Gambol here with your (ir)regularly scheduled upload! I do wish I could say "X day is when I'll post", but being on call for work makes planning ANYTHING so bothersome.
I've taken some feedback from people around Internet-land and will be trying to adjust how I write some things moving forward. So, thank you to anyone who has left any words of advice/critique, I appreciate it! And I appreciate anyone who's been reading along too!
That said, feel free to add anything if you happen to have any criticism! And to make it clear: While it's nice to hear what I do well, I'd prefer to know what I don't, so I can improve. Whether via Review, PM, whatever.
With that out of the way... Have some Blake! Oh, and obligatory "Adam is a jerk" warning.
Blake hated surprises.
In another line of work, in another life, surprises might be pleasant. An unexpected birthday celebration, a declaration of a child to come. When life was comfortable, surprises were welcome, and even if a surprise brought hardship, well, things were settled enough that your entire livelihood wouldn't be disrupted.
For Blake, a surprise often meant a job was at risk of failure.
Her eyes held the peculiar blonde Dimuran high atop the walls. Unblinking, she studied what she could of the other woman's features. Battle-tested - even from afar Blake could surmise as much. A Hunter? She tried to pick out a mark on her neck, yet that was impossible from where she stood. She was at least a Magi; better to assume too much and be disappointed than write off a stranger as harmless.
Potentially a Hunter, then, and most certainly a Magi. Nothing of their intel said anything about someone like that in Alabaster, which made it twice now that her information was off. Blake ground her teeth in frustration, fingers grazing over the cool metal of her kusarigama. Droplets clung to the metal and made her fingertips slick as they passed over, leaving her hand cool and clammy.
"Who is that…?" Ilia whispered beside her.
Blake shook her head. She didn't know, and she hated not knowing. The others shuffled impatiently behind her and she glanced back, raising a hand to stay their weapons. If they jumped, then the woman might too. The town couldn't stop them, they knew that. What they had yet to learn was what the stranger was capable of.
It occurred to her that a long, uncomfortable silence had fallen at the gates. Devin shifted his weight about and the Dimuran, content to simply glare from above, leaned over the wall. "Hey, you guys comin' in or what?" The Dimuran grinned and Blake shifted uncomfortably. What was she smiling about? "There's Grimm out there, ya know. Not safe for travelers!"
Devin regarded the Dimuran with the same perplexed look Blake did. She glanced back down the empty road, peering through the fog that had begun to roll in. The trees were alive with sounds of owls and insects, and the occasional, distant howl of a wolf. Were Grimm nearby? Probably. Did she intend to linger and try their luck?
Blake moved towards the gates in silence and three sets of feet followed close behind. The guards at the gate moved to block her path at first, then with reluctance, they drew back. One moved to a large wheel and began to pull. A call was made above to do the same, and with a grinding screech chains began to shift. The gate rattled, lifting from the ground slowly. Clumps of earth clung to the tips and dripped like liquid off the bars, splattering back against the soft earth.
"Our horses are by the treeline," Blake said, nodding outside the walls. One of the guards scoffed; subsequent dissent went silent when she flashed her weapon. "Put them up in the stables. Please."
Her ear flicked as a ladder nearby creaked. The blonde approached, giving a disarming smile, hands folded behind her head. Devin kept his distance. Blake kept her hand on her weapon. Taking a few steps beyond the gate she met the strange woman and had to crane her head to meet her eyes. She was a bit taller, and from what bits of flesh Blake could make out, had the build of someone who either spent a lot of time in hard labor, or training. Behind her mask Blake frowned, amber eyes drifting back up to unusual lilac ones.
"And who are you supposed to be…?"
Still smiling like an idiot, the Dimuran shrugged. "Me? I'm a nobody, just passing through town!"
"Right… Which is why you glared when we arrived." Blake scoffed and peered past the woman to Devin. He looked listless, hands fumbling with his tunic. "So, let me ask again…" the Meera looked back up and eased her weapon from her waist. "Who are you…?"
Most people tended to react poorly when a weapon was drawn. Most panicked, others reached for their own. In a display of what Blake could only describe as insanity the Dimuran whistled, then reached for the curved blade. Blake jumped back and raised it threateningly, keeping the blade level with the woman's neck as she began to laugh.
"Wow, someone's jumpy, eh? Relax! I was just curious, I've never seen a weapon like that before is all." As though someone wasn't currently training a blade on her the blonde stood on her toes and whistled. "You're all packing, huh? Hey, I get it, roads are pretty dangerous! Never know when some bandits or Grimm might jump ya!"
"Devin…" It was obvious that the woman wasn't going to answer the question herself, and Blake's patience could only last so long. She kept her tone passive as she glanced at the lone Muran. "Who is this? She wasn't here before."
Gaping like a fish the man tried to answer, managing only to let out an incoherent slur of sounds. Either he was fumbling with his words or speaking in some long-forgotten, ancient tongue. Finally, and with a little encouragement from the blonde herself, he found his voice. "Yin. Her… Her name is Yin, and she's a…"
"Just a traveling Magi lookin' for a place to stay the night," the Dimuran interjected. "Don't mind me." Easier said than done when Yin insisted on looming over them like an overprotective parent. Call it paranoia but something rubbed Blake the wrong way about the woman. "Devin mentioned you weren't supposed to show for a bit longer?"
The statement made her frown and the three behind her exchange glances. "We were told to pick up early," Blake explained. Offered a hand, she studied it for a moment, contemplating on whether it would be rude to refuse. They shook hands and she had to resist the urge to wipe it on her trousers.
"Sweet! See, I'm tryin' to get somewhere, and if you guys are traders then… Maybe I can hitch a ride with ya?" Yin grinned, throwing an arm around Devin and pulling him to her side. "Apparently there's some bandits around, and 'course can't forget about Grimm. So, you understand if Dev here doesn't want to go back out."
"I see…" Blake glanced at Devin, or rather, stared at the man until he squirmed, then glanced back at Yin. "Unfortunately, I doubt we'll have the space for a passenger. We're pinched as it is."
"Oh, that right? No worries! In that case let's get your stuff so we can head to bed." Yin shook Devin and pat his chest. "Devin will go get it together now."
"I… I will?" Devin winced and rubbed his side, nodding emphatically. "I mean yes, yes, I will! Please, uh… Right this way, ma'am."
The Muran took the lead. Yin stayed put, smiling while gesturing for Blake to follow. The Meera eyed Yin for a moment, perhaps a bit longer than necessary. People who had something to hide tried to come across as disarming. The only question then was what was it the Dimuran was keeping from them?
She sent Ilia and the others ahead, keeping back with Yin. "After you," Blake insisted, waiting until Yin moved before following behind her. How quickly could she take her out? Alabaster didn't have Magi, they hadn't had one for years. If there was one here now, after all that time of going without, they had to have come from somewhere else, obviously. Either she's sincere and she's just passing through, Blake thought as she pursed her lips. Or she's a Hunter.
"Ya know… This town sure doesn't seem to get a lot of visitors. I mean, it's all the way out here in the middle of nowhere, doesn't have much going for it 'sides the mill." Blake nodded lazily, keeping her eyes on Yin's back. "Nice town. Quiet, I could get used to a place like this," Yin went on. "Not much goin' on though. Probably why the Church doesn't have Hunters out this way."
"The Church doesn't care about these people." Blake bit her tongue after the remark and watched for a reaction. Laughter wasn't what she expected, and she couldn't help but tilt her head when Yin smiled at her.
"Yeah, probably not. Buncha folks in the woods, cutting logs all day. What's there to protect? Not like Vale isn't covered with trees."
She wasn't wrong. Blake's fingers wrapped around her weapon, thumb grazing the dull edge of the blade. Before them Devin came to a halt, stood before a large sliding door. The handle was as large as his forearm and Blake gave the order for Brinne to help. The small Canis huffed and pushed. Smaller than even the spindly trader and with barely an inch of muscle visible, Brinne and Devin strained to open the door. Wood scraped loudly on stone as it slid, filling the night air with an unpleasant grinding. Well-trodden, packed earth stopped abruptly in favor of a stone foundation. Dust had kicked up when the door was moved, creating a thin film that caught the moon's rays.
Her eyes had no problem seeing inside the storehouse, but for his own sake Devin began to light torches inside. Rows of crates lined the walls, some sealed, others simply laying to collect dust. Moonlight shone in from skylights, pale light clashing with the orange glow of flames.
There was plenty inside the building, but Blake's only concern was the cart off to their right. She ignored Yin and motioned Ilia with her, moving through the room. A canvas cover over the wagon obscured its contents. Unfastening a few straps, she drew back the cover, peering inside the wagon. A dozen containers of varying sizes, with labels clearly indicating was inside: leather strips, blades from a blacksmith, preserved jars of foodstuffs, and a container of medicines. Blake stepped back and frowned.
"You're short." Devin nodded and said nothing. Blake sighed and crossed her arms, unmoved by the man's apparent guilt. "You know this by now, Devin. We were clear with our order, weren't we? Then why is it short?"
"I… They didn't have everything we need. I made a request for more, they'll have it in as soon as they can, but…" But? Blake approached and frowned when the Muran stepped back. Her eyes went to Yin, to that unsettling smile she still wore. She chose to ignore it. For now.
"I'm not trying to intimidate you, and I'm not trying to threaten you, but you know what's going to happen if you're short." Her arms fell to her sides and Blake shook her head in disbelief. It was like they were just asking for trouble.
She spoke low, barely above a whisper. It was a shame then Devin didn't get the memo. "It's not my fault!" the Muran protested loudly. "I tried, I did. I asked around, I… I even went to other towns on my way back! No one had -"
"Stop making excuses!" Ilia snapped. "We're not asking for much, and you've had the same amount of time as you always do."
"Ilia," Blake warned, keeping her tone measured. She waited for Ilia to back off, motioning to take a seat on a nearby crate. "Look, I'm not trying to make things worse for you," Blake said, placing a hand on the skittish trader's arm. "We're just here to collect what's ours. Maybe… I don't know, go through whatever else is in here. We can take whatever we need to complete our request, nothing more."
Between a full storehouse of crates there would surely be enough to complete their order. It might take some time to gather, sure, but it was preferable to spend time on that then return shorthanded. For everyone involved.
"No."
Blake blinked slowly, then raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "I'm sorry…?"
"No," Devin repeated. He trembled as he shook his head, glaring her way. "We're… We're not going to sacrifice our own supplies for you. T-Take what's there and… And leave!"
The Muran's posture didn't match his words, nor was there much bite to them. Devin trembled, his face blanched and arms stiffly at his side. Blake did notice a fire in his eye though, one she hadn't thought to see in the wiry man. Interesting. Suddenly someone in the village had a spine.
A lesser person might lash out at the denial. Blake simply sighed, itching the corner of her mouth through her black scarf. "You know what will happen if you refuse. Again, I'm not threatening you, but -"
"Then tell them we refuse! Alabaster is… We're done being under your heel!" Devin snapped. His fire seemed to grow, and for a second Blake swore she could actually feel a heat, a warmth radiating from him.
"Let's just take what we're owed and leave," Brinne insisted from behind her. "Unless you plan on stopping us, Muran?"
They didn't have time for this. "Get the carriage ready and go through the crates nearby. Grab whatever you can, we'll sort out the rest when we get back." Even if they didn't have exactly what they'd requested they could still salvage this. Adam wouldn't be too angry if they returned with a full wagon, regardless of what was in it.
"I s-said no! You can't take that!" Devin stormed towards Blake and the Meera reflexively reached for her weapon. Yin grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him back, smiling as she did. "Yin, what are you doing?!"
"Go ahead and grab your stuff, guys! Don't mind us." Yin nodded and released the Muran only once Blake moved her hand from her weapon. "Say…" the Dimuran drawled, tapping her chin. "Does Alabaster have wards…?"
"W-Wards…?" The man blinked owlishly. "What do you -"
"Is the town protected against Grimm? Has the Church set up wards?" Yin repeated.
"Yes, but they haven't been by in months to renew them. I'm not sure…" Blake's ears twitched, then stood on end. Fire crackled and at first, she'd discounted it as the slow burn of the torches on the walls. Devin had noticed it first, somehow, and was already backing away. Fire snapped angrily, the air in the warehouse rapidly growing warmer.
A small flame danced in Yin's palm, little more than a waning candlelight. The unspoken warning made Brinne back away from the wagon. "Oh, sorry! I was just getting chilly. The torches don't exactly offer much heat, ya know?" Yin laughed and extinguished her flame, closing her hand and snuffing it out.
Cold. In mid-summer heat. A Dimuran? Blake rolled her eyes and pulled her scarf up a bit higher, humoring the woman. Using blades and whatever else they could find, Ilia, Brinne and Flemish began tearing open containers around the storehouse. Devin gawked, then stormed towards Blake. "You can't do this! We have an agreement, what's in the wagon is yours and the rest -"
"What's in the wagon is ours if you have everything. If not, we'll make up for the difference ourselves," Blake retorted coolly. She eased her weapon off her hip to make it clear the matter wasn't up for discussion. Any further arguments died out there, though the Muran continued to glare at her, stewing in silence.
Blake kept an eye on Devin, and more importantly, Yin, while the others went about their business. Containers were pried open and most had nothing of importance. It was only a matter of time until they had what they needed and after a few minutes of searching - and a couple of rejections when extra goods were nearly pilfered, the wagon was loaded and ready to go.
Now, how to get it out of the storehouse?
"You guys need a hand pushing?" Yin asked, grinning as she moved towards the cart. Ilia moved to cut her off, the Dimuran ignored her, rolling her shoulders and moving to the back. "Grab the sides, someone grab the rope on the front and I'll push."
Offering to help, was she? Blake shrugged when the others looked to her for direction. Play along, keep the woman from suspecting anything. Blake moved to the front and grabbed the harness normally meant for horses, taking each of the thick ropes, one in each hand. The coarse material bit into her palms, small strands pricking her skin like needles.
Ilia moved to the right of the wagon, and Flemish and Brinne on the left. Placing her hands on the back-end Yin stomped a foot on the ground loud enough to create an echo. Then, after rolling her shoulders, she lowered herself and dug in.
"Give it a good pull! And watch the bump on the way out, kitten!" Yin shouted playfully. "Don't want to trip!"
A growl of displeasure rumbled in her chest at the nickname. Blake's arms tensed, and she grit her teeth as she pulled. The others pushed, and with a squeak the wheels slowly churned. It was slow moving at first and they might as well have been pushing through mud, but once the wheels started to spin, moving the wagon became much easier.
Moving the wagon became easier but ignoring the squeak of the wheels didn't. They hadn't even reached the door when Yin stopped pushing, slapping the back of the cart and coming around to the front
"Why are you stopping?" Flemish barked as the Dimuran passed him by.
"You telling me that squeak isn't driving you nuts? They've gotta have oil somewhere nearby." Yin knelt down beside the wagon, waving off Ilia and reaching inside. "Man… This thing's rusty as heck! Devin, can you grab some oil? Or… Heck, lard, anything!"
Devin opened his mouth to protest before hanging his head, shoulders slumping. With a nod he stalked off and disappeared into a side room for a moment. He returned with a dark tin container, a thick black liquid sloshing around, spilling over the side and splashing on the floor. He handed it to Yin with a puzzled expression, one which turned to utter dejection as she smiled went to work.
"Thanks, chief!" the Dimuran said, kneeling by the offending wheel. "Just gimme a second guys and we'll keep going."
Why was Yin helping them? Was she trying to avoid conflict? Blake wouldn't attack Alabaster on her own - she didn't need to. Adam would see to that personally. Devin had been uncharacteristically bold moments ago only to become perplexed when Yin made him back off. Why was that?
Yin set the can aside and shook her hands, grimacing as viscous oil saturated her fingertips. "Well… It ain't pretty, but it should be a little better!"
"Good, now get back behind the wagon and push," Ilia demanded, exasperated.
"Yeah, yeah, just gimme a second. I want to make sure we're good!"
Blake folded her arms and watched as Yin leaned under the cart to inspect the axel. She mumbled something about rust and reached for the oil, dipping her fingers back in the can and soaking it. A little too much since she created a mess and a trail of oil, nearly dropping some on Ilia's boots. The Dimuran huffed, tugged on something before emerging with a smile.
"We're ready then…?" Blake asked.
Yin nodded, flashing a grin and thumbs up. "Looks good to me! Shouldn't squeak anymore!" She gave the wheel a pat, then smiled at Blake. "I figured it would have driven you guys nuts, ya know? Just trying to help!"
Blake nodded, keeping her expression neutral. "Thanks. Let's get moving."
She'd barely made it two steps when the sound of wood snapping made her stop. Yin gasped and Ilia growled, drawing her weapon. Blake turned back and gawked as the wagon fell on its edge, the axel bending under the weight of everything inside. Coyly, Yin smiled and held up a broken wheel, torn right from the wagon. "Heh… Woops!"
A container crashed against the canvas cover. With holes aplenty already a new one formed, the corner of the box piercing the material with ease. Then another hit it, and with a loud tearing noise the canvas ripped apart, spilling several smaller boxes out onto the stone floor. Blake watched in silence as the materials they had just gathered littered the floor, metal glistening in torchlight, and food wrapped in wax paper becoming soaked in spilled oil.
"What are you doing?!" Ilia leveled her blade at Yin. "Fix the wagon right now! Fix it or…"
"Or what? You'll attack me?" Yin smiled mockingly, fluttering her eyelashes. Ignoring the blade inches from her face she dropped the wheel beside her, setting a hand on the floor. Blake's eyes followed, and her heart sank as she put two and two together. Yin's hand sparked over the 'accidental spills' Yin had made, spills which made a convenient trail right up to the wagon.
"Ya know… If you were gonna try and pass yourselves off as traders, then maybe you should have dressed the part." Yin chuckled, raising her other hand brandishing a nut, removed from the axel of the wagon. "You really don't even look the part. Like, at all."
Blake grabbed Ilia's shoulder and pulled her back. She then ordered Brinne and Flemish to back off as well. Yin didn't budge, keeping her self-made torch hanging precariously over the spill. Yin grinned and held her palm dangerously close to the wagon, sparks dancing on her palm.
"Wait… You don't want to do that," Blake said, holding her hands up as she approached. "Just help us get the wagon outside and we'll be leaving."
"See… That's where you're wrong. Cuz let's say I do help you guys out, then what? You're back in a few weeks doing this again? As soon as I'm gone you guys will probably come back and punish the nice folks here too, wont'cha?"
Blake would hardly call a town full of bigots 'nice'. Inflammatory comments wouldn't help her case though. Amber eyes drifted to the wagon longingly, and after taking another step closer she came to an abrupt halt when Yin lowered her hand. "Don't!"
"Then leave." The Dimuran stopped smiling. It must have been a trick of the light, but Blake swore she saw red mixed in with lilac. "Go back to wherever your camp is and let your boss know that Alabaster isn't your bitch anymore."
"It's not that simple. If it were up to me we would leave," Blake lied. "I'm being reasonable here. Our leader won't, and trust me, you'd rather deal with me than him."
"That so? Lemme see… You're a Meera, that guy there's a Kanin, right?" Yin nodded towards Flemish, then grinned at Blake again. "And the other girl's a Canis. And you're a… Talpa!" She pointed to her cheeks, indicating the marks dotting Ilia's face. "That makes you guys White Fang, I'm guessing. Not exactly the best people in Remnant, are ya?"
"Don't act as if the Church is free of sin!" Ilia sneered and approached again, drawing her other sword. "You Hunters have more blood on your hands than any of us. Your organization -"
"Who said I'm a Hunter?"
Blake let her eyes drift away from Yin's hand and went to her neck instead. The Hunter's Mark would be there. It should be there. The Dimuran obliged and used her free hand to peel back her hood, showing faint traces of red ink in her skin. It was barely legible, but Blake was certain of it: the woman had, at one point, borne the mark. By some means it had been removed, or Yin had tried to remove it. "You're a rogue…" Blake muttered.
"Got it in one, kitten! And of course, you guys know what that means, right?" Yin grinned wickedly, letting her hand flare up. The oil sizzled, not quite catching, but dangerously close to it. "I care as little about laws as you do. Only difference is I'm not the sort to go robbing people. So… Here's what we're gonna do."
Yin grabbed the side of the wagon and stood. Liquid dripped from her palms, smearing over the canvas of the wagon. Then she lit her other hand on fire. Flames greedily devoured the oil on her palm, roaring when their food depleted, dancing across her skin and reaching out towards the wood of the wagon.
"You're gonna leave, and you can tell whoever is in charge that Alabaster is under my protection. Or… We can hang here, and you guys can fight me for this stuff…" Yin placed her palm against canvas and burned a hole right through it, waving her hand over flames and extinguishing them. "Maybe you four can beat me, maybe not! Aside from me I doubt there's anyone else in town that can fight you. But…" the Dimuran paused and winked playfully at Blake. "I don't go down easy. Even for cuties."
The redness coloring Blake's face wasn't what Yin had hoped for. Her fingers squeezed her weapon to the point of discomfort, and in the back of her mind she reached out for shadows anywhere she could find them. Like frayed threads she could feel them, and a single cast would unravel everything. She had ample shadow to use, but then Yin had flame; light was the antithesis of shadow. Poetic, in a way, and frustrating. Could she overpower the woman's flames? Did she care to find out?
Failure carried with it a slew of unpleasant consequences. Potentially losing someone in a fight, one that could be avoided, did as well.
Frustration mounted but reluctance to fight dulled her anger. Blake left her weapon at her waist, motioning for Ilia and Flemish to return theirs. "But…" Ilia protested only to be silenced by a glare. This wasn't up for negotiations. With all their weapons returned Yin smiled, then gestured towards the doors.
"Grab your horses and get out of here. Tell your commander he can come by if he wants, but he'll be dealing with me. And I ain't gonna be as nice with him as I was with you."
How courteous, Blake sneered, internally damning the woman as she began to back away. They were likely damned if they stayed and fought. She was damned if they returned without supplies. Adam wasn't going to be pleased.
Blake's ears went rigid hearing the draw of a bowstring. Brinne notched an arrow and aimed at Yin who was busy chatting with Devin. "Brinne, put the bow…" The Canis let her arrow fly, the projectile crackling with lightning magic imbued. The ground beneath turned purple as it streaked through the air, closing the distance between Brinne and Yin.
Ash fell at Yin's feet and she glanced down at the pile of crackling soot. Then she turned her eyes on a pale Brinne, smiling at the girl.
"We can dance if ya really want to, but I think your boss lady there wants no part of me," Yin laughed. She winked at Blake and kicked at the pile at her feet.
"You're only hurting this town, Yin," Blake growled as she backed away. "I tried to make it easy for them."
"Oh yeah? By robbing them? Sure, real considerate of ya!" Snickering, the Dimuran flicked oil from her hand, then tossed her hair and grinned. "By the way, it's Yang. Or… Wildfire, you guys might know that one. Let 'em know who sent you home!"
At least Blake now had a name to curse. Sparing the now ruined wagon one last glance Blake turned on her heel, shooting Yang a look of pure disgust before storming out. If the others wanted to complain they held their tongues.
No one said a word as they reached the stables, retrieving their horses from the now smug stablehands. Blake again had to stay weapons, including her own, even going so far as to threaten Flemish when he approached with a hand on his. It wasn't a comfortable silence that they rode out on, and fittingly, the moon was on full display, letting the entirety of the town see their abject failure.
It didn't take long for Alabaster to be a speck on the horizon. Only once it had disappeared completely, concealed by the many bends and turns in the road, did Blake will her horse to a stop. She hadn't realized she'd been clutching the reins so tightly and her palms ached where her nails dug into flesh. Letting the reins drops into her lap, the Meera closed her eyes and growled.
What should have been a simple, mindless job had ended in failure. Could they have fought? Should they have? Nothing was keeping them from turning back around and taking what was theirs.
Yang's face flashed in Blake's mind and she scowled. That woman, that rogue had convinced the skittish Devin to defy them. How many others in the town would follow suit? Their refusal would only condemn them and yet Devin had turned them down. Would they be fighting the entire town? Without Magi, Alabaster would fall in less than an hour. With Yang? Without knowing her strength there was no saying, but then she was willing to fight the four of them moments ago.
Either she's suicidal or she's strong enough to back it up. An untrained Magi could still best someone without magic, this much was true. What was also blatantly obvious was a trained Magi would invariably outmatch an untrained one just as badly. A former Hunter, though, and one strong enough to resist attempts on her life… Blake's jaw clenched, and her eyes bore into the back of her horse's head, anger displaced. She scoffed and raised a hand to slap the animal only to drop it into her lap a second later. Adam was rubbing off on her again.
Her head turned when a horse trotted up alongside her own. Ilia looked at her, worry plain on her face, accentuated by a hint of guilt. For a moment she said nothing, opening her mouth several times as if to speak only to go silent. After fighting for her words, she cast a glance back down the road, peering through the darkness of night.
"We should go back…" Ilia suggested. "It's only one person. We can beat her."
"No."
"But Blake! The Muran can talk all he wants but he's harmless, the whole town is. Once we deal with her -"
"I said no, Ilia." Blake's curt tone silenced her friend, as did her glare. Softening her expression, the ravenette reached out and placed a hand on Ilia's, offering a consoling smile. "I'm not going to risk you all being injured for supplies. We went there to collect the wagon, not to fight a rogue."
"Yet we went with our weapons," Flemish argued. Sat atop his horse he still managed to be shorter than the rest. His young face, marred by a scowl, was free of shadow as he pulled his hood back, rabbit ears standing free. "We came prepared to fight, even if we didn't plan on it. So let's go back!"
And do what? Fight a rogue, one who, through either confidence or foolhardiness, threatened four trained White Fang operatives? Fighting Yang might have been easy with their numbers, but the battle wouldn't have been without cost; even if none of them suffered any grievous wounds the supplies would more than likely have been destroyed in the ensuing battle. Yang knew what they were after, and all it would take was one spark and their whole reason for coming to Alabaster would be up in flames.
There was a chance the Dimuran wouldn't do that. To do so would mean robbing Alabaster of its own much needed stocks. Then again, we know nothing about her, save for what she told us. For all we know she's insane and would willingly burn the building to the ground - and us with it. Realizing the group was waiting on her answer Blake shook her head. "We are not going back. It's not worth the risk."
Brinne nervously ran her hands along her reins. Her horse, sensing her trepidation, whinnied until she stroked its mane. The diminutive girl's eyes sought Blake's, and unlike the fiery anger of Flemish, or the uncertainty of Ilia's, the Canis' were remorseful.
"Adam's not going to be happy…" Brinne mumbled, voice wavering.
"I'll deal with Adam. We left on my orders, so the fact we're leaving without anything to show for it is my fault and mine alone."
"I still say we should go back," Flemish argued. "If we go back without anything to show for it he's going to beat you again."
Blake's hand went to her side, fingers gingerly prodding at a still fresh bruise. The trio with her cast down their eyes, crestfallen and faces wearing guilty masks. "I'll… Think of another way to get supplies. There are other towns nearby, or even a trader's caravan. There are other ways to get what we need."
It wouldn't be easy, and Adam would be furious, but Blake could come up with an alternative. A small raid wouldn't be difficult, and with enough Magi in their ranks no small settlement would resist them. Attacking a caravan would be even easier, provided they could find one.
Ilia drew her horse closer and Blake held still as she was hugged. Stiff, she frowned when arms tightened around her, making no noise even as the ache of her ribs was agitated. "You shouldn't have to bear the brunt of his anger, Blake…" her friend whispered. "We all failed. Let us share the blame."
Blake pried Ilia's from around her and shook her head again. "No," she said resolutely. "Because, unlike you three, he won't kill me." Blake smiled hollowly as her friends paled. It was a small condolence and one that hardly soothed anyone, but it was the truth. She could be beaten, have her name cursed and dragged through the mud, and lose rations or the chance to participate in missions, but Adam would never kill her.
Blake liked to think he wouldn't. He'll be angry, but it's not unreasonable. We need those supplies for our raids. Her hands picked up the reins again and her heels knocked against her horse's sides. With a huff and stomp her steed began trotting down the road again, the gentle bouncing of its gait making the bruises on her thighs ache. And even if he hits me, he's always sorry. He's angry we won't be prepared in time. He doesn't mean it.
Silence was normally a soothing thing. In the waning hours of the evening, as darkness fell over Vale, Blake enjoyed the solitude it brought. She was comfortable in the shadows. There, hidden away despite being so involved, she could think. The darkness gave her time to recollect, consider her options, and find respite, however brief, from the constant toll her life took on her. This evening however would offer no such peace.
Adam was going to be livid. No, he'd be absolutely incensed, and she'd be the one he'd take it out on. Blake doubted the long ride back to camp would do much good to quell her already frayed nerves. It was fortunate they hadn't battled in Alabaster, otherwise what was to come would only be infinitely more painful.
A rueful smile crossed her lips and Blake pulled her cloak tighter. Freeing one hand she pulled her scarf up, concealing most of her face as her eyes stung. She wanted to feel small, to hide away in the shadows. What normally brought her solace now felt threatening. Adam couldn't walk among shadows as she could and yet she felt like he was all around her. Watching her, silently considering how best to punish yet another failure on her part.
There had to be something more she could do. Something to avoid his wrath. Apologizing wouldn't be enough, but there had to be something. Hanging her head and staring listlessly at the empty road before her Blake chewed on the inside of her cheek. She had time, she'd come up with a solution.
/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+/
Blake was used to the beatings. If her parents were alive and saw the way Adam treated her, well, they couldn't have done much to stop him, but they would have been appalled. Bruises healed, cuts mended. Adam would hurt her with his displaced rage, but he'd never inflict serious wounds. Most times he even tended to the wounds he created, apologizing for them repeatedly. She was used to that.
Blake was not used to Adam's silence. Rather than yell or lash out he paced through his tent, moving at a leisurely stroll. For the second time in as many days silence was unsettling, and Blake yearned for something, anything to disrupt it. Odd that she welcomed being yelled at: at least then she'd know what he was thinking then.
Eventually Adam ceased his pacing. Behind his visor she could feel his gaze on her, staring through her. When he came closer Blake withdrew into herself, shoulders raising to conceal her neck on reflex. Leaning down to be eye level with her Blake held still as a hand cupped her cheek, shivering as a thumb stroked just beneath her eye.
"One Magi. You said there was one Magi there, right?"
The calmness juxtaposed his tantrum just seconds earlier. It unnerved her, though Blake did everything she could do conceal that fact. Nodding slowly, she gasped when Adam tore her scarf from her face, grabbing her chin and forcing their eyes to meet.
"The people of Alabaster are powerless. I sent four of you there. It was more a show of power than anything…" Adam frowned and released Blake's chin only to grab her arm. His fingers squeezed a bruise and she couldn't help but wince. "But you were more than capable of fighting a single Magi. So, Blake, why didn't you?"
"I…" Her eyes left his and she searched for an answer that would assuage his anger. "I didn't want to risk the supplies being destroyed," Blake mumbled. "I thought if we fought -"
The Meera gasped when her arm was wrenched Fresh bruises and welts protested as Adam's iron grip tightened further. "I didn't send you there to think, Blake. I sent you there to get supplies. I thought that was an easy enough job, one that even you couldn't manage to screw up." As soon as Adam released his hold Blake cradled her arm to her chest. The Toro sighed and ran a hand through his fiery red hair. "I gave you a second chance and you failed. Why do you keep squandering your chances…?"
Protests died long before they could even reach her lips. Blake's eyes fell and her posture with it, slumping. Adam dropped the scarf into her lap and her hands immediately sought it out, fingers nervously working with the black fabric.
"Blake… Please, tell me, because I'm having trouble understanding." Adam's voice was soft, pleading. He knelt before her and took Blake's hands in his own. Despite the pain they could inflict she noted how soft and warm they were. He sought her eyes and eventually she looked up with a hesitant smile. "I want us to succeed. I want a better life for our people, don't you?"
"Of course I do!" she answered hastily.
"Then why do you keep failing? It doesn't seem like you're making a sincere effort…"
Blake frowned, looking away uncertainly. She had tried, though. She'd gotten close in Galloway only for Hunters to stop her. Then Yang had interfered in Alabaster; their information hadn't said anything concerning a rogue in town. They couldn't have planned for Yang and losing the supplies in the ensuing conflict would have rendered the entire task moot. Even if, logically, Blake knew these things to be true they felt like excuses.
"I'm sorry. I'm trying, I really am!"
"I know you are, Blake. I know." Adam cupped her cheek again and Blake closed her eyes. His lips wrapped around hers and she held still, breath catching in her throat. When her lungs began to protest for air he slowly removed himself, his hand moving to run through her black locks.
"Unfortunately, trying isn't good enough." She froze as fingers gripped her ears and Blake whined in protest. Adam smirked, pinching the sensitive skin and scoring a wince before releasing them. "When I was given command in Vale I chose you as my second. I thought I could rely on you, and yet you've failed me twice now. And your failures haven't been small, either. A noble still lives, and now we're unprepared for our raid."
"Fortunately, I expected this." Adam stood, and Blake hesitated to follow, only doing so once he offered his hand. A full head taller she had to lift her chin to look up at him, smiling weakly as a hand ran along her side. "Which is why I requested help from Sienna. She sent someone over to assist us, and he's done a wonderful job in your place."
Adam had sent for someone else? When? Before Blake could ask, the tent opened behind her and she turned to the man entering. Wearing a clearly stolen burgundy suit, with short cropped, rust-red hair and a trimmed goatee, the man looked far too refined to be in the middle of nowhere with the rest of them. "Yuma…?"
"Sister Blake, it's been far too long," Yuma said, grinning, his voice raspy. Blake offered a slight nod, watching him enter the tent and take a knee before Adam. "It is done, commander."
"It's so nice to have someone competent working with me again." Blake cringed and made an effort to move away only to be dragged back to Adam's side. The hand on her hip tightened its grip, making it clear she was not to move. "You've secured everything, then?"
Yuma nodded. "I convinced the Murans to reroute their caravans to our camp. Sister Trifa and others are acting as their guides, and they should be here within the next few days."
"Perfect. And you'll dispose of them once we have their supplies?"
"Naturally, sir," Yuma answered, grinning.
Blake shivered and looked away. How callously they could treat lives, how indifferent they were, it always unsettled her. Adam mistook her discomfort as a chill and began to rub her side, drawing another unpleasant shiver.
"As for the rest, I believe we're ready for the raid any day now. Once the supplies are in camp and the troops are armed we can march on your orders." Yuma stood, glancing down at himself and frowning. Grabbing the neck of his shirt he pulled and sent buttons flying across the tent. Fine quilted fabric tore and he regarded the ruined article with a shrug, wrinkling his nose. "Stuffy thing… The shirt still reeks of Muran. It's like wearing a pig's skin."
Offended but knowing better than to question Adam, Blake remained silent. She rolled her eyes at Yuma's comment, wondering why he still wore the garments if they smelled so bad. Then she focused on Adam again, silently prodding him to elaborate on 'the raid'. When he made no mention of it she hesitantly tugged on his shirt, cringing as he frowned. "This raid… You still haven't told me much about it."
"Because I'm uncertain whether I can involve you without having it fall apart," Adam answered. The reply made Blake wither and she bit her lip, looking up again when Adam rubbed her hip. "If I do let you come along you're to stay by my side, understood? I'll be relinquishing your usual role to Yuma, and you'll act as my support."
Blake wanted to protest. It was usually her task to sneak behind the enemy and cause disarray; shadow-walking made her uniquely suited for acting as a disruptive force. Yuma could accomplish the same, given they shared a class of spells, but she'd thought her rapport with Adam meant the job was hers.
Instead of arguing however she nodded and smiled. "I won't leave your side for a second, I swear."
"That's a good girl. As for the raid itself…" Adam trailed off and shrugged, smiling. "It's nothing too complicated. We'll be attacking a few towns near Mount Glenn, that's all."
"Towns?" As in plural? Blake frowned and looked past Yuma, out towards the camp she couldn't see. At best they had a few dozen members, maybe just over a hundred. "How many towns? And what's the reason for it? Do they have supplies we need?"
Adam placed a finger over her mouth, removing it once Blake's ears folded in submission. "No supplies. The towns themselves are unimportant."
Blake's brow furrowed as she shifted at Adam's side. "Then what's the reason…?"
Yuma scoffed loudly and shook his head. "I can see why you're disappointed in her, commander. She's clueless." Blake shot the man a glare and he chose to ignore it, though he did smile before addressing the question. "Isn't it obvious? We're not after what they have. We want their people dead. It's to make a statement, nothing more."
"You can't be serious. You mean we're to kill all those people?!" Blake paled and turned to Adam, grabbing his shirt again. "Adam, please tell me you're kidding!"
Blake winced as her wrist was wrenched, hand pried from cloth. Adam pulled her arm and kept her close even as she unwisely tried to pull away. He gripped her jaw to keep her facing him for good measure. "The people in those towns have robbed and killed our brothers and sisters. They're only getting what they deserve."
"What will more violence solve?" Opal had been right when she'd said their organization was changing. Bloodshed begets bloodshed, and neither side was going to win in the end. Blake wished Adam to see that obvious truth. Maybe he did. Maybe he simply didn't care anymore.
"The only way the kingdoms ever respond to us, ever listen to us, is through violence. We've tried other means and they've all failed. If they refuse to gives us any quarter by peaceful protest," Adam shrugged, then grinned maliciously. "Then we'll show them the fault in their choices."
"We are not the ones to blame here, Belladonna," Yuma warned. "Our people have tried and tried to take our rightful place as society. Murans see us as animals. All races are below them and are treated like worms."
"Yet some races have profited, haven't they? Ydrans have taken to licking their boots and eating whatever scraps their Muran masters will throw them. A once proud, nomadic peoples, reduced to spineless wretches serving another." Adam sneered, arm tightening its grip around Blake in Adam's anger. "Dimurans are no better. Every tribe we've tried to enlist has wanted no part in our movement. And those who live among the Murans are content to be peddlers and craftsmen for them, caring nothing for the plight of others."
"You can't force people to fight, Adam." Blake shrank back when glared at, feeling two sets of eyes boring through her. Somehow, she kept her composure, stifling nervousness and standing as tall as she could muster. "Sienna has said so herself. Those who are with us will fight, and the others will go ignored. We can't blame anyone but the Murans for our lot in life."
"Complacency is cooperation. Anyone who allows the status quo to continue is every bit as guilty," Adam retorted. He finally let go of Blake, pushing her aside and heading for the exit. Yuma followed close behind, smirking at the Meera as she stood alone. "It falls to us, races of people scorned and discarded, to take up the fight," he continued. Holding open the flap of the tent Adam glanced back, smiling as he placed his free hand on his weapon. "And before you try to argue it's against Sienna's rules… Who do you imagine orchestrated these raids?"
Silence. As soon as Adam and Yuma departed Blake was left in complete, unnerving quiet, save for the distant voices beyond the tent walls. She was beginning to hate silence.
Left alone as she was Blake could only stare into vacant space as the two men left. She could accept robbery as part of their life. When no trader would give them the time of day, much less their business, what other choice was there? She'd even accepted the necessity of killing nobles after no small degree of reluctance. After all, how was society to ever change when those in power enforced injustice?
What good comes of slaughtering villages? Blake pondered. There was none. Bloodshed for the sake of bloodshed. There was no equality to be found in that. Adam doesn't want equality. Not anymore, her mind chided her. You've known that. The entire White Fang wants superiority.
Superiority by killing their enemies? Blake shambled to leave the tent, wincing and shielding her eyes as the sun's rays assaulted her eyes. Like the night before she felt incredibly exposed, the brightness of the day out of place. How many would die from these attacks? How would the Church respond? More death. More with hunts, searching for White Fang members. Innocents on both sides would die and for what? A small sense of grim satisfaction?
Did the others know about this? She needed to find them. This couldn't stand. Maybe she could convince Adam to stand down, to cancel the raids, or if nothing else, only kill a handful of people. Wiping out an entire town wasn't proving anything other than how ruthless their kind were. They would be justifying the slew of names Murans spat at Faunus.
If all else failed, if Blake couldn't convince Adam to stand down, then… What? Did she try to stop them? Blake wandered through camp aimlessly, coming to a halt when she realized she'd walked right to Opal's tent. The old woman was sat out front, needles in her hand, working on fixing another member's torn shirt. Noticing Blake's arrival, she smiled warmly, nodding in greeting before returning to her work.
Fighting Adam was tantamount to suicide. There were people here who she didn't want to see put at such risk. If Adam couldn't be convinced to stop - and Blake knew it a fool's errand to even try, then there was only one option left to her.
She needed to find the others. Opal, Ilia, everyone who showed even the remotest sense of loyalty not to Adam, but to her. Opposing Adam might be suicide incarnate but so was this new plan of hers. Blake gave Opal a wavering smile, nodding before turning and hurrying towards her friend's tents.
Well, it took 9 chapters, but we're FINALLY getting the plot proper rolling. Someday I'll find the balance between world-building and pacing!
A few new things were mentioned this chapter, so just to add a tiny bit of clarification, and for a bit of trivia knowledge:
- Talpa refers to a race of Chameleon-like people, with a natural ability to camouflage oneself. It's also Latin for "Chameleon"!
- And yes, this means I've had to research particular species and use their Genus/A species for each canon-Faunus in order to assign a race. It's... Daunting. Maybe I'll figure out a way to insert a guide of sorts as an aid, because there's a LOT of smaller-population races in Name.
- Yang asked about "wards" this chapter. You'll all get more of that in 10, so I won't explain more of that just yet.
- This first encounter, the major first conflict, is obviously going to be White Fang centric. It is NOT the primary antagonist of the story, the White Fang, just the vehicle to get things going. Hope that helps anyone who's a bit overtired of seeing so much of it in canon (Or is it too little? I don't know!)