I got so little sleep last night. Just a rough night with storms and thunder and my dog alternating between crying at the noise and then getting angry at the noise and barking at it. I struggled so much I decided to watch some documentaries on youtube, which is a rabbit hole not to get swept into as it probably kept me up even longer.
Documentary voices have always been good for putting me to sleep though. I like the sea life ones most of all. Deep oceanic stuff with fish and marine life that might as well look alien because of the lack of light and crushing pressure.
Cover Art: GWBrex
Chapter 38
Ruby watched yet another pair of Chosen rushed past them, their cloaks flying behind them as their steeds charged along the wide dirt road. It was the third such group that day, and further proof that Jaune had gone and done something to catch their attention. The more of them she saw, the more Ruby worried.
The only bring side was that they didn't try and stop their group, and there were few of the Deterrence Corps like there had been before. Maybe they were too busy here, or maybe they didn't dare cause problems with the Chosen within line of sight. The few they saw were on their best behaviour, and the villages they passed through, while no more welcoming than the last, kept to themselves and didn't hurl abuse at them. It was like riding through a town of statues, each of which watched them with nervous faces.
It took a half a day for them to see the thick black smoke in the distance, and Taiyang decided it was too risky to draw close, and brought them to a nearby fishing village who, against all odds, weren't afraid to chat with them. Or at them. It felt more like they were nervously excited and interested by the fire, and that the curiosity outweighed heir usual paranoia for strangers.
"I heard tell it was the Goddess herself smiting the Schnee for their evil," whispered one young woman.
"More likely one of the rebellions," said another. "Mark my words, we'll be blamed for this. We always are."
"I heard it was the Dark Lord," said a young boy, filled with excitement. "Come back to save-"
"Hold your tongue, boy!" snapped an elderly man. "You don't know what you're talking about. It's because of that fiend we're in this situation in the first place. If he's come back, then we're all od us going to burn."
Chatty or not, they rolled through the village as the people stood and watched the smoke in the distance, leaving the fishing boats abandoned. Once they were out of sight, Adam brought their horse to a stop and set it to graze on the nearby grass, lashing the wagon to a tree.
"I don't think it's wise to go any closer."
"We could skirt past it like we're travellers," said Ruby.
"They might requisition us to help the rebuilding effort if we do. Force us into labour and then get a little more handsy once the Chosen are away." He nodded to Blake as a reminder of what had happened before, and Ruby shuddered. Mistral really was a lawless place. "At best, they'll take our horse and wagon to use for their own ends, and then we'll be stuck on foot."
"Do you think it is him?"
"I don't know." Adam nodded to the trees. "Mind scouting it out, Blake?"
The faunus girl drew her hood up and nodded. "Leave it to me."
They set up a small camp in the trees as Blake slipped away into the brush and toward the ruin. Ruby poured water from their collected skins into a pot and set it to boil, while her father foraged for some safe herbs and Adam took care of their horse, brushing it down and untacking it. The sun rose higher, and then began to set, and it was almost two hours later when Blake came back. The pot was bubbling by then, little bits of beef bobbing among some vegetables, herbs, and broth. Ruby shared it out as the girl took a seat and drew her hood down.
"Whatever happened up there was no accident," Blake said. "There are bodies, burnt tents and scorch marks up the side of the keep. A slow, rising fire doesn't cause that kind of damage. This was a flashfire. Something sudden and unexpected. It was definitely intentional."
"Could it be the rebellions we heard about?" asked Taiyang.
"It's possible. I didn't see any signs of it, though. If it were a full-scale attack then there should have been weapons strewn about, and all the bodies were being brought out from inside. It's possible they snuck in and attacked from within but setting such a violent fire would have been dangerous. On the other hand, it could have been a suicidal attack."
"Or it was Jaune," said Ruby.
Blake nodded. "Or that. Magic would be capable of this kind of damage, so it was either him or a rogue huntress. The latter is possible. I could see someone recruited from families living here not appreciating the way their country is run."
"We'll work on the assumption it's him," said Adam. "There hasn't been any news of huntresses on the side of the local rebels. I think they'd have been more successful against the Corps if there were. Question is, why is he involving himself in this? Has the Dark Lord taken over him?"
"The Corps might have captured him," said her father. Ruby nodded quickly. "Might have been his only way to escape, and he stopped pretending once he found out the Chosen were on the way."
"True." Blake nodded. "We know they are looking for him, so they might have waylaid him."
"I guess we'll have to wait and see," said Adam.
"What do you mean?"
"Once is an accident, twice is a pattern. If this is a one-off thing then maybe it was out his control, but if it happens again then I think we need to start asking why. And because he couldn't help it shouldn't be an answer." He set his empty bowl down. "We'll rest here for tonight and head for the nearest town come morning. If they are suspecting rebels, I don't want to be anywhere nearby."
/-/
Mother was angry.
Weiss Schnee kept those thoughts to herself as the messenger, a member of the Deterrence Corps, reported to her mother on his knees. He was bowed and subservient, his hands planted flat and his face to the floor. He did not look at her, not even when he had entered the room; Willow did not like it when they gazed upon her. To do so normally evoked sharp words and the loss of a job, but lately, with how stressed she was, it was a dangerous mistake to make.
"-are searching the area as I speak, Lady Schnee."
"Searching?" asked Willow, in a voice that simmered and bubbled like water brought to boil. Her hand clutched a crystal glass tight, and the wine within it trembled and sloshed about. "Searching implies that the trail has been lost. Are you telling me that the Dark Lord came into your lodge, engaged with you directly, and was allowed to leave?"
The man on the floor sucked in a sharp breath. "It was not my lodge," he said quickly. Failure was punishable by death. In his panic, the man raised his head. "I was not stationed there and am just a messenger-"
"DO NOT LOOK AT ME!" screamed Willow.
The man flinched, snapping his head back down. "My apol-" He cried as the goblet shattered on his skull, knocking him flat.
"SILENCE! I will have your-"
"Mother." Weiss could not remain silent, and she felt Whitley's shock as she spoke up and stepped forward, past the shaking man on the floor, subtly placing herself between him and her enraged mother. "Mother, you are making a scene. He is a loyal messenger and had no hand in this failure." Subtly, she nodded to her brother, who hurried forward to help the man up and escort him out the room. The Corps guards at the door, their eyes on the floor, made no effort to help or impede him.
"A scene?" hissed Willow. "A scene?" Her hands shook, and she tried to bring a glass she no longer held to her lips, only to realise and snarl. She stood, shaking her head and brushing into a nearby room. Weiss followed.
Inside, Willow took and released a deep breath. "I can't stand their eyes," she said. "Their filthy, dirty eyes. Who do they think they are to look upon me? I was chosen by the Goddess. I was selected from among thousands."
Weiss had heard it all before. "I know, mother."
"I am special." said Willow, her eyes wide and her smile wider. Manic. Fanatic. "Of all the Chosen on Remnant, I was deemed the only one worthy to bring these dogs to heel. Me. And I did it. I broke their backs and put them on all fours where they belong. I gave them the honour of serving Salem." She huffed. "They don't deserve it. Traitors, traitors all. They should hang. Every single one of them – men, women, and children. They don't deserve to live for what they did. They don't deserve it!"
"Salem believes otherwise," said Weiss. "Are you questioning her, mother?"
"Don't take that tone with me!" snapped Willow, rounding on her, and stalking forward. Weiss held her ground before her mother's wild eyes. "Do you think I don't hear your sarcasm? Do you think I don't see you and Whitley whispering in the corridors?" A finger drove into Weiss' breastbone, right under her neck. "I was chosen by the Goddess herself. Who are you to question my decisions?"
"I am your daughter."
"Then you, out of everyone, should understand. We are not like them, Weiss." Willow's lips peeled back. "We're nothing like the foul, little heathens who live here. Scum. We're not like the other people either. They are followers of Salem, and they are loyal, but they cannot hope to stand in her presence, nor be trusted with her work. We have a responsibility. A duty. The Goddess has plans for us, and we are her instruments."
The Goddess had never told them to be tyrants, nor had she told them to oppress to this degree. Weiss wanted so badly to say it but knew it would only end up with her slapped. Or worse, she would be punished in a more creative manner. She could still remember one of her mother's first lessons, when she had taken and had a Mistral girl that Weiss had dared to befriend killed by the Corps, just to prove a point that no one from Mistral could be trusted, and that they were no better than animals. Never mind that the men who did it would have been killed themselves had they refused, or that Willow had ordered it.
Willow Schnee had not been a mother for years now. She was a fanatic. Whitley lived in constant fear, less valuable than either of his sisters, and liable to be beaten to death if he dared raise his voice against their mother. After all, Willow's words were the Salem's, or so Willow fervently believed. She could do no wrong because she was an extension of the Goddess, which absolved her of all personal responsibility.
"Your methods are not working, mother. The people are terrified of reporting the Dark Lord because they know you will punish them for harbouring him – even if they are not."
"They fear me."
"They hate you," said Weiss. "They hate us. Even the other Chosen look at us with disgust. I've felt it."
"They're jealous. They want what we have. They want to be where we are."
They weren't jealous; they were horrified. She had seen it in their eyes and felt it in the sharp words and distasteful expressions. They did not push because the Dark Lord was the greater threat, but it had been made very clear that Weiss was not welcome among them. The worst part was Winter, who bore as much responsibility, but who ignored them wholly and acted as though she had no part in this. Her sister, who she once had respected greatly, now acted as if she had nothing to do with any of this. Winter had removed herself from Mistral and seemed content to pretend as if she had no idea what was going on. Out of sight, out of mind.
"It doesn't change the fact that we've alienated the people," said Weiss. "It's not possible that no one has seen him, but the fact is that they will hide him because they despise us. You've actively given him places to hide."
"He will have no such place if we burn them all down."
"Listen to yourself!" hissed Weiss. "The Goddess told you to keep them in line, not to kill them! This is directly against-"
Pain blossomed as Willow's hand cracked against her cheek. Aura on aura made it louder than it had any right to be and caused the blow to hit with an impact not unlike solid metal. Weiss' mind rattled, and her teeth bit into her lip hard enough to draw blood. It tasted coppery and bitter.
"Never," wheezed Willow. "Never question me like that again."
Weiss clenched her teeth.
"I was chosen. My faith is absolute. When I speak, it is the Goddess' words. My word is law. If I say everyone in Mistral dies, then everyone dies – and it will be because the Goddess has decreed it."
It was self-preservation that kept Weiss silent."
"If you think you can do better then go bring him in yourself!" Willow swept her hand at Weiss, then turned away. "Better you be useful than stay here and waste my time with your pathetic complaints."
"Very well. I shall. Do try not to draw the ire of every Mistralian in the country, mother. You are not immortal, no matter how much you think otherwise."
"Hmph. I will live so long as the Goddess wills it. Begone."
Weiss did not bow, nor did she excuse herself formally. She spun on her heel and stalked away, and slammed the door shut as she went. Her mother's guards flinched, and then nodded slowly at her. Not respectful, not really, but less afraid and aware that they could show their thoughts without fearing for their lives.
Whitley was waiting for her nearby, her brother quiet and sullen. "Well?"
"I am going out there myself to find him."
"Mother won't listen, then?"
"When has she ever? She's convinced she is Salem's prophet or some such."
"That's blasphemy."
"Try telling her that," snorted Weiss. "Or don't. I think she might kill you."
"I'm sure she would." Whitley smiled bitterly, and a little hatefully. He was a son, and worse of all a third child, meaning he had little value and no real hopes of inheritance but for her and Winter dying. Despite that, she knew their deaths was the last thing he wanted, as it would mean leaving him alone with their mother. "Be careful out there, Weiss. Mother won't hear it, but the rebellions are getting bolder. This chaos is the perfect opportunity for them to make a move. The Corps Commander knows it and have doubled the guard around the city. Against mother's wishes. Naturally, she does not believe that animals could muster the courage or intelligence necessary to strike back."
"In her mind, the world runs by the Goddess' decree."
"If that were true, we wouldn't be dealing with the Dark Lord at all."
"You're preaching to the converted, Whitley. We Chosen wouldn't be needed if the world was hers to control." Weiss let out a sigh. "Look after yourself while I am gone and do not draw her ire. She isn't stable."
Whitley's voice dropped. "I still say an accident should occur."
"Mind your tongue," hissed Weiss.
"I no longer care to. Winter has abandoned us, and father is a pawn. You could take over, Weiss. You could not possibly do a worse job."
No, she didn't suppose that she could. There were times she'd thought about it, but always been drawn back by the fact that, fanaticism or not, Willow was her mother. This was the woman who gave birth to them. Sentimentality. In all truth, she ought to have taken Whitley's idea a year or more ago, but now it was too late. Willow's death now, in this moment of chaos, would send Mistral spiralling into civil war.
"We will talk on this when I return." Weiss leaned in and gently kissed her brother's cheek. "Please, Whitley. Make sure you survive until I return. I know not what I shall do if I come back to find she has killed you."
"Avenge me."
"That, yes, but I would rather we find a way out of this together."
Her brother smiled wryly. "I'll try my best. May the Goddess watch over you, Weiss."
/-/
Jaune strode out onto the deck in time to see Nora and Ren arguing, and to avoid them and make his way up onto the helm instead. Sun was there, manning the wheel himself as Neptune peered through a looking glass back toward Mistral's coastline. He was looking for something, so Jaune remained quiet and spared no more than a quick nod of greeting to Sun, who grinned back at him and winked.
Once Neptune had found whatever he was looking for, he brought the telescope down, collapsed it and noticed Jaune at last. "Up already? I thought you'd rest a while yet."
"The sun woke me up. What are we looking for?"
"Another lodge. Not, necessarily, to do the same again. Did you have any ideas?"
He'd put thought into it while trying to sleep. An Ren wanted a distraction, and for him to yank the Chosen all over the country and divert resources. He had to be seen, but he didn't necessarily have to fight. "I was thinking I could expose myself with some flashy magic but do it outside the lodge. Close enough for them to see but not react."
Neptune hummed and nodded. "That could work. The danger is that they brush it away or come out in force. Cavalry could run us down. You say you don't want to harm people, but what are your thoughts on causing a little mess?"
"Depends on the kind of mess you're talking about."
"I'd say burn down the lodge without anyone being inside but luring them out would be hard."
"And we'd have no way to know for sure it's empty."
"True. Instead, how about we take the fight to the fields outside?" He tossed Jaune the telescope and pointed. "Take a look. Over there."
Jaune flicked it out and brought it up, magnifying his vision as Neptune waited for him to focus on the distant hill, where another similarly shaped fortress lay. It wasn't identical to the last – this one was a semi-circle placed against a rocky hilltop, whereas the last had been square, but it still had the same wooden walls and single building, with others inside. Yet again, the trees had been cut clear on all sides to create an expanse of ground without decent cover.
"If that ground were wheat or tall grass, I'd suggest setting it alight to send a message," said Neptune, "But they're not stupid. Enemies could sneak up if you let much grow, so the grass is routinely cut and burnt away. Instead, I was thinking you could take a torch to the forest itself."
"Burn a forest down?" Jaune winced. There would be a lot of wildlife and animals in there that really didn't need that kind of thing from him, but at least it wouldn't be killing people. "I mean, I could, but would that do anything? They could say it's a forest fire."
"We could make it clear it is not," whispered Ozma.
Jaune held up a hand to Neptune for silence. "He's talking."
"He?" asked Neptune, then paled. "Oh." He swallowed and looked away, uncomfortable. "Well, what does he say."
Jaune relayed the message. "Ozma says I could set fire to some trees and then launch them at the lodge. They would hit the walls and do a lot of damage. He says we might be able to cause a weather phenomenon as well." He paused and frowned. "If I let him take control to do it."
"The fine control needed to change the course of nature is beyond you at this time," said Ozma. "To summon a thunderstorm on a clear day takes more than just magic; it is the clever mixing of hot and cold air to influence the currents, and much of that is beyond your understanding, let alone your control."
"Let the Dark Lord take control, eh?" Sun whistled. "What's to stop him waging a one-man war on the lodge?"
A good question, and one that Ozma's assurances did little to calm Jaune over. He'd assured him before and lost himself to what he claimed was the madness. What was to say Ozma wouldn't lose his grasp on his sanity this time as well? Jaune didn't like it, but he didn't like the idea of a more direct attack either, and anything he might do in a village to convince people of who he was would inevitably cost those villagers their lives. The Corps would slaughter them to stop the news of him spreading.
"It would send a powerful message," said Neptune. "I've seen the Chosen use their magic, and it's impressive, aye, but to change the weather itself? I could only imagine something like that from the Goddess. No one could deny your involvement. Every village for miles around would know."
/-/
It was a clear day. A good day. The sun shone high in the sky, with nary a cloud in sight. The local villages had been obedient, frightened into compliance by regular visits and on heightened alert against travellers. The Corps had made it clear that any and all blonde male travellers were to be reported to them immediately, or retribution would follow. There had been none, and that was fine by the garrison, who were content to laze about with beer and purloined food, laughing, gambling, and enjoying what was otherwise a paid holiday.
A crack of thunder brought it to a halt.
Faces looked upward, eyes turned toward the heavens as, inexplicably, lightning flashed across a clear sky and thunder rolled out in an echoing boom a second later. Black clouds swirled unnaturally, not rolling in from the coast as was common but circling like water through a hole in an iron pot. It circled and swirled directly above their lodge, with the very epicentre above their heads.
Men stumbled about in panic and voices were raised, crying out in warning. Anything metal was pulled down and stowed away, and those upon the walls hurried for cover as the heavens opened up and rain began to scythe down. The impossible change in the weather was terrifying enough, and some shouted out for the Goddess' protection. It was an automatic, ingrained belief taught from a young age, even if few believed the storm to be anything but a fluke.
Until a horn sounded, and until those on the wall began to point and shout. Boots thudded as Corps took to the palisades with their hands above their heads to shield out the rain. There, in the forests a distance away, red fire glowed as trees took light. It was not a wildfire for the flames did not spread, but more akin to a bonfire, centralised in one spot. Weapons and shields were readied, though spears were kept low out of fear of the lightning above.
"Ready yourselves!" shouted the garrison commander. "This could be the filthy rebels' work. Let them see the price of disobedience. Let them see-"
Lightning flashed down. It arched from above them, a jagged and forked tongue of white light that bit down toward the forest and struck a person there. The light illuminated them, casting a shadow across the trees. A figure, hand raised, catching the lightning but not, against all odds, perishing. The lightning hung in the air as if trapped, as if, for a moment, it would not end or disappear. It was gone a second later, leaving spots in the vision of all who had seen it.
And then the figure pointed at them, and the lightning forked out again, this time arching and crackling across the ground toward them, burning a path of blackened grass across the meadow. Men screamed and ran, and some dove from the walls, not a second before it struck the wood and shattered it like twigs under the hammer of a blacksmith.
Wooden posts flew up into the air, and splinters flew every which way, cutting skin and sending people sprawling. The wall, that had held for so long, burst back and open, giving way under the bolt from the sky. As they watched, the fire from the trees seemed to shrink and slip down those same trunks, then rushed across the grass toward them, breaking into two snakes that curled around the circumference of the lodge. It burned into a circle of fire, a wall of fire, that rose up high enough to obscure vision and leave grown men begging for the protection of the Goddess.
And then it was gone.
The wall of fire fell without touching them; the thunder ended with a distant rumble; the clouds hanging in the sky dispersed, to be chased away by the sunlight. As the towering flames fell, the men inside looked out over a ruined meadow of charred grass, and toward a still and empty forest.
"Goddess preserve us," whispered the garrison commander. "It's true. He's here. The Dark Lord has come again." It was the horrified words in all their minds, and it spread like wildfire. "He's come for us."
Also, watched Helluva Boss new episode. Liked it. Loony's past was pretty much exactly what I expected, but still sweet as fuck to see happen. I continue to laugh in the face of those who said Blitzo x Stolas was a dead pairing after the other episode. Yeah, right. Octavia is great too. I hope we get more of her and her family issues. I honestly thought from the pilot it would be some crack comedy that might be worth a laugh or two but little else, and I'm so happy it's proven me wrong.
Next Chapter: 30th October
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