Heir to the Crown
Chapter One
89 AC(After Conflict)
Evernight Castle, Grimm Lands
There is an unspoken directive for the few sentient beings employed by the ruler of the Grimm Lands.
Do not enter the dungeons under any circumstances.
Those foolish enough to push this directive would find themselves walking amongst the Grim. Only one has consistently tested the Queen's patience, but he has the luxury of being the sole remaining heir to her kingdom.
Logan Altavian, first of his name and the only surviving child to the Queen of the Grimm lands and current monarch to the ancient kingdom of Altavia.
He is the Heir to the Crown.
His Mother constantly warns her curious son to avoid the dungeon and its prisoners, but Logan finds a welcome change of environment in those murky corridors.
There was a woman who seemed to be the only person on the planet who could stand being in Logan's presence without trembling.
Granted, his Mother's inner circle, including the sociopath Tyrian and the sycophant Arthur Watts, were among the few who kept their witts. However, conversing with them was a chore and almost useless at this point in time.
Watts holds himself in high regard, and he seemingly finds a way to congratulate himself after every lengthy conversation with another sentient being. Tyrian was little better, he practically worships the ground Logan and his Mother walk on no matter the circumstance.
The fool would willingly sacrifice every limb on his body and commit suicide on his Mother's orders. Any concept of preservation was lost on the Faunus, and to say that Logan found him revolting would be an understatement.
He loathed Tyrian and Watts equally, and every day he regrets that Cinder or Hazel were consistently preoccupied with other tasks so to speak.
Maybe Logan wouldn't constantly visit the dungeons if they spent more time in the Grimm Lands.
The spiraling staircase that led to the darkest reaches of Evernight Castle rarely received visitors. The responsibility of delivering basic sustenance to the dungeon's lone occupant was left to a select number of the castle's servants, who were always accompanied by a pack of vicious Hounds.
Logan has no need for an escort of such magnitude because he is often accompanied by a manticore called Axios. Logan engineered the Grimm to such an extent that his cousins could not hope to match his ferocity.
Axios bristled with tension next to Logan as they approached their prisoner. The manticore had no love for the woman on account of her silver eyes, but he bit down his apprehension with a snarl of fury.
The blindfolded woman's ears perked at Axios's growl, raising her head high enough for Logan to gaze into. The manticore always accompanied his constant visits, and she had grown accustomed to hearing his familiar rumbles.
"Logan?" The Altavian heir approached the cell, crossing his arms and leaning against its steel bars. "What are you doing down here?"
"Came to see you." He replied, eyes scanning her black expression. "Might be the last time you get a visitor for a long while."
"Assuming your mother doesn't turn me into a hound." Logan hadn't meant to bring up such a foreboding topic, but his….friends fate was bleak. The Queen was running out of silver-eyed prisoners to turn into her favorite Grimm, and sooner or later, her time would be up.
The only reason she hadn't been turned into a Grimm was because Logan persuaded his Mother.
His departure would be the final obstacle in turning Ozpin's favorite pupil into his worst nightmare.
"Assuming." He pursed his lips, unable to think of a proper response and not wanting to end their talk on a negative note.
"Where are you going?" She asked with a tinge of worry, whether that was born out of his concern or hers he did not know.
"I don't think I should tell you that." Divulging plans to those who need not know often led to loose lips, but Logan's reply earned a hearty laugh of amusement.
"Do you remember our first conversation?" The silver-eyed woman asked.
"You asked me to break you out." When she first heard his voice, desperation clung to her like a shroud when he first met her. She should have known a child anywhere near the Grimm Lands was cause for concern, but false hope was a dangerous thing, and on that night, she knew her fate was sealed.
"Yes." The raven-haired woman returned a forlorn smile. "And what did you tell me."
He would forget the words that fell from his lips, and neither would she for the rest of her natural life. After a few silent moments of remembrance, Logan responded to her inquiry with closed eyes.
"…Where would you go?" The answer had shocked himself and the silver-eyed woman at the time.
It was direct but truthful in every sense of the imagination, Grimm and his Mother had physically broken the silver-eyed woman, and she would never have gotten more than two steps up the stairs before the Hounds tore into her.
"God, you were the biggest asshole in the world to me that night." Logan didn't mean to be, but he never considered himself a liar.
"You needed a dose of reality that night since then; you've stopped earning my mother's attention with your constant defiance." The woman made their attendant's lives a living hell, assaulting them when they came to bring her food and attempting to escape at every opportunity.
Logan's visits calmed her wrath, not because she felt an instant connection with him, but because he shattered any illusions she had built up in her head with just a few words. His honesty and tender age reminded her so much of her children, and she cherished every conversation she had with the Grimm Heir in hopes of never forgetting those she left behind.
That would change in the coming days.
"Perhaps." She lifted her head towards Logan. "But I ask you this now. If you were to tell me where you are going, who would else would I talk to? The Grimm? The servants? Not a single one of them would listen to what I had to say."
"It's not who you will tell that concerns me," Logan replied abruptly, turning his back on the woman. "It's what you will say to me if I do."
She thought long and hard before the answer seemingly emerged to the front of her mind. There were many things out there that the silver-eyed woman would take issue with, and one of the primary points were going after her family.
But that wasn't his destination. It was the next best thing on the list that she cherished above all else.
"….Beacon. You're going to Beacon." The word tasted like ash in her mouth. "To conquer it?"
"No." Logan glanced out the corner of his vision, his crimson eyes boring into her blindfold. "My mother believes that if I am to lead my kingdom, then I must understand what it means to be one of Remnants treasured few."
The emotions played out on her visage until the finality of his words settled upon her.
"You mean to become a Huntsman?" The pain in her voice was palpable as a million thoughts rang in her ailing mind. Her children would be sixteen and eighteen years of age by now, and if Ozpin had his way, her oldest would be in her second year of Beacon.
There wasn't a doubt in her mind that her little firecracker would become a huntress; she had too much of her Mother in her after all.
"I mean to understand why so few chose to sacrifice everything for people that have proven to be anything but decent." The raven-haired woman bit her tongue at his callous dismissal of Humanity and Faunus alike.
Their arguments over the direction of Remnant were few but often visceral in nature. Logan's received a direct and informed education of the four Kingdoms that ruled over his birthright.
Atlas is a kingdom masquerading as a democracy, but in reality, it is a state governed by the wills of its Elite class. Thousands are forced to work in brutalizing work camps, all for the profits of corporations.
Vacuo is led by weak-willed fools, whose only political power is derived from its huntsmen's sacrifice. Criminal organizations run rampant, and bandit clans terrorize the desert, preying on the less fortunate and the desperate alike.
Mistral is a land rife with corruption, its leading council pawns off outlying settlements for the Branwen tribes to freely raid without repercussions. Its artistic culture is little more than a consuming shadow, hiding the powerful syndicates that auction off humans and faunus like cattle.
Vale is a state without an identity, easily influenced by the cultures of foreign kingdoms. A council leads them much like the rest of Remnant, but in reality, Vale and its rivals are secretly overseen by a man basking in the white tower that looms over the city.
Ozpin, a relic from a bygone past who has fought the Queen tooth and nail in a desperate attempt to save his own influence and life.
He is the very same man that tosses away his staunchest supporters in a desperate bid to save humanity's so-called free will on the altar of sacrifice.
And one of his victims laid before him, broken and discarded like a toy.
It was a shame she continued to place faith in a man who no longer remembered her.
"My children." Her voice was low as she began. "They will become huntsmen and follow in their mother's footsteps to Beacon."
"You never told me their names." Logan never inquired into her sires, and it didn't feel necessary or proper to bring up such a sensitive topic without provocation.
She struggled to speak her children's names. Years of mental collapse and torture ensured that even her most cherished memories were hazy and damn near unrecognizable. It took the woman a great deal of effort to produce the names of her daughters.
"Yang….and Ruby." She replied with a somber tone. "What will become of them?"
"Their fate will mirror yours, Summer." A chill ran down his spine as a pale hand clasped his outer shoulder. "I have been looking for you my, son. I should have known you would have come down here for your….riveting conversations with this shadow."
Logan quickly fell back onto his lessons, falling to a knee and bowing his head towards the Queen of all sentient life upon Remnant.
Salem, the Mother of all Grimm and the ruling monarch to the Kingdom of Altavia.
"I apologize, mother," Logan replied with earnest. "I merely wished to say my goodbyes before I depart for Beacon."
Salem laughed, a sound that was both astonishingly natural and profoundly inhuman, as she stared at her heir with a bemused glint in her gaze.
"No apology is necessary, my child." A pale finger snaked under his chin, forcing his crimson eyes to bore into his Mother's. "For we both know you do not mean it."
A nail dug deeply into his jaw before she let his chin go. "I'm certain she would be happy to know that her children were responsible for Cinder's latest failure."
The Battle for Beacon ended in complete failure.
Cinder's attack upon the Vytal festival with hordes of Grimm and her gathered allies resulted in nothing but wasted time and resources.
The Ivory Tower still shined for all of Vale to see, and the relic inside remained firmly in Ozpin's grasp.
The only consolation was that Cinder was able to acquire the fall maiden's full power, but she remained comatose inside Evernight Castle. Her attendants Emerald and Mercury remained by her side at all times, anticipating her eventual awakening.
Until then, Salem was content to send her precious Heir into Ozpin's backyard and learn from the best that Remnant had to offer. Logan would use the skills earned from Beacon's education and turn it against her greatest foe.
All Logan needed was time and opportunity.
"You won't win." His companion spat out. "Ozpin will stop you, again and again, and again. It doesn't matter what or who you throw at him."
The latter was delivered with such venom and assurance, but Salem simply chuckled at her folly. Logan kept his head low and eyes closed as his Mother melted through the steel bars, placing two hands beneath the woman's sunken cheeks.
He knew what came next.
"Oh child," Salem cooed in the silver-eyed woman's face, mocking her ignorance and misplaced defiance. "You need not worry about whether or not Ozpin will succeed. For you will have a front-row seat to the ending."
The Grimm Hybrid flinched as Salem sank her fingers into the woman's forehead, her black magic and dark essence overwhelming that which was once human. A terrible scream rang through the castle for all to hear, and Logan forced himself to look away from the horror.
Bone cracked, muscles lengthened, and darkness completely overtook the silver-eyed woman until there was nothing left but a Hound bound by straining iron. Salem appraised her work with a critical eye before a smile crossed her pale features.
The Queen ran her hand along the Grimm's muzzle earning a guttural hum of approval at odds with the woman she once was.
Satisfied with her newest Hounds loyalty Salem turned on her heel and brushed past Logan, only sparing him a curt nod to follow.
The Hybrid followed after her, but as he reached the stairs, he glanced back at what was left of the woman with who he had spent years of his life conversing with.
None of this felt just, but Logan was taught that the ends justify the means, and if Remnant was to be led into the future unbowed and unbroken, sacrifices had to be made.
Logan had to believe that Summer Rose's death was not in vain.
"Goodbye, Summer."
He spared his deceased companion a final glance, silently agreeing to her unspoken request to protect her children from the coming war.
But for now, his duties came first.
It was time to enter Beacon.
This could be a mainline story for me to focus on alongside Semper Vigiles because I am fascinated by this idea of Salem having an Heir to the Grimm.
I hope you enjoyed this teaser, and remember to review to your heart's content every little bit helps my motivation.
Next Chapter: Not really sure but the earliest may be October 18th.