood of Kruger's jeep flying towards him and slamming against his hood.
Russel just raised a brow at the action, no doubt they'd been aware of his pursuit of them, but surely would have mounted some more final solution other than throwing their hood at him. But then Russel spared a glance at the roof of his own jeep, noting that it wasn't a convertible, and that both his own and Kruger's jeep were the same model, which left him puzzled as to how they'd removed it in the first place.
The answer to Russel's unasked question came in the form of a stone blade carving through the top of his car. The Huntsman ducked his head, saving himself from an unfortunate beheading. As he lost the roof of his jeep another blade sprang forth, chopping down at him and another slashed at his tires. Russel shook forward as all four of his tires popped.
Silently, Russel cursed himself for blindly into a death trap. Supposedly, if anything Sky had told him had been true, this was to be the secret storehouse of The Sentinel of Vacuo, of course there'd be traps.
The front windshield glass washed over Russel as stone tipped arrows rained over his vehicle. By now, Russel had taken to covering his head under the dashboard, saving himself from certain death.
But he could not hide forever, he was in a moving vehicle and he needed to see where he was going, lest he run afoul of anther sharp turn. So he poked his head over the steering wheel and saw that he was entering some sort of chasm and the distinct scent of sea water hung tightly to the walls.
With more questions than answers, Russel found himself dodging death yet again, this time in the form of a parked jeep. He threw on the breaks as soon as the vehicle came into view, but it was already too late. Russel's jeep collided with the parked one, sending his car flipping into the air.
Acting quickly, Russel reached over to the passenger side seat and laid himself across both seats and wrapped his arms and legs in their seatbelts. The jeep slammed against rock, skidding and then tumbling over until in came to a rest on its side.
Groaning, the Thrush fell out of the jeep and clutched his left shoulder while his arm hung dead. He screamed out in pain as he attempted to pop the bone back into its socket, but it just wasn't taking. So Russel tried again, then again and then again until his arm was back in place. He kicked at the ground, writhed in pain, and spat a slew of curses, all the one's he'd known and even invented new ones to express the discomfort that he felt.
But he worked at it, until he heard the 'pop'. He gave his arm a test, rolling it around and seeing how far he could push it. But it wasn't good as new, he'd just set a dislocated shoulder, that had consequences all its own. He was at another disadvantage and just when he needed to be at the top of his game.
Looking back to his jeep, Russel turned his attention to the one he'd hit. Kruger's jeep was in just as bad a shape as his was, having also run the gauntlet. But the good doctor was nowhere to be seen. So he'd parked his car and set off on foot, now the only question was why? So then Russel turned back around and felt like a fool.
Staring down at the Thrush was an entry way and above that was a familiar emblem. Adorning the rocky wall was the Vacuo flag, or rather, the three swords the made up the popularized image of the Vacuan flag. The questions continued to mount and he would forever be without answers if he remained here. Resolving to see things through, Russel entered the passage way.
It felt cold, which was unlike anything he'd come to expect. Being deep within the rock without any obvious signs of ventilation, Russel had expected air to be in short supply, and yet it was plentiful and it smelled like the sea. He wasn't sure if they were close to Venezier, close to the ocean, under the ocean even, but what he was certain of was he still had a job to do.
So Russel drew his dagger and held it in his right arm readying himself. He stepped through another threshold and out of the dark chasm he was enveloped by shimmering moonlight. And what welcomed him was a mile wide sight, a dome made of pink coral housing a hundred empty shelves, with the still waters of Venezier defying all reason and logic by refusing to seep through the pores and fill the interior, the waveless content with coexisting with this space with the only exception of a small stream surrounding a pedestal in the center.
"Where is it, Sky? I know you have it!" Up ahead, Russel could hear Kruger shout. Peering through the shimmering darkness he could make out three figures, two standing imposingly and one in defiance. "Where is the knowledge?!"
"You came here to rob the Sentinel, but you never once considered that maybe he didn't have what you were seeking." Sky said with smile, before Coyote's fist hammered against him, knocking him down onto the water.
"Search him, he has to have it on him." Kruger ordered.
Coyote loomed over Sky and fought against the thrashing Lark. "You won't find anything on me. Face it Kruger, you're efforts have been for naught."
"Then what was the point for building this? Building all of this?" The good doctor gestured to the immense storehouse, to the hundred shelves and to the pedestal surrounded by sea water. "If not to harbor his accumulated knowledge, why would the Sentinel create this storehouse, what was the pint to it all?" He continued to shout.
You know, don't you?" He glared down at Sky. "You Larks and your ways. You knew the whole time how to get in here, didn't you? You must have seen something in the journal, something I overlooked! You know what this is for don't you?!"
"If you were so smart, then why don't you figure it out?" Kruger spun around, finding Russel standing there, his dagger already drawn.
"You." Kruger addressed Russel venomously. He then gestured to Coyote and pointed to the Huntsman. "Deal with him."
Coyote headed his employers command, leaving Sky and stalking towards Russel. The already imposing abattoir's grim and gritty visage was amplified by the distorted light shining through from up above. Bathed in shadow and enlightened by light, restricted by nothing and enable by everything, Coyote resembled no man and put demons to shame. He held no weapon, raising only his grisly two dried blood covered hands and closed the distance between himself and the Huntsman with an alarming speed.
Russel met the challenge and thrust his dagger forward. But Coyote was no longer in front of him. As if he'd blinked out of existence before his very eyes, Russel was taken by surprise when he'd struck him from the side, his left side to be exact.
Sent flying by the sheer amount of force behind the punch, Russel crashed through a stack of shelves, causing a domino effect. Forcing old and rotten wood off of himself, he was once more caught unaware as Coyote appeared before him as if out of thin air and continued to brutalize the Huntsman.
"Now, why'll they're busy," Kruger turned his attention back to Sky. "I believe you owe me an explanation."
Sky snorted. "You were a fool to believe that the Sentinel would store such information here. You missed all the tell-tale signs, blinded by your crusade you ignored everything that stared you in the face."
"Then what is this? What am I not seeing?!" Kruger knelt down beside Sky and screamed in his face. "Tell me!"
A light scoff escaped Sky's lips. The Lark simply nodded to the pedestal.
Kruger stood and then delivered a quick kick to Sky's gut, causing the young man to recoil in pain. The good doctor then turned his attention to the pedestal and approached it. He noted the runes that adorned the rock, symbols from another dead language he hadn't bothered to learn.
He peered at the pedestal and its bowl like surface, how it was filled to the brim with water that streamed leaked out and made four separate streams that ran along the floor. That's when he saw it, something sparkling in the water.
Rising, Sky found himself standing and cracked a smile at the sight. "That's what this was all about."
"What is it?" Kruger asked, a sudden swelling of anxiety in his chest as for the first time in a very long time the good doctor was faced with an absolute unknown.
Sky's smile widened. "Why don't you take a look for yourself," he goaded. "Aren't you supposed to be a world class ecologist or something?"
Kruger turned his head and met Sky's eye. He let out a 'hmph' and then placed his hand in the water, reaching in and pulling out the object that had caught his eye. What he removed from the water was a green dust jewel in the shape of a thin letter 'C' and it was absolutely beautiful. The good doctor was hardly in the position to give a date to the object, but given the curvature and his own knowledge of the Sentinel head wager it to be nearly a thousand years old, crafted during the dark ages when man wandered the world of Remnant as nomads.
But then a noise caught Kruger's attention. He quickly spun around, expecting to find Sky attempting to capitalize on the situation, but the Lark remained where he stood, that smile of his still plastered on his face. It was only when he recognized the sound to be the distinctive bubbling did he turn back to the pedestal's bowl.
The water in the bowl was now overflowing. A strange heat radiated from it as the bubbles ran in streams. The ground began to shake and then they heard a loud slam. Kruger's eyes darted back to the coral dome's entrance, back to the shadowy chasm from whence they'd came, and found their exit blocked by a fallen stone.
"Oh come one, Dr. Kruger," Sky couldn't help but laugh. "of course there was going to be another trap. Haven't you ever seen Indiana Jones?"
"You knew?" Kruger raised a disbelieving brow as whatever force that held the water around them at bay finally gave way and the sea outside began to flood.
"The entire time." Sky said before charging forward at the good doctor without fear as he had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
As the very same time, Russel found himself at the end of his rope and Coyote's hand around his throat. Suspended in the air all Russel could do was struggle as the walking slaughterhouse of a man began to apply pressure against his throat.
Any moment now, his neck snap like a twig and that would be the end of him. But Russel had come too far, he'd been through so much and persevered he was not going to let it end now.
So then he produced his pocket knife out from his bracer and began furiously stabbing at Coyote's hand. But the blade just couldn't cut through the man's aura, he couldn't make a dent at all.
But the end would not arrive just yet for Russel Thrush, as the waters gave way and came slamming down upon both men. Caught by the surprise force, Coyote released his hold of Russel and was swept away. The Huntsman, however, was given no reprieve. Air was now suddenly in short supply as he found himself being carried off into the brewing whirlpool.
Sky and Kruger struggled against each other even as the water came down around them. But neither of them cared, hate radiated between them as they fought for control of the Dust Jewel. It could have gone on for as long as it would have taken for the water to fill the dome, but their struggle was cut short as Coyote, carried by a wave of water, struck through the pair and slammed into the pedestal, breaking it from its foundation and being washed away with it.
Kruger, thrown into disarray by the oncoming water, was left open for Sky to make another attempt to snatch the jewel. So then Sky rushed him while shoulder deep in water and seized the jewel. The good doctor cried out and flurry curses before the Lark kicked off of him with aura infused feet, launching him like a bullet through the water and towards Russel while also dooming Kruger to the current of the growing whirlpool.
The good doctor's final words fell on deaf uncaring ears as Sky slammed into Russel, and carried him through the water and out of the dome through the coral's many pores.
It was all a blur for Russel, the salty sea water stung his eyes like crazy and then there was the sheer isolation he felt as he'd been smothered by the ocean itself. But then he could breathe again, he could in the cool Venezier night air as both he and Sky washed up on the beach. But more importantly, Russel could hear again and he could hear waves.
Coughing up water, Russel looked up from the sandy beach, to Sky and then to the ocean. And for the first time since he'd arrived in Venezier, for the first time since the very first coastal settlement, there waves.
The water thrashed about in an indiscriminate fashion. The water that had once been a perfect mirror to the sky above was now in utter ruin, as whatever made it so had been removed.
"What the hell happened?" Russel turned to Sky in search of answers. "It shouldn't be like this."
"This is what happened." Sky said, raising the Dust Jewel for the Thrush to see. "This is the reason I came here."
Russel looked at the jewel, but he did not find remarkable in the slightest. "All of this was for that?" A look of disgust crossed his features. "All of this death and for what? Some fucking trinket?"
"I don't think you understand what this is, Russel. It's a key." He gestured to the jewel.
"And it opens…?"
"Well, I honestly don't know," Sky aimed the jewel to the thrashing sea. "But despite its nature, it had the power to calm the sea, to throw it out of motion with the moon. Do you not understand the power that it wields? Why we had to come take it before it could fall into Kruger's hands. It's not just a key it's a weapon!"
"All I know is there's a lot of dead men and women littering the streets of this town," Russel picked himself off the ground and dusted the sand off his pants. "You understand what it means if we take that thing from this town right?" He looked Sky dead in the eye as the waves cut across the beach and violently slammed into Redhorse's cabin. "It'll kill this town for good."
"You're being dramatic, Russel." Sky waved off the Huntsman's concerns and aimed to shove the jewel in his pocket, only to have his arm caught by Russel's.
"Think for goddamn minute, we're robbing this town of the one thing it had going for them, the only reason anyone would come to this place and without it it'll shrivel up and die!" Russel was screaming now.
"What do you want from me? I can't just leave this behind, not what I went through to get it." Sky frowned.
"That's not what a Huntsman sounds like," Russel glared. "In fact I'd wager you sound a lot like Kruger."
"He stole his work, made a name for himself off the backs of others and killing and maiming whoever got in his way," Sky shot back. "Don't you dare compare me to that disgrace."
"Then show me why I shouldn't." Russel released his grasp of Sky's arm. "We're Huntsmen Sky, we work in service of people, and we don't doom them."
Sky lowered his head, suddenly finding the tips of his water logged boots far more interesting. "How fucked up does the world have to be for you to be the voice of reason, Russel?" He said as the ghost of a smile crossed his features.
"Pretty wretched, isn't it?" Russel snorted as Sky turned to face the ocean.
Sky nodded. "You've made your point." He said before turning to the ocean. He infused his aura into his arm and then gave it a throw, launching the green Dust Jewel far out into the ocean. The moment it came into contact with the sea, the waves calmed and the stillness returned.
Following the action, it was Russel who'd cut into the silence that had fallen over them. "Hey, Sky?"
"Yes?"
"Satisfy my curiosity. But what is the Sentinel's emblem? Why was it carved into that wall?"
"Because it's not The Sentinel's personal emblem, it's a coat of arms." The Lark answered quietly.
"Okay, but who's?"
Sky paused for a brief second then shrugged. "I don't know." He then gestured for the path leading from the beach back into town. "Come on, we'd better see how things have gone in town."
Russel simply stared after Sky, not buying his answer for even a second. "Sure you don't." He mutter under his breath before following under the obliterated moon's glow.
Out from the still water of the ocean, a hulking figure emerged. Coyote stepped out from the water and in his arms he held the pedestal. He ran a hand over the runes and nodded in content with his prize, with Kruger lost he would have to seek payment elsewhere and surely this would fetch quite the sum. Lastly he looked the way that Russel and Sky had gone, but rather than risk further confrontation, he turned and walked off in the opposite direction.
By the time the fighting had stopped, over a hundred dead men and women lay in the streets of Venezier. And yet, it didn't seem so bleak, not when the majority of the fallen wore embroidered letter 'B's.
Well, that's what Russel thought as he made his way through the fresh battleground in approach to a makeshift clinic.
"Redhorse!" Russel called out to the local physician, catching him at the tail end of patching up a Faunus' wound.
"Now remember, don't over exert yourself now, you've done good kid." Redhorse said patting the Faunus on the his back.
"Thank you, Redhorse." The Faunus shot him an appreciative smile before slinking away to a group of awaiting townsfolk.
"Russel!" Redhorse spun around and smiled brightly. "I'm pleased to see that you made it."
"Hmph, yeah I guess I did. But I had in control," The Thrush laughed as another injured townie walked up to be seen. "But, I see I wasn't the only one taking unnecessary risks out there."
"I couldn't just sit on my ass forever waiting for a rookie like you to pull off a miracle." Redhorse smirked and nodded to the liberated town. "And a miracle it was."
"I didn't have much to do with the Faunus, nor did I rally the towns folk, that was all you." Russel shrugged.
"Yeah, but you're the one who stood up to the Blimey Cocks when no else would. So, from not only myself, but also from the rest of the people of Venezier, thank you." He said, extending his hand to Russel.
The Thrush just stared at him for a moment, before finally cracking a smirk and shaking the physician's hand. "Need any help? I'm sure you can use a couple of hands rebuilding the place."
"No, you've done enough for us." Redhorse smiled. "We'll take care of it, this our town, we'll see to it."
"Okay, alright. I should probably get going anyways, it's a long sojourn back to Vale." The Thrush said, turning to leave.
"Hey, Russel." Redhorse called out to the Huntsman, causing him to freeze in place. "I'm proud to call you a Huntsman. Keep up the good work."
"Aw shucks Redhorse, keep sweet talking me like that and I might not want to leave this place." He called out from over his shoulder.
"Oh get out of here already you crazy kid." Redhorse laughed and waved good-bye. "That's kid's a Huntsman." The doctor smiled in approval.
"Sky!" Dove shouted as he ran up to greet the CRDL boy.
"Hey Dove, I-" Sky began to greet his CRDL partner only to be socked across the face for the second time that day. "What was that for?!"
"We were worried sick about you! You didn't leave a message or anything! We thought you were dead dude!"
"Yeah, sorry about that." Sky sheepishly grinned. "Think you guys could forgive me?"
"Eh, I see why not."
"I trust things wrapped up nicely on your end?" Danny asked in a knowing tone.
"I'll explain everything when we get back, but, for the most part, yeah I think things wrapped up for the better."
"Glad to hear."
"So, we have transportation?" Russel asked as he rejoined his team.
The horn of one of the Blimey Cocks jeeps answered. The Huntsman spun around to find Marie-Anne pulling up and coming to a full stop in front of them. "Hey, slow pokes, you coming or what?" Marie-Anne honked the horn again.
"Shotgun." Danny beat the others to the punch.
"You better not play anything stupid on the radio." Dove quipped before following after him.
"The world's fallen into disarray, I'm sure the only thing on air is stupid." Sky remarked before making his case for why he shouldn't sit in the middle. And all the while Russel laughed.
It was going to be a long trip home.
I think I've mentioned before about my own understandings of the mechanisms of aura and their perceived nature in a social environment. The world of Remnant is not filled to the brim with aura users or else there'd be far more people in combat school. Jaune has gone on record to be oblivious to aura so there are people who just don't know about it. Those gifted with aura are capable of inhuman feats and are essentially gods amongst men. So we kind of see in this chapter the idea that anyone with an aura can dwarf a small army, albeit its through surprise and hardly considered an army at all. But I think this just further validates the inherit competitive nature of the Vytal Tournament and the sociopolitical dynamics of Remnant about who can produce the better huntsman and all that jazz. Much to explore later on.
I was a bit torn about how I wanted to end this chapter, you can only imagine the many rewrites. This could've ended on a much downer note with alternatively Redhorse dying and Sky keeping the Dust Jewel and in a sense killing the town. Redhorse has been our only real townie with any impact on the plot and shaped Russel's perspective on the matter, had he been killed off he probably would've been fine with Sky keeping the jewel. But that just didn't sit well with me so I rewrote it. Got to even include a nice farewell at the end, we don't get that often enough.
I know, I know, I shouldn't be including other sources of media nor should I be referencing them. But the entire time I was writing the scene in The Sentinel's Storehouse the opening scene to Raiders of the Lost Ark just kept running in my head. 'So when does the boulder show up'? That kind of stuff.
That's all I've got for notes so far. So, I guess now's as good a time to inform you all what the next arc will be about. Picking up six months later, a little before the start of Volume 4, following Russel and company as they deal with an external threat.
Next Arc: Days Gone Bye
See you then.