Chapter 13: Teachings of a Nomad
28:17
Yang flopped onto her bed that night –not long after her nice talk with Nick– not realizing how exhausted she really was. She fell asleep instantly, at first dreamless. Then she opened her eyes and sat up in the wheat field. She was looking around at the waves of grain, when her eyes fell on the massive tree. She hiked up to it, keeping an eye out for the Maidens. There was something about the tree that just seemed… like she was emotionally attached to it in some way. She stepped up to the trunk, going round climbing over it's massive, knurly roots encircling it, looking for any sign of the Maidens; she wanted to talk, she wanted answers.
A strange feeling overcame her, like she wasn't seeing something; or that what she needed to see wasn't on the ground. Her eyes drew up, following the trunk of the tree, and memories of climbing the very same tree came to mind. When have I climbed this thing? I've only been here recently, right? The answer came to her almost immediately. I have been here before, when I was six! I remember… I climbed this tree–
Then she saw it.
The one thing she didn't expect; something high in the tree, hidden, camouflaged by the tree's very leaves and branches. When she saw it, she remembered; it looked just like she remembered it, a little shabby, but still strong. She even remembered how to reach it.
It was a treehouse.
She climbed the tree, planting her boots in the same places, the same knots, branches, and crooks as she used to. After about fifteen feet, she came upon the dirtied-up steps built out of mere toot-long segments of some two-by-fours, anchored deep into the massive, strong trunk. She quickly ascended, climbing up to the treehouse's trapdoor. All this was almost second nature –a familiarity from memory– to her; but, somehow, the treehouse itself –brilliantly crafted and built– still eluded her memory, especially its interior… and its craftsman. She pushed the trapdoor open and climbed inside.
It was a little musty, a dampness in the air almost like that in a forest after a rain. Surprisingly, the interior wasn't all that bad; in fact, the whole treehouse was fairly large, maybe about twelve-by-twelve square, around a two-foot thick trunk. Yang could see "windows" two per side, a table by one wall, a mattress by another; but what amazed her was a doorway leading out to an outdoor balcony. She walked around the roomy treehouse, standing upright with room to spare, taking it all in. she looked back at the trapdoor, lying open, and she walked over and nudged it closed with her foot; it banged shut. For a moment, she feared she would suffer another panic attack, but it didn't come. She stepped back, and bumped the mattress. She looked down at it, and noticed something wedged between it and the wall. She knelt down and picked it up. It looked like an Ursa, but it didn't have spikes or plates, or glowing eyes, it wasn't pitch-black, and it looked almost cartoonish. It was a brown, soft, fuzzy stuffed animal; with short, round ears, a bobbed tail, sewn-on eyes, nose, mouth, and –she guessed– claws on its sausage-like arms and club-like feet. Its belly was a lighter, almost tan color. She remembered it; the memories making her eyes moisten. It was the first thing I got here. A… uh… bay-err? Yeah, a Teddy-Bayer. How do I know that?
She stood up, "Bayer" still in hand, and looked over the treehouse again. She saw something, about chest height, on the tree: an engraving. It was a pair of initials, inside what looked like a pentagon. She was surprised that it wasn't the cliché heart; but as she looked closer at the initials, she became disturbed. A notion began at the back of her mind, and then led to a vague memory. It was evidence that when she was little, she wasn't always alone here; there was another:
Y+E.
Yang and… "E"? The memory came to her in bits and pieces. She could remember that "E" was a boy, a little taller than her, about a year older, had brown –chestnut, actually– hair, had cute dimples when he smiled, and there was something odd, mysterious. Even magical about his eyes; but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't figure it out. Those eyes feel familiar, somehow. She vividly remembered, however, that she had been endeared to him in a way: they both were looking for someone at the time; her for her mother, him for his father.
She sat down on the mattress then fell on her side as the memory –what she could remember of it– emotionally hit her.
At 0430 hours, Nick left the Xiao Long residence; leaving behind his pack, utility belt, tomahawk, and his special Bowie knife. He walked into the woods for nearly an hour… then collapsed in a snowy clearing, fists clenched, body shaking. He sputtered and gurgled, back arched as if in pain. He fell backwards, in a spasmodic fit. He pulled at his hair. He looked up at the heavens in anger and agony. Finally he turned to his side and curled into the fetal position, weeping the only thing he said, over and over again, was, "My God, my God, why have I forsaken you?!"
Another convulsing, sputtering, angry and agonizing fit took him, this time all he could mutter was, "… agents of evil in the heavens!" Tears fell backwards, one going into his ear. Finally, he calmed down, and picked himself up. He headed back the way he came. This wasn't the first time this happened; he knew it wouldn't be his last.
It was pre-dawn when he returned to the house. He slipped back in the back door, the house was quiet. He paused his breathing to fully take in the scene. Of the few sleeping forms he could see, none of them stirred, but a couple did softly snore. He sighed, and quietly sat at their table. He folded his hands, resting his head on them; silently moving his lips minutes passed. He paused, though not looking up, when someone quietly walked in. He didn't move, head resting on his folded hands, sitting in the chair waiting for the person to move on. She didn't.
Yang walked over and sat almost across from him. "Hey," she whispered, "are you awake?" he slowly shifted his head, a yes. His lips started to silently move again, his attention returned to Someone else. She could hear the tiny clicking noises he made as he prayed, and she wondered what he was doing. His back rose as he heaved a sigh. He looked up at her after he finished. "Hey, you okay? What was that about?" she asked. He looked on, "Don't worry about it."
Jaune woke up in a cold sweat. His sleep had been dreamless, except for a feeling of wickedness and strife. He had been in his own home, along with some of his sisters, Ren, and Nora; staying the night. He sat up, taking a look at himself. It felt like his hands were dirty, they looked clean. He walked into the bathroom, rubbing his hands; they started to feel sore. He washed his hands, threw water on his face, and turned to leave; but he caught sight of a red shirt –one of his sisters'– and its color released a torrent of emotions inside him. That was Pyrrha's color. He closed the bathroom door, slowly fell down in a crumpled heap, and wept bitter tears.
Later, it could've been minutes or hours, someone knocked on the bathroom door, jarring Jaune out of his misery. "Jaune, are you okay?" it was Nora. "There are people here looking for you," she said. He stood up, splashed some water on his face again, and started getting dressed. "I'll be right out, Nora, just give me a minute!" he pulled on a shirt and stepped out, and walked into the room with three strangers. Two wore suits, one of them spoke. "Are you Jaune Arc? Enrolled as a student at Beacon Academy? Leading member of team JNPR, Partner to Pyrrha Nikos?"
Jaune was hit below the belt from these questions. "Yes," he answered, sitting down. One stranger, not like the others, whispered into the ear of the speaker –who took no notice of him– and stood up. The speaker said, "General Ironwood wants to see you, as soon as possible." "Alright!" Nora butted in, "Let's go!" the other stranger scolded, "Not you, only Mr. Arc."
"…Ten! ...Fifteen! ...Twenty! ..." Nick called out reps as he and Yang did push-ups in the snow. "…Thirty-five! …Forty! …Forty-five! …" Already Yang's arms burned; and she was huffing and puffing in the cold, shaking from exertion. I used to be able to do fifty easy! She looked at Nick as he called out –keeping an eye on her- "…Fifty! …" and kept going. Ha! He's sweating like a pig! She remarked, but then noticed something that stunned her. His arms aren't even trembling a little! "…Sixty! …" he called, watching her, "…Sixty-five! …Seventy! …Seventy-five!" he stopped, and Yang collapsed into the cooling snow. Before she could get a few refreshing breaths in, his voice boomed, "ON YOUR FEET!" he stood up first, she followed suit. Clenching her jaw against the cold, she started to shiver. "Remember and repeat:" he said, staring deep into her eyes, "My hands will be strengthened for war, but I'll strive for peace, Though I'll fall, I'll stand up, through fire and pain I'll endure, and come out refined and stronger than before." She did, after each pause.
He stayed there, looking into her eyes, and said, "You did good Yang, you followed through every step of the way; through running six miles, hauling a log on our shoulders a hundred yards, fifty chin-ups, and seventy-five push-ups, in the snow. Even though I told you, 'you can quit anytime, go home, have a nice warm drink in the warm, cozy house; no one will think you bad for it.' but you didn't, and kept with me." He looked passed her and asked, "What do you think Qrow? Is she ready to move on?" Yang whirled around, surprised that her uncle was there, watching. He wasn't the only one; a red cape fluttered next to him. With a puff, his gravelly voice answered, "Maybe after breakfast–" "dad's making French toast!" Ruby excitedly added. Nick grinned, "I like French toast, almost as good as S.O.S." Yang looked at him in confusion, as did Ruby. Nick shrugged, and added, "So, let's eat."
They all shuffled inside. Taiyang was already beating the batter with a whisk. Two loaves of bread –store bought, pre-sliced, still wrapped in the plastic bag– sat on the counter, awaiting their bath. Winter was off to one side, quietly talking with Weiss. "I find it hard to believe that he's one of those great warriors," Weiss said, making a face, "he's so timid, refusing to fight for the most–" she stopped before she became too flustered. Winter agreed. "It seems," the elder reasoned, "that he doesn't want to be known. He's hiding something; purposefully holding himself back –restraining himself– when we fought. I feel that he's more powerful than he leads on for us to believe." Nick was able to hear them, and internally commented, yeah, and this power scares me…
Later, Taiyang served the toast. While the rest dug in, Nick looked up with a silent bullet prayer for breakfast; Yang asked him, "so, why the intensive training so early?" he looked at her and said, "There's still some re-gen serum in your system; it ain't harmful, but we can make use of it. For the next eighty-three hours, the compound will increase muscle strength as you train; if you keep the training, you'll be back to your old self faster now." Taiyang asked Nick, "So, what kind of training are you planning on?" Nick glanced over at Taiyang and answered without missing a beat. "Cross-training, along with some practical physical training." And he cut into his toast, eating the syrup-covered food. "What do you mean 'cross-training'?" Taiyang said. Nick swallowed and said, "Iron sharpens Iron, Steel sharpens Steel, a good way to train someone to fight –especially in hand-to-hand combat– is to spar, as much as you can." He glanced at Yang, who was staring at him. Nick returned to his food. "What?! are you a glutton for punishment or something?!" Ruby asked, wide-eyed. He glanced at her with a twinkle in his eye, but he said, "you know, this is delicious. I might even have seconds." He piled on more pieces, and then doused them with syrup; not as much as Ruby, but a fair amount.
Blake hadn't spoken since her talk with Yang. However, she listened intently, as she ate, to the conversation. When Nick gave his explanation, she was a little puzzled. I never heard that expression before; Steel sharpens Steel?! I wonder where he got it from. She looked at Nick with an air of pity. I don't think he knows what he's getting himself into. She saw Yang get up, going to grab something.
After breakfast, they all went back outside; Nick and Yang into the snow-dusted yard. "Well," he said, "how do you wanna play this?" she looked at him with a playful smirk. I'll lead." "Alright, I'll take it easy on you," he said, shaking his head. She scoffed, raising her own gloved fists into her ready stance. They were nearly ten feet apart; but she was caught off guard by his simple stance. At first glance, it even looked cocky.
He just stood there, looking at her; arms at his side. His body was slightly turned away from her. Although his was slightly bowed forward, his eyes locked on hers; hardened eyes that broke his seemingly cocky attitude. He looked at the spectators, and Yang –for the first time– noticed the scar on his head, halfway between his eye and ear; a white slash running down the side of the edge of his face. He looked back at her, and noticed the look in her eyes. Now you notice the scar, Yang?
Choosing that moment to strike, Yang charged at him, right fist reared in a power blow. She let it loose. Nick saw it coming, and quickly diverted her fist. It missed his head by an inch, sliding off his open and angled hand. She recovered fast, and threw another punch. He dodged this one, rolling to her left. She jumped back from a perceived jab; then threw a roundhouse kick at his ribs.
That was a mistake.
Muscle memory took over, and Nick stepped in close, and blocked her kick with his forearm; in the next instant, he looped his arm around her leg, swept her other leg out with his, reached out and shoved her chest. The next thing she knew, she was laying on the ground in a daze, eyes looking into the sky. "C'mon, get up Yang." Someone said. She shook the mist from her mind and got to her feet. Nick was standing a few feet off. She saw him.
Now it's on.
She set her gaze on him, giving a predatory smile. Her eyes flashed red. Taiyang felt remorse for Nick. Well, now he's dug his own grave, now she's stronger; thankfully Ember Celica's put away… right? Yang approached Nick, slipping something on her left wrist.
Throwing punch after punch, yang pummeled Nick with stronger and stronger blows; he was blocking each with his arms. Suddenly, she shot her knee out; Nick caught it in the ribs. Yang took advantage of this opening, and let her fist fly. Her punch thudded on his jaw, so loud that even Ruby heard it, and so powerful it threw him back, staggering a few steps. He just stood there and chuckled, "nice move." He could taste the coppery tang in his mouth; a small trickle of blood ran out the corner of his mouth. He leaned over and spit red. Yang looked at him in mild concern. "Look, quit your gawking; a split lip ain't anything. Don't worry about it."
"sorry, that was just jaw-ring to see." She replied, stepping back. "AUGH!" Ruby groaned, "C'mon Yang!" Yang turned and glanced at her sister, then back. As soon as she turned back, Nick charged her. He was faster than she thought. She anticipated a punch, not what he dealt, and tried to block.
He jumped up, and twisting around in midair, kicked her with both his legs, square in the chest. The force of his kick plus his momentum crashed into her, sending her tumbling to the ground. He'd dropkicked her, and landed on his back. He flipped himself up on his hands and sprung to his feet, landing in a crouch. She picked herself up. Angry. "What the Hell?!" she said. She charged. She threw a few punches. He blocked a few. Finally, Yang threw a right hook; a haymaker. He grabbed her wrist and slipped out of the way. But, in the same moment, when she was extended, he quickly jabbed her in the armpit, hitting a special point. He let go, and she staggered a step a step or two; he backpedaled to keep his balance. She looked at him with ire, raising her fists again.
Suddenly, her right arm went numb, then slowly started to weaken. She watched it with shock, then horror. Her arm now hung limp at her side, and she looked up at Nick with Crimson eyes. "What did you do?" she demanded. "paralyzed your arm, for now." He said matter-of-factly. She wa loss for words, trembling with fury, fists balled, gritting her teeth. Finally she yelled at him. "You… YOU MONSTER!" she was about to charge.
He looked up at her hair then, staring at it. His head tilted to the side and a look of childish wonder was splayed on his face. Her hair's on fire; when she gets mad, really mad, her hair sets on fire…
That's awesome.
Now she was nearly blind with fury, he was staring, gawking, at her hair. She snapped, all the little things piling up and pushing her over the edge. The yellow bracelet on her left –and only functional at the moment– arm shifted and transformed onto a gauntlet. Her mind shut off, she wouldn't remember what happened. She launched herself forward and swung at his face. Ember Celica was loaded.
Half of Nick's face exploded in a red spray, and he flew backwards, landing face-down in a crumpled heap. He wasn't moving. Yang came to and stared at his body, terror creeping into her. She was irresponsive to everything else. I just killed him… in cold blood. What have I done? I… I'm the monster. Taiyang was on his feet in an instant, running to Yang. Ruby's hand covered her mouth, trying to hold back a silent scream. Everyone else stood motionless, too shocked at what just happened to think.
After a moment, Nick stirred. "Alrighty then," he muttered under his breath, picking himself up. "N-Nick. You're okay?" Yang asked, still standing behind him. He sighed and said, "you know, you better start believing in ghost stories, miss Xiao Long…" he turned around and faced her, she gasped at the sight.
Nearly the entire left side of his face was blown off; bits of red flesh, and strips of skin, dangled off his head. His right still showed emotion, intact. His left eye was miraculously spared, along with his skull. His voice was slightly altered with only one cheek intact' a silver molar sparkled in the now exposed teeth. Blood covered his exposed skull and dripped onto the snow. I caused this, she thought. The whole thing turned her stomach. He started to talk, and she could see some of the exposed –and some dangling– muscles contract as he voiced his words.
"…You're in one."
A/U: Hello guys! Here's a pre-Christmas upload. I powered through this chapter really fast!
HE REVIEWS:
GamehunterMC: you said it.
Silver-Tritium-Protractinium: *sly smile* I'll never tell.
KnightSpark: ...And Yang won't be happy if she does!
Also: merendinoemiliano, Are you okay? you haven't replied for a while, you got me worried lately.
