AN: Hi, it's been a while. Enjoy the story and I hope to hear your suggestions/feedback. More AN at the end of the chapter.
Shooting onto my feet, a saw cleaver rips into existence and quicksilver pellets stare down the barrel of my blunderbuss. Qrow slowly gets to his feet and dusts himself.
Meanwhile, the new figure stands firm with their blood-red sword in both hands.
"I should slit your throat where you stand," The voice growls bitterly.
"Can I not visit, Raven?" Qrow asks as he swings his flask around. "Do you know how hard it is to get an airship to this part of Mistral? It takes a freakin Vytal Festival, that's how hard."
"After twenty one years? I doubt you're here just to visit," Raven scoffs. Her red eyes snap to my direction. "State your business or begone."
I could only answer with silence. We were supposed to infiltrate the area and escape, not be found out before our mission could even begin.
I glance over to Qrow, shooting him a look of shock and annoyance. He didn't have a good answer.
Ugh, ok, it's up to me. What did people here value? What would be a good reason for a man and woman to infiltrate a castle that may or may not have a history with one of them? What could possibly transcend a familial conflict?
I didn't get to think before my lips spit out an answer.
"We're getting married!" What? The thought of being betrothed to that shell of a man disgusts me. Just a week ago, Qrow smuggled some alcohol inside Beacon and sold it to a team for some materials. I only found out because an entire dorm room was destroyed and Glynda got to use her whip for punishment, finally.
Qrow softly throws his hands in the air. "I seek the elders' blessing," Qrow says seamlessly. "I'm getting married."
Even I could believe the weight of the lie coming from Qrow's lips, and yet, a hint of sadness pokes from his last syllable.
Raven reluctantly sighs and sheaths her weapon. "Follow me. We'll have a word behind closed doors."
Soon enough, the gates of the castle open and Raven leads us through the fields where dozens of men and women refine their skills. The scent of dust and strong blood hangs in the air and shines on the equipment of the troops. A flight of stone stairs ascends onto a platform of pillars, beautifully painted walls, and decorative paper doors. Bland barracks dig into the lower parts of the platform and the triangular prism of buildings becomes more beautiful until it reaches its peak. An insignia of a bird spreading its wings lies on the topmost building for all to see.
The countless halls and doors of the main building rattle my mind. A large library holding about fifty people hustle to and fro between the pages of their reading. The sounds of falling marble and the scent of paint come and go between the hallways. We make our sixth, I think, turn and pass our thirtieth person through the wide hallway going deeper into the castle.
It is a good thing that this place is only mortally confusing.
"Raven?" I ask.
"It is Lord Branwen to you. What is it?"
Pride pours from her words and body posture. Perfect, I could use this.
"This place's architecture and usage of color is fascinating. Your people are cultured and strive to take flight through their triumphs. Tempered and disciplined blood pursue the arts back here while the raw and weak train out there, do they not? This… castle stands on solid ground and stands with its colors expressing itself for all to see. Triangular in nature, the castle resembles a speartip or an arrowhead. The insignia is representative of this, is it not?" I say, catching the attention of the woman.
Raven's steps become a little lighter. "It is an arrowhead," she begins. "For the bow requires strength to fire and accuracy to be effective. Guided, nurtured strength is our goal." And just like that, I hook her in. "Mistral prides itself in strength, wherever it may come from, and I have not built a castle. I have built a palace with the resources we've gained over the years. We are the true protectors of Mistral and the rest of Mistral will see that." The woman's voice swells with pride before she reigns in her emotions.
We cross into a wide room with pillows, tables, and incense. She hums with a slight bit of approval. "It's a pleasure to find a foreigner appreciative of design for once," Raven says.
"The pleasure is all mine."
Raven hums once again, done with the pleasantries. "You should not have returned, Qrow."
I didn't get to say anything before Raven rips a hole in time and space and hops through. What was that supposed to mean?
"Marriage? Was that the best you could come up with?" Qrow says.
"I didn't see you come up with any good answers either!"
Qrow massages circles into his head. "Right, right. Well either way, we're stuck. Just my luck that Raven would be here…"
With Raven here, the mission was over before it began, but maybe we could salvage this. What could we even do though? It would be hard to investigate this place while under constant supervision.
"Lay low and investigate. I need a drink."
The sun shines brightly in the sky. Roars and cheers fly as drinks and food spill. Crowds gather and cry in disappointment or scream in excitement. Multi-colored sheets of paper swap between hands. Emotions swell as blood tempers and it is delicious. The sights, the sounds, the fierce gaze of hundreds of eyes, and the prey ahead scratches the itch that I could not touch alone.
My prey pants and waits for an opportunity to attack. Their aura heals the scratches and nicks on their exposed flesh. My prey's arms shake, their lungs rattle, their ruined hair dangles in front of their eyes, and their pride compels them to stay and finish what they started.
A growing crowd roars from the stands surrounding their miniature battlefield.
"Make me proud!
"1000 lien here I come!"
"Get the next fighter!"
In the blink of an eye, green shards fly as my prey falls to the floor. My meager Threaded Cane clicks against the hard dirt as shouts of disappointment and glee erupt.
"You were a nice warm-up, I suppose." These soldiers aren't bad… It's just that they were boring to fight after the first three. Aura and semblance mixed the matchups but ultimately they fought relatively the same.
Curses and profanities fly as something pushes them out of their way. Maybe something interesting would happen after all? A devious plan cooked in my head. Of course, the fodder would be eager to prove themselves/ The elite would need a little… convincing.
"Is that all you have?" I call the crowd. "Are you really about to let a foreigner win in your own home? Pathetic!"
A new voice erupts from the crowd as a cloaked figure flies into the arena. Perfect~
"Allow me to restore my peers' honor!" Bladed-gauntlets aim at my head before yellow dust rounds fly. Their pellets never touch my leather coat as I dip and duck, letting my laughter surround the arena.
Cheers and curses fly through the stands at the newcomer.
"Bold words coming from a welp," I smirk. The girl barely even looked eighteen.
The girl roars in anger as she dashes towards my evasive form. The Threaded Cane parries a strike coming for my gut before swiping away the other fist coming to my side. However, the jaws of the gauntlet clamp around my weapon and pull. Clever girl.
The Threaded Cane flies to the ground. Disarmed, I dash back, and the girl dashes in. My arms fly to my defense as her blades soar in all directions, impossibly so. There is only so far an arm can reach before needing to retract to do another action, so how could she do it? An illusion semblance?
A beast on four legs scratches the dirt with their paws. Their jaws snap and drip with feral hunger. A clocktower did, does, will exist singing its song of insanity. Burn, churn, mourn, live, die the inhabitants will. Sweet whispers on a foggy night call as a new Nightmare is announced from a pale red moon. A mirror appears. The rabid eyes of a beast stare back.
"No!" I scream.
Four ring-shaped blades crash into my forearm and the hardened blood underneath cracks.
The girl attempts to pull her weapon free only to find the blood flowing into her weapon, not dripping to the ground. "W-what are you doing? We need to get you to a doctor!"
If I were an ordinary mortal, my arm would be split in two. Thankfully I am no ordinary mortal. I am a Hunter, and I had run out of mercy.
The metal of the weapon cracks beneath the weight of my grip. "What. Did. You. Do?"
Excuses and accusations of 'it wasn't real' fly through one ear and out the other. A fist grips their tunic, their feet hovering above the ground. "It's my semblance!" they cry and kick and scream.
Frost tickles thy skin and a gentle breeze looms above. "What did you see!?" a banshee shrieks from within. No response. "What did you see!?"
"Nothing, I saw nothing!" they cry, frozen tears falling from their cheeks. "I can make people see things, I don't know what!"
It wasn't real. Twas a vision only. An illusion. Never again would I go through that. Never again like so many bloodkin before me.
The girl's feet touch the ground, her shirt ripped open and revealing her breasts.
Blood drips from my eyes—body after body parts before me. Confused cheering and cries fill the arena.
The chanting of a name grows distant as I stumble deeper into the palace and into my room. The bed groans beneath my weight and the whisper of a name rings in my ears.
Vernal.
"What the fuck is this?" a low, annoyed voice asks. "I leave you alone for a morning and you're bleeding all over the bed."
Ah shit.
Qrow sighs. "I doubt you've even cleaned your wounds." Qrow pulls up a chair. "Let me see."
There was nothing to see thanks to the natural blood of Hunters. "I fear the mental wounds run deeper than the physical," I say coldly.
"What? Look, whatever happened I'm sure it wasn't too bad," he waves dismissively.
He didn't understand. How could he? "A girl with short black hair and bladed-gauntlets made me see the Nightmare! She wept crystal tears after she gazed into the endless abyss that is my mind, Qrow," my voice cracks. "Can anyone just… do that?"
It wasn't right. It just wasn't. Back home, normalcy was an illusion for the Great Ones to hide behind. One had to work to peer behind the veil, but here… Here, one had to work to get into the veil of normalcy. This must not come to pass.
Qrow stays quiet, holding his chin in contemplation and an unknown look in his eye. "I know what it's like to have someone mess with your mind, and there was only one way to get over it."
"What did you do?" I ask.
Qrow makes his way to the door. "Follow me."
Through the halls and windows with the midday sun peeking through comes a room with a red cross on its doors. They slid open with a gentle creek and feet brush against the wood from within. An elderly man appears with his gray hair in a bun. The wrinkles in his face are surprisingly few and his very presence soothes my nerves.
"Is that you Qrow! My, it's been ages since I've last seen you."
Qrow smiles and moves to give the man a hug, "I've not forgotten about you, Master, and as much as I'd love to catch up, I have a friend here who needs your help."
The man smirks, "Is this the young lady I hear you've settled down with? Eh~, I knew you'd find someone with that semblance of yours!"
"She is, Master, " Qrow says as he shuffles from side to side. "I've got some business to attend to, but can you please help my, " Qrow scrunches his nose, "fiance with something?"
"Of course, of course, now be off with ya."
"Thank you Master."
The doors close with a gentle click.
The man clears his throat. "I am Miyo Hitero and I am The Clan's Leader of Spirit. Firstly, is your aura unlocked?"
I didn't know where to start. What was Weiss up to? Surely it'd be simpler than this.
Snow white skin pulls the trigger of a loaded gun. The dust bullet rips through the bone mask of a paper target. The hole was not between the eyes of a Grimm, but of a faunas.
AN: Ah and so it begins. In a world where every warrior can defy physics, mess with your mind, manipulate time, and other reality-warping abilities, one must be able to defend against it if one hopes to survive. Case in point, Yang's semblance where she can dish out the punishment she takes, that's kinda op as long as she can tank it. How a straightforward person such as Pavune will adapt is up for debate, but I think you can guess how. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!