Pariah


Chapter 5

Ghosts


He took a deep breath as he focused on his current training regimen. He threw his ax at the dummy and missed again. He has been at this for four hours now and he was starting to become frustrated, his patience nearing its end. Try as he might but he could not concentrate on his current task. Kicking one of the rocks he cried out, releasing some of his pent up anger. His mind was still a jumbled mess. Sitting down on the snow-covered grass, he decided to take a small break, grabbing his canteen he drank from the water inside.

It has been four months since they all escaped their unjust imprisonment at the age of sixteen. As soon as he was released from his bindings, nothing could stop his murderous rampage. All the hate that has been built up for years came out in one swoop. He still remembered their pathetic pleas for mercy, the looks of defeat as soon as they realized that their fates were sealed. They begged him not to kill them because they had family, but their words fell on deaf ears. No matter what they said to him, there was no stopping the monster they created.

Monster. That's what they all called him, except for one person. His mother.

Even as they were all dead his fury did not dissipate until his mom grabbed him. She held him in her arms and showed no fear when she did so. It was the first time in his life that he ever felt loved. While all the other slaves avoided him on every turn, she held him close.

After their successful escape, they traveled to the north-western coastline of Mistral and settled on the edge of a secluded village. While it was cold, especially during the winter months, it was not as bad as his ice-cold confinement. They lived on their own, away from prying eyes. It was at that time he decided to begin his training.

"Wolfe?" The voice of his mother called out.

He looked up to her, he saw the concern she had for him in his eyes. He still felt uncomfortable knowing someone cared for him, but he was grateful for it. She stood at 1,60 meters, making her shorter than he was. His mother had shoulder-length auburn hair, gold eyes, a pale complexion, and fox ears.

"I'm fine, mom." He noticed her ear flick. Something she only did when she became irritated.

"Please don't lie to me." She said in a calm manner. "I can see when something is clearly troubling you. After all, I have known you for nine years now."

When she sat down next to him, she looked out into the forest and sighed softly.

"I was like you once." She said. "I held so much anger inside of me and for years and I let it fester. Years wasted blindly hating, not only those who were responsible for my enslavement but humanity as a whole. Never questioning if the views I held were justified. I have seen the error in my way of thinking the day I had to take care of you. There were a lot of inner struggles I had to overcome. I couldn't believe what your parents had done to you."

His head snapped in her direction ready to voice his protests. But when she laid a comforting hand on his arm the words died within his mouth.

"I know. They are not your parents but I think you know what I'm trying to say." She smiled reassuringly. "And I won't dissuade you from your pursuit. What I am asking you however is that you think of your sister. She, like you, is her own person. She isn't Willow and she isn't Jaques. I came to the same conclusion the first time I saw you. There will come a time when you meet each other and you alone will have to decide what you want to do. You shouldn't let your emotions control you. You'll only hurt yourself in the end and I don't want that."

He considered her words. She always told him what was on her mind and did so truthfully. Wolfe came to value her honesty and words greatly.

She moved a few strains of hair from his injured eye. He felt her kiss his cheek.

"You're a smart cookie." She said. "I'm confident you'll figure it out.

His mother stood up and made her way back to their home.

"Dinner will be ready in an hour, make sure you'll be there."

"Mom?" She turned to regard him once more."Thank you."

"Anytime." She smiled brightly.

Wolfe stood up and retrieved his ax. Walking back to his original position he took a deep breath and focused on his target. The weapon hit its mark, as the ax was embedded into the head of the training dummy. A wave of satisfaction washed over him.

Progress.


His aim proved to be true once again when he threw his axes at two of the four Atlas soldiers. Their deaths were instant as his weapons split their skulls open, their gray matter exiting their wounds. In a fluid motion, a grabbed his glaive and rushed towards two flanking his right side. They stood frozen their eyes still focused on their fallen comrades. It did not take long for them to come out of their stupor as their heads snapped back onto him. But he was too fast. His glaive cut open the abdomen of the first soldier. The man abandoned his weapons as he desperately tried to keep his innards from escaping his grievous wound. It was at that moment where Wolfe snatched his arm and put the pain-stricken man in front of him. His partner panicked at the butchery and unloaded his magazine into his fellow atlesian. Wolfe unceremoniously threw the bullet-riddled body to the side and rushed the remaining soldier. This one, at least put up something of a fight as he brandished his combat knife. It was short-lived, however, as his hand was severed by the swing of his glave. The man screamed in agony as blood protruded from his stump. Seizing the moment, Wolfe cut the atlesian clean in half with a horizontal strike, silencing him.

Their lives snuffed out in an instant, Wolfe brought his attention back to the two remaining individuals. He did not know what has befallen the man, who was withering in pain on the ground. He could tell that they were in a state of unrest. It was a blessing and a curse simultaneously. It helped set those that apposed him in a constant state of unease and gave him the upper hand multiple times. But it still pained him that the only person who would accept him for who he was, was his mom. He wondered if the pain the man was experiencing was caused because of the aura he emitted. He was the first person, who had this kind of extreme reaction to his presence. Just what was different about him? His curiosity was piqued. It was a shame that he could not investigate further. The doctor would have a field with the situation presented to him.

The woman however looked up towards and at the carnage he inflicted. Her expression changing emotions by the second with wide eyes. Her eyes and white hair reminded him of the woman, who brought him into this rotten world. He wondered. There were shock, fear, and anger that she displayed in a short amount of time. Her light blue eyes were glaring at him, as she found her senses again and assumed an air of superiority. Wolfe always wondered where the people of Atlas got their arrogance and the false sense of supremacy from. It did not matter. They all similarly met their bloody fates and he still lived.

"I will see to it that your demise will be as painful as possible." The woman seethed.

There was no need for words to be exchanged. He did not see the point. The only answer he gave her was the tightening of his grip around his glaive.

The woman shot forward, their weapons colliding furiously. Due to her impressive speed, Wolfe found himself on the defensive, parrying and dodging her incoming strikes. They danced around the area while her offensive found no sign of stopping.

As she dashed forward once more, Wolfe found his opening. With his glave, he deflected her sword and created enough room to strike her in the abdomen with his armored fist. The woman grunted and her Aura flickered a light blue.

"Huntress." The woman was taken aback by the palpable disdain that rolled from the words he spoke. Thanks to the passive effect of his gene, he observed how she tried to conceal her growing discomfort.

She parried his incoming strikes, cringing at the pressure behind them. When he was forced back by an aura enhanced kick he collected one of his axes from the dead soldiers and strapped it to his belt. The moment of respite was short-lived, as a storm of small white Nevermores suddenly assaulted him, obscuring his view. The impact threw him off balance and he sought cover behind one of the many mining carts. He would thank Oum later that it was not filled with unstable dust. Being blown up to smithereens was not on his agenda.

As the onslaught ceased he jumped out of cover and found the area abandoned, safe for the man that still moaned in pain. As he scanned his surroundings he was unable to detect the woman. Materializing out of nowhere, three white be Beowolves rushed him.

Wolfe has never fought against Grimm before, for their black brethren would give him a wide birth. They seemed to actively avoid his presence, which made training somewhat frustrating when he had no outlet. Bandits usually had to suffer for it. Not that anything of value was lost when he did. These specimens must come from semblance. That was the only logical conclusion Wolfe could come up with.

Cleaving his way through the first beast that charged him he found that Grimm, semblance or not, were just as fickle as the people who stood in his way. A massive paw from the second tried to swipe his head from his shoulders but met the same fate as the last. Wolfe kicked the side of third lunging Beowulf head and brought his glaive down, severing its legs. With one final sweep, he decapitated the beast, its body disappearing like the two that came before.

He knew that something slashed his back, as he was pushed down to one knee by an unseen force. A shocked gasp reached his ears. He turned around to see the woman exchanged glances between her blood-stained sword and him.

"Y-you have no Aura?" she stammered in confusion.

Not saying a word, Wolfe became a blur of lightning and continued his unrelenting advance. Caught off-guard he landed two solid hits to each of her sides, weakening her Aura further. The woman tried to create distance between them, but he denied her at every turn. With each attack, he noticed her strength waning. If he pressed on, she would soon find herself exhausted. The end was nearing its conclusion.

With continued vertical strikes he forced her on one knee. As their weapons met once more, the woman's arm collapsed from the continued pressure. With a savage kick to her temple, she was thrown back, her Aura breaking. Rushing towards her he brought his glave up for the killing blow. He tried to scramble away from the incoming attack and raised her sword at him. A futile attempt at stopping his advance. This would all be over in a moment.

But then all was undone as he slipped on a patch of ice, losing his balance. Seizing the moment that presented itself to her, the Huntress buried her sword into his right thigh. Wolfe screamed in pain as the sword penetrated through his leg. Laughing could be heard from the man, that still lay on the snow-covered ground.

"Fuck you, pal." Was all the man said with a grin when they made eye contact. Blood was still streaming out of his eyes and nose. The man's Aura was struggling to keep up. Just what made him so different? It was unlikely that he would receive any answers to his question.

Wolfe quickly grabbed the Huntresses collar colliding his head with hers. The act was so strong that the woman fell backward while drawing her sword out of his thigh. He let out another painful scream, as she fell to the ground. She did not make another move. Seeing the amount of blood exiting, Wolfe needed to act fast. Searching in his pouches he retrieved a vial of fire dust and spread it across the entry and exit point of the wound. With the flick of his lighter, he ignited the dust, cauterizing his injury. His self inflicted torment made him hit the ground again, writhing in agony. He was on the verge to lose consciousness. He could not let that happen. Wolfe would make sure he died first before he would be imprisoned again. With his glave acting as his support he slowly stood up again, groaning and cursing as he did so. The stench of his burnt flesh reaching his nostrils made him grimace.

It was in times like this where he wished he had an Aura like others. How many times he longed to be born different. A wish that would never fulfill itself. His only hope now was the doctor he took with him three years ago.

Limping away from the Huntress and the Huntsmen, Wolfe sought shelter in one of the dust refineries, after procuring all of his weapons. It was unwise to linger any longer and so he began his retreat.


Winter's eyes shot open. Grabbing her sword she took in her surroundings, trying to find the man responsible for the deaths of the soldiers under her command. Her Aura was broken and blood was running from her nose. It would seem that dirty tricks were also in his repertoire. As she touched it she sighed in relief that it was not broken.

"Winter!" her gaze snapped in Qrows direction. The Huntsman was still unable to do anything from the unseen ailment that he still suffered from. Pointing in the opposite direction, she followed his instructions.

A trail of blood led to one of the many dust refineries of the SDC mining facility. Not wasting any more precious time she followed the red tainted snow. Standing in front of the entrance she took deep breathes, trying to calm her strained nerves. Their duel was far more troubling than she would have hoped. The fact that the Wandering Wolf had no Aura to speak of was asinine and impossible, given his reputation amongst Kingdom officials. And now that their blades collided she was deeply concerned that this man was able to keep up with a Huntress. Hadn't Qrow suffered from whatever force plagued him, she was confident that they would have had the upper hand. Winter cursed under her breath when she noticed that the uncomfortable feeling was still present.

Kicking down the entrance to the building Winter held her sword defensively. The amount of unrefined dust was worth millions if her estimations were to be correct. And they most likely were, given that her father tried to shape her into his image. She shivered at the thought. The inside was cloaked in darkness. The only light sources came from through smaller holes that occupied the walls. The SDC wouldn't even spend money on the improvement of their own properties. How revolting.

From the corner of her eye, she registered movement. Quickly ducking another strike from the man's glaive, Winter went on the offensive again. The Wandering Wolf's movement was slowed thanks to the injury she inflicted on his leg. With the tip of her sword, she nicked his shoulder, drawing blood once more, eliciting a pained grunt. The fight was in her favor now.

Her victory was short-lived however as the man collided his elbow with her temple, making her vision blurry. Stumbling back Winter bearly avoided another strike of his glave. The attack however was sloppy and hit one of the many pipes. Hot steam filled the building obscuring her vision.

She noticed him trying to escape through the door she entered and pursued him. Through the fog, one of his axes flew right past her into the building itself. Winter briefly followed its trajectory. And as she did panic and fear gripped at her heart, when she realized that she was not the intended target.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her. When she stepped out of the building, the ax collided with the unrefined dust and exploded in a myriad of elemental fury. The shock wave sent both her and the Wandering Wolf flying into the center and everything went black.


When he came to he felt the cold air on his face. Why could he feel the cold of Mistral's northern climate on his face? As he brought himself up into a sitting position he touched the left side of his helmet, where his injured eye was located. He found that that side of his helmet was missing. A shame. He really liked this helmet. But it has served its purpose and since it was of no use anymore he removed and discarded it into the snow. Now his face was fully revealed. Short black hair, with buzzed sides and a short black beard. His mom would certainly not like his new grown facial hair, but he has come to take a liking to it. A battle for another day he supposed. His exposed light blue eye took in the destruction he caused. Rows of buildings were burning thanks to his last-ditch effort. He did not feel bad about it if he was being honest.

Finding his glaive he groaned as he stood up. Looking around he found the Huntsman staring wide-eyed at him. Wolfe made his way towards him. As he stood before him the man could only stare at his face. A common reaction to the branding that covered his eye. He kicked the man's head. The action broke his Aura and rendered him unconscious. As he raised his glaive he heard coughing coming from behind him.

He turned and saw the Huntress slowly regaining consciousness and made his way towards her. When she saw him coming in her direction she panicked and scrambled for her sword. Gripping her weapon she turned around at pointed it at him. It was a pathetic attempt to threaten his advance. He swung his glave at the action and severed her arm above the elbow.

She screamed in pain while she held her stump with the other hand, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. As he raised his weapon for the killing blow he took in her facial features one more time. Her fear-stricken light blue eyes and white hair reminded him of someone. But who? Images of the past played in front of his mind.

Willow Schnee.

"Tell me." He addressed her. "What is your name?"

The woman looked confused as to why he asked such a question.

"W-winter Schnee." She replied trying her best to sound confidant. Tears were running down her cheeks from the pain she was experiencing.

Winter Schnee. So that was her name. He had many questions. Questions that could not be answered now, for he did not have the luxury of time.

'There will come a time when you meet each other and you alone will have to decide what you want to do.' His mother's words echoed through his mind. Up until this moment, he did not realize how much he dreaded this meeting. It was a strange sensation.

Not breaking eye contact he lowered his weapon and got down next to her on one knee. When he placed the glave onto the ground he retrieved another vial of fire dust and put it on her stump. She let out a pained hiss at him in shock. She wanted to say something but he held a piece of wood in front of her mouth.

"Bite down."

Following his command, he brought forth his lighter and looked at Winter one more time. He said nothing as he ignited the fire dust, cauterizing her bleeding stump. She too withered in agony at the procedure, sweat glistened her forehead. She spat out the piece of wood and regarded him once more. Her eyelids were heavy, while a look of confusion and dread marked her face.

"Why do you look like my grandfather?" The question was unexpected, but he remained silent, as more tears were spilling from her eyes.

"Answer me!" she demanded.

Not long after, Winter fell unconscious again. He brought both her and the other man away to a safer distance from the burning carnage that surrounded them. Both would live, of that he was certain. The sound of crying engines signaled his departure.

Before he left, Wolfe regarded her one final time.

"Until we meet again, sister."