Well then. Here I am again. Getting back into Chaos is the Prize for a while longer. This is the thing I was talking about in the last chapter of the main story. This is the first chapter of a short story taking place in my CitP universe of RWBY, named Thicker than Blood.

As RWBY show is still very much unfinished, I cannot take anything from Season 9 and beyond into consideration when fitting short stories into a canon-friendly timeline, so I will work with the vague expectation that Team RWBY managed to stop Salem from destroying the world, that there is still Remnant for a new generation of Venatores to squabble and fight over.

You guys know I love quotes and putting them on my chapters, so this time I have chosen to expect upon that a bit. While similar style quotes are still in the chapters, they will be now accompanied by me quoting lyrics of songs either at the start or the end of the chapter. There are many neat lyrics I have collected that will fit in nicely~.

The following story takes place at least 6 years after the fall of Atlas. We will meet many new Venatores and perhaps some familiar ones despite the short length of this short story, though no reader-submitted OCs are currently in the plans.

Chaos is the Prize: Thicker than Blood

Chapter 1

"They shall be pure of heart and strong of body, untainted by doubt and unsullied by self-aggrandisement. They will be bright stars on the firmament of battle, Angels of Death whose shining wings bring swift annihilation to the enemies of Man. So it shall be for a thousand times for a thousand years, unto the very end of eternity and the extinction of mortal flesh."

-Primarch Roboute Guilliman

There are moments in life that come out of nowhere and end up changing everything. Most people dream of such changes being of the positive, brighter sort. But those moments can also be the tragic opposite. Moments of disaster, of horror, of suffering, of loss. Moments one carries for the rest of their life, hoping it all could have been avoided.

For poor, poor Iris Creedy, such a moment came without warning one summer day and unraveled her whole world.

"Have you ever heard of the Man God and the Woman God, sis?"
Iris glanced at her younger brother walking by her side on the forest road. His longish bags of pale blonde hair, same as Iris', half covered his green eyes that were looking up at her much taller sister, waiting for an answer to his sudden question. She allowed herself to ponder the question and search her memory for scores of steps on the dirt road before finally responding to Clayve.

"No, can't say I have," Iris answered. The terms Man and Woman God were somewhat vague, so there was little to narrow down in those mythologies and stories that she was familiar with "Where did you hear about them?"

"The merchants talked about them. The ones that left the village yesterday." Clayve continued. "Said some people used to believe in them around the southern shores of the continent. They said that the legend goes there is like, you know, only two gods, one man and one woman. And they are like primo- something, like all men and women of the world are made in their image."

"A common trope among imaginary deities," Iris commented.

"Well, the merchants said that when we grow older, we fall in love with the god of the opposite gender, and that is like why we find people attractive because they remind us of the man or woman god." Clayve paused as something captured his attention. He jumped to the side of the road and picked up a large branch from the ground. Satisfied with the awesomeness of the big mighty branch, Iris' kid brother moved back to walk by her side before continuing.

"But if we keep loving only the images of the gods, we will never find true love, like life partners, because the only one we would care about is the god. And they are gods, so we can never meet them or marry them, which would lead to a sad life. The way we are supposed to live according to what I heard is that we must learn to fall in love with the person we marry, to love them as who they are rather than as the god who they remind us of."

"A fine life lesson, as these types of stories usually are," Iris replied.

"What about the salt god? Have you heard about him?" Clayve said, moving on to a different unfamiliar deity.

"There is a myth about a god of salt?" Iris asked with faint amusement.

"Guess so. No idea where they worship or used to worship him, but the story goes that the salt god and his realm exist at the edge of the world. There at the world's end the sea is said to give into salt, a sea of salt that reaches onto eternity and nothingness. It is from brushing against that salt that causes the oceans to become so full of salt."
"Sounds like a story someone came up with to explain why the sea water is salty. INteresting story to rationalize something found peculiar. But they are only stories, the salt god and the man and woman gods. There are no gods in this world, they don't exist."

"But what if there are?" Clayve asked.

"There are none."

"But what if there are? What if you are wrong?"

"Clayve, listen," Iris said with a small exasperation. "There are no such things as gods. They are all figments of imagination, stories and beings made up by people over history. Some people like to believe in such beings, but hear me when I say that nowhere on Remnant has anyone been able to prove their existence, much less spread the knowledge of them to the rest of the world. You can ask dad when we get home and he will tell you the same thing."

"What if there are gods, but no one has just found them yet?" Clayve asked. "What if they are hiding? Maybe they exist and we have not just searched hard enough."

"Well if you someday grow up and wonder about the world beyond Anima far and wide, let me know if you stumble upon any gods," Iris said with a light-hearted smile."

"Maybe I will," Clayve replied quickly before running off again after spotting another branch on the ground, one even more powerful than the first dreaded twig of might.

It did not take long till they were greeted by the welcoming sight of the final rays of the setting sun painted the gates of their small village.

The next morning Iris woke up very early. She grabbed her trusty old shoulder bag and heaved it over her head. The bag was empty but for some water and rations, for Iris intended to have something filling it before she would return in the afternoon. She slipped the strap of one of dad's hunting rifles over her other shoulder after making sure the weapon was in ready condition. Where she was going was far, far from the village by the mountains, and best case scenario she would run into some prey to bring home for supper. The worst-case scenario was that she would have to use it to defend against Creatures of Grimm.

Iris was a solid hunter of animals like dad, and her Aura levels were decent even if not even half of the requirements to consider a career as a huntress, but taking on Grimm was not something she would look forward to. Whenever she ventured far from the village, she was sure to keep arms on her, as her father had instructed since she was 14. They had a professional huntsman in the village, but out in the wilderness, she had to look out for herself.

As she fastened the straps of her sturdy all-terrain boots, she heard a sound behind her. She turned to look, seeing Clayve brush sleepily his eyes.

"Did I wake you up?" Iris asked.

"Kinda. Had trouble sleeping." Clayve looked at the bag and the rifle. "Are you going to the mountains again? To that cave you found?"

"Yes, I am. Thought it's not a "cave", it's clearly man-made. I am hoping to make a bit more inside the collapsed parts again. Bring home some stuff to show to the merchants again."

"I heard them talking they would make an extra visit to the village this month if you find anything remotely similar to the stuff you found last time."

"Indeed, they seemed really interested in even those two gadgets I got for them to see last month. Paid good money. Hopefully, I can bring home just as or more valuable stuff this time." Iris finished with her boots. She pulled out a pair of gloves and slipped them in her hands as she stood up, turning to face her brother.

"Are you able to carry it all?"

"I can carry plenty."

"Can I come with you this time?" Clayve asked, his tone making it clear he had been itching to ask all this time. It was probably the reason he had gotten up so early.

"No can do bro," Iris shot him down immediately. "It's really far, and the way is difficult to travel. I need to look out for myself."

"I am not a kid anymore!" Clayve replied with a miffed tone.

"Yet you are far from an adult still. You know what mom and dad would say," Iris sighed. She thought about saying something more, but instead decided to open the door. "I will show you the place when you are older. When you are old and strong enough to help me carry home the buried treasures."

"How long till I am old enough?"

"About 2000 days."

Clayve frowned, tilted his head down and started pondering how much that was in years. Iris used the moment of distraction to slip outside. "Stay safe!" she heard Clayve shout behind her as she closed the door.

She jogged through the Natsuhashi village she had been born and raised in. She was early on the move, many of the villagers were still sleeping. She passed the gatehouse where the village's resident huntsman, Vine, was groggily sitting by a small fire, cooking himself breakfast by rotating something. The almost middle-aged man was probably the earliest bird awake every morning, Iris had never found him away from his post in the morning unless he had business somewhere.

Iris walked through the gate, giving Vine a friendly wave, receiving one back as usual. Then she was past the gate, and the only thing ahead of her was a long trek on foot along the dirt road before she got even close to the mountains looming in the distance. She put one foot before another and was on her way.

Nothing could have forewarned her about what was to come.

A long while had passed when Iris sat down to take a break. She could have easily made the whole way to the mountains without taking a break, as her limited Aura gave her some extra stamina, but she found it more pleasant to take a drinking break for 5 minutes occasionally.

The place she chose as the scenery of her break was a nice wood-shaded spot between the road and a small cliff watching over a river. The river followed the road only for a small while, so if a thirsty traveler wanted to replenish their water reserves they would do it near that spot. There were a few large trees that had been cut down, their trunks and stumps providing natural seats for anyone wishing to rest their feet.

Iris sat down on one of the larger trunks, fishing out her water bottle from her bag. She took a long sip from the metal and plastic bottle as she watched the water streaming below the few mater cliff. After gulping down the water she gave in to the temptation and picked up a honey cookie from a small pouch she had prepared as a trail snack. She gulped down the sweet treat but withheld her desire to grab another from the dozen in the pouch. She would enjoy them when it was time to eat the other rations she was packing.

The wind blew nicely through the opening in the woods, nice on the skin yet not cold enough to bother. Iris closed her eyes for a second before opening them again and glancing at the clouds above. She frowned a bit as she spotted a darker patch in the sky, wishing a pour would not surprise her later that day when on top of the road.

It was at that moment she got a feeling like the winds were being disturbed by something, as if the atmosphere of the forest suddenly changed. If she had been stronger with Aura, her senses may have been sharper enough to recognize danger in the air.

"Good morning,'' a voice came from the direction of the road to Iris' left. She was surprised but not quite spooked by the sudden voice, as she had heard no footsteps treading the road due to the hiss of the wind and leaves. She turned her head and upper body a bit to the direction of the voice, lowering her water bottle to rest by her side.

There was a young man standing on the grass on her side of the road, about ten meters from her. He was clad in a dim black undersuit peeking from under a dark red poncho-style cloth covering his upper body. He had an almost completely shaven head, leaving only a very short stripe of blond hair running from his forehead to the back of his skull. He looked to be in his late teens, around the same age as Iris. He had crimson eyes sitting deeply in his skull that instantly gave Iris a nervous feeling as she locked eyes.

"Good morning to you as well…" Iris responded politely. It was then that she noticed the boy was not alone. Spread out evenly on both her flanks by the cliff stood 3, no, 4 other boys, a couple by the road, the others nearer to the cliff. All of them were similarly dressed. And all 4 of them were carrying guns across their chest.

Bandits? Iris thought the worst as she felt a jolt in her spine. They certainly looked the part. She lifted herself up to stand. "Who might you folk be?" Iris asked with drastically more caution. The armed boys stood their ground, for they had already pretty much encircled her.

The lad who had called out to her opened his mouth. "I am known as Burgundius. Burgundius the Blessed, if honoring myself with a title I am known by." The boy spread out his hand to motion to his comrades. "And alongside my brothers here we are the Warband of the Holy Crusaders…"

Iris was a bit taken back. If she had expected identification, it was certainly not anywhere near what she had received. "Holy Crusaders?" She would have added some light-hearted jest to her tone had she not been so tense. "What crusade might that be?"

"Why, the only crusade worth existing of course. The endless mission in service of the Primordial Truth and the true Gods of the universe. But such things are frankly beyond an unremarkable creature such as you."

Iris could not wrap her head around what she had just heard, so she decided the best course of action was just to move on. "Well… is there anything I can help you… crusaders with? I can't help but to notice you have kinda encircled me… while heavily armed…" She glanced around the other 4 again. She did not like the unwelcoming expression of their faces. The guns they were golding were all of the same model, perhaps some sort of magazine-loaded high-power shotguns if she knew anything about weapons.

"On the Path to Glory, weapons are our holy instruments." the boy who named himself Burgundius said with a faint smile that disturbed Iris to her core. "As for how you might help us, I thought that I would ask you for directions. We are looking for a village called Natsuhashi. Might you know if we are on the right road?"

"Yeah, it is my home village. You are not far…" Iris swallowed. "Might I ask what is your purpose for visiting my village?"

"The word is that you guys have made an interesting discovery lately. Stumbled across something from an older age. We are here to see how accurate those rumors are."

The mountain ruins, Iris made a connection that was a strong possibility. Where she had been heading coincidentally. The word sure traveled fast along merchants.

"Might you be willing to accompany us and show us the way?" Burgundius asked her.

Iris gave one last look around. She took a step backward. "And if I refuse? I have a prior engagement."

"If you are not willing to show me the way, then I have no more use for you."

Those words made her make her decision. Iris spun and leaped. She dived for the edge of the cliff and the only safe escape offered by the fall and the river. As soon as she moved a gun barked, and she felt a faint sting as something ripped a faint trail of Aura from around her bicep. Fortunately, the shotguns seemed to be firing single solid slug ammunition rather than a spread, otherwise, Iris might have not avoided the brunt of the deadly shot by hair's breadth. She wondered how many if any shots her lacking Aura could take, and she was not eager to find out.

She crashed into the water's surface a moment later thanks to the short distance of the fall. The power of the stream was not that strong but it, fortunately, was strong enough to pull her along at a decent speed, allowing her to quickly swim downstream where she could make her escape as the river stopped following the road. She stayed under the surface of the water for a short while, fearing they might shoot at her again if she surfaced too soon.

The water gushed in her ears, her heart was pumping like crazy, and the adrenaline was flooding her whole body. She could have died. She could have just died. Only when she felt a burning in her lungs did she dare to resurface. She instantly glanced upstream, but she was way out of sight of the cliff she had thrown herself off of.

Iris took a deep breath and changed her swimming from a panicked flailing into purposeful movement. She swam to the edge of the river and found a spot to get back up the shore despite the challenging climb of some steep rocky terrain. She tried to calm her breathing and listened. She could hear no sounds of pursuit, not that she had expected bandits or whomever they were to bother with one girl. But by heaven and earth, those guys had been a vicious bunch. They had not even attempted to rob her, and the moment she made a move to flee they had no qualms about opening fire at her. Whoever they were, they were some crazy killers, and she hoped she never encountered them again.

Encountered them again…

That was the moment she recalled the words the leader, Burgundius, had said. About the purpose they had in being in this remote part of the world. They were searching for a village. Her village.

That was all the motivation Iris needed to shoot up on her feet. She felt exhausted, and one of her legs seemed almost sprained, but she forced herself to move. She was out of food and water since her bag had been left behind, and the road back was long. She did not have any Aura remaining, so the trek she might have previously made in a couple of hours would probably take much more, especially if she ran out of stamina and had to stop to rest.

Nevertheless, she pushed herself to search for the road, and once she found it, she started following the way back home. She didn't believe in any deities, spirits or energies of good, but at that moment she felt she would have prayed despite never before doing so. She would have prayed that the old huntsman of the gates could protect the village. She would have prayed that she could somehow make it back and warn everybody. She would have prayed for the safety of her parents, brother and sisters.

The first sign of things gone wrong was the unnatural dark smoke in the sky. The sight drove away all the warmth from her heart, leaving it cold. It took her a few moments longer to reach the gates, her aching muscles still letting her move. She could see the black smoke coming from beyond the gates, as well as some light illuminating it that spoke of a large open fire.

That was when she saw the first corpse.

The body of old Vine was leaning against a wall of the gate. His weapons were discarded some distance away on the road. And his head was gone from the neck up, splattered against the wall behind him a terrifying sight of blood, bone shards and brain matter.

Iris stood there like nailed to the ground. She felt sick, and the next moment she was emptying the contents of her stomach on the road. She spat away the last spittle and vomit, and then weakly made herself move forward almost in a cowering posture. She whispered out names of her family unintentionally as she passed the gate, trying to not spare another glance at the corpse of Vine.

What awaited her at the central courtyard near the gates was the most terrible sight she had ever seen; a sight of such carnage that would haunt her nightmares for years to come.

In the light of a few nearby buildings that were on medium levels of flames, she saw countless corpses. A few body parts lay mutilated on the ground. A pile of a handful of charred corpses was smoldering on her right. And nailed to the walls of the buildings, not on fire were the rest of the villagers. Including her parents that looked at the courtyard with dead gazes of anguish.

Iris could feel her legs give in. She collapsed into a heap on the ground and could do nothing but gasp for air. "Burdundius…" she let out insane levels of sorrow and took over mind and tears started flowing. "Burgundius!"

The corpses were crucified in pairs over one another, their splayed limbs forming a grotesque eightfold symbols that were repeated dozens of times all around her. At the center of the courtyard eight mutilated corpses had been dragged together to form another eight-pointed formation, almost as if in some sort of inhuman and savage ritual. As Iris took in the horror, she recognized one corpse after another, people she had known by name. On the next house over from her parents were her neighbors. Crucified on the other side of the yard were her two younger sisters. Those who had made this slaughter had paired dead children together, making their eightfold forms smaller than those of the adults.

The sight was unbearable. Iris could do nothing but lay on the ground and close her eyes and open them to the horror again and again. Rain started pouring after a while, putting out the fires eventually. It drenched her completely, causing cold shivers as the day started to turn into a night for a girl whose whole life lay destroyed right before her eyes.

It had taken 3 days to bury all the corpses. Iris could never have managed to do it on her own if she had dug individual graves, so she made do with a single mass grave. The village had been looted somewhat but there was still plenty of food to go around so she did not go hungry at all.

The first thing she had done was take down the people nailed to the walls. The sight had been simply too much to bear. She had taken her parents among the first corpses. She could not bear to touch her dead sisters until at the tail end of moving the bodies. In the process she was keeping a list of everyone while moving them, taking a count of who was among the corpses, even if it was clear the whole village was pretty much there. In that counting process, she however made a note that some people were missing. More specifically all the pre-teen boys that the villages had possessed half a dozen. She made sure to double-check when she realized this, even making sure the burned corpses were all adults.

There was no mistake. All the young boys were not among the dead. Including her younger brother.

A day after she had finished filling up the mass grave and putting up a kind of memorial that explained what had happened, she found herself at a loss of purpose. She had no idea what to do now that the obvious immediate task was over. Her mind was still in horrible shock, and she could barely do anything more than eat and stare into nothingness at the center courtyard of the now uninhabited village.

She knew that sooner or later she would have to start taking steps and thinking about what to do next. She could not however make herself do it and pushed it into the far future. She felt like she would do nothing but think and relive the moments over and over again over the foreseeable days.

As fate would have it, an outside force was one that would break her from her state of nothingness. 5 days after the last burial, someone arrived to the village.

Iris was handled on the front porch of a house without an owner when she spotted someone walking into the courtyard. The ground was still damp with some blood that the rain had not been able to wash away. Cloth-wrapped Iris observed with a passive gaze as an unfamiliar boy in his late teens took in the courtyard. In a moment that followed, the boy's gaze found her. He approached Iris who was giving him no reaction.

"Do you live here?" The boy asked. He had short dark brown hair and striking eyes of gold. He was tall and clearly a bit muscular. He was clad in dark green trousers and a white coat or maybe more like a vest, with gray slabs of leathery armor strapped to his body. A symbol was painted on his chest by hand, a head of a wolf against a crescent moon, and a bright serpentine eye. On his hips, he carried what looked like a sword. He looked like a huntsman.

"I used to…" Iris let out. It had been days since she had uttered a word, those being the name of her loved ones… and the name of the man she knew to be responsible.

"Might I inquire what happened here? It does not look like there are many people here… and there has clearly been bloodshed."

Iris lifted her tired eyes to lock eyes with those gleaming golden eyes. "Yes… there was. What interest is that to you? Who are you?"

The boy looked like he attempted to smile, but he was not very good at it. "I am Kenyon Mournival of the 16th Legion. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Atrocities like never seen before
Innocence burns, children ripped from parent's arms
Separation from this world
Mankind reduced to feed the worms."

-From Grace We've Fallen by Hatebreed

Chaos is the Prize that took many years of my life to craft. In some ways, it is still living strong in my head. I cannot help but to imagine new Venatores and stories for them to partake in. You could say that this short story is me coping to let go, giving some last touches to my beloved work of writing. I currently have a draft for only this one short story, which I will conclude no matter what in the coming months, even if it does not get much traffic or reviews (it most likely will not get much better attention than the original CitP, and that story always had a pretty modest audience). Thicker than Blood should be around 7 chapters long according to my designs. After that, I will probably start thinking about other writing possibilities again.

As you can see, the central character this time is not a Venatore at all, and not even an Aura user of any significance. Iris is here to provide us with some fresh perspectives, as Venatores getting involved with outsiders provides some interesting possibilities.

I hope you found the start of this story interesting. Have a nice day.