Hope everyone is doing okay with all that is going on in the world! You'd think that being home so often would be more conducive to my writing but nope, drafts are sitting around for ages despite my "free time".
Ah well! Life goes on and so does our story, so without further ado...
How did people manage to sit in one place all day? Not everyone enjoyed going out and about. Heck, people like Ren could probably live in one room all day if they were made to. Blake too, provided she had a book to keep her occupied.
Ruby? She just didn't get it. While the servants insisted she was a guest she felt a lot more like a prisoner than an honorable visitor. It didn't help that the lanky man from the Church, Witch or something, was being the absolute worst a person could be. Maybe it was knowing how poorly Yang was being treated that made her sedentary lifestyle so miserable.
At least she got the potion to Yang. Ruby huffed, blowing bangs from her face as she stared up at the cream yellow canopy of her four-post bed. She'd taken to imagining shapes and images in the canvas as of late. She saw a mountain range, rolling fields, and for some reason a dog chasing a sheep.
A cloudy sky. A horse or two. A face, twisted like one of those weird drama masks, half-smiling, half-grimacing. Oh, and a duck!
She was bored. Tentatively hopeful now that Yang was getting her medicine but beyond bored.
Wallace or whatever had promised that she'd be brought down for Yang's treatment. No one had come to collect her yet so that meant Yang was still okay, right? Well, as okay as someone barricaded in a cell and deprived of their magic could be.
Ruby itched at the choker around her neck, grimaced, and tugged at the leather piece. It refused to stretch, and her nails dug into her own flesh, incapable of slipping beneath. Tight enough to remain fixed but not so much that it suffocated her. She couldn't get to her magic either now, not after her escape attempt a day earlier. Or was it two? Heck, she couldn't even tell now! Between the bedroom and bathroom, keeping track of time was a gargantuan task in itself.
"I hope that potion works…"
Yang hadn't specifically said what it would do beyond 'help her'. Or ruin her trousers. Apothecary wasn't something she'd studied much in training and she couldn't begin to guess what the potion was meant to do. Heal her? Make her magic extra explosive? Cure a hangover?
What if the potion didn't work though? What if Walter knew what it was going to do, stopped Peach before she could reach Yang, and took it away? What if Yang was punished for it? Then Yang would be in worse condition than she already was and Ruby might not be able to see her sister!
Yang's going to have to go through whatever horrible stuff William has in store alone! I can't let them do that! Nervous energy filled her and Ruby jumped out of bed, chewing her lower lip as she paced about the bedroom. She knows I wouldn't leave her alone, right? But what if they don't let me leave?! How can I sneak out again? Maybe… Maybe I could get one of the servants to help! But then they'll be punished…
This was why she'd made a habit of looking for shapes in cloth. Anything was better than letting her mind, and her anxiety, run wild. She chewed on her lip until she broke the skin, licked droplets of blood away, and took to gnawing on her knuckle instead.
She… She would figure something out. Maybe she could trick them into removing the choker somehow? One burst of speed was all she'd need to get away from them. She knew where Yang was being held, vaguely, and could reach her long before any of the Hunters could. As for what she'd actually do once there? Grab the nearest object and start swinging, probably.
Hardly a fool proof plan but it was all she had.
On another pass by her bed a knock at the door made her jump, gasping and clutching her hands to her chest. Was it Wyatt? Did he somehow know her traitorous thoughts and had come to punish her? Well fine, she'd take whatever he had to dole out so long as it kept him from hurting Yang.
That didn't mean Ruby was going down without a fight though. Her eyes darted around the bedroom in search of something to use for defense. What would work against a Hunter? Not much. Nothing she could get inside this room actually. She settled for a candlestick atop the dresser, clutching the bronze piece in both hands and shuffling towards the door, toes dragging along plush carpeting. Another knock and Ruby held her breath, reaching for the doorknob then jumping back when the knob jostled.
"Miss Rose?"
Oh, she knew that voice! Not the bad guy! "Come in, Wallace!" she called with a smile. "Uh… I mean… Yes?"
The door swung open and the tired man sighed, then fixed a perplexed stare on Ruby noticing what she held. "Miss Rose, pray tell why you're clutching a candlestick like you're brandishing a blade?"
"Huh? Oh, heh, this? I was just, uh…" I totally wasn't planning on hitting you with it if that's what you're thinking! Ruby twisted the stick and smiled. "I was… Playing! Pretending to be a knight! Hehe, I have to do something to entertain myself here!"
Nonplussed, the butler entered the room and extended a hand, taking the candlestick and replacing it. "Quite. Terribly sorry to spoil your fun then but you have a visitor."
Both of them turned to the door and neither saw anyone there. Was… Was the person invisible? Maybe they had invisibility magic. Or jeez, was Wallace taking pity on her and pretending there was someone there? Ruby felt a heat of indignation creep to her cheeks. She hadn't had imaginary friends since she was five! She could appreciate his trying to cheer her up -
"Miss Rosalind? Are you coming?"
But she wasn't a little girl anymore! Oh, there was someone there. A short, plump girl with a cute-ish freckled face. Kind of… What was a word Weiss would use? The girl was clearly of noble birth. Dress too clean, face free of blemishes, and obviously well-fed. A few words came to mind and none of them were exactly nice.
"Miss Rose, please allow me to introduce Lady Caroline Rosalind. She is Lady Lavender's niece and will be staying with us for a short while."
Aha, so she was nobility! Score. Although now Ruby wasn't sure why someone like that was here visiting her, and judging by the uncertain, almost regretful look on the girl's face neither was she. While Caroline shuffled in place and refused to look at her Ruby did her best to maintain a polite smile. It didn't take long for her to begin fidgeting awkwardly, however.
"She has requested to meet you," Wallace explained. At least someone in the room had the sense to speak. "She has been appraised of you and your sister's status and I believe wishes to express her condolences." The aged man bowed slightly at the waist and Ruby swore she heard something creak, like an unoiled door hinge. "But of course, I would never assume to speak for the young lady herself. If you'd be so kind, Miss Rosalind…?"
The girl fumbled with one of her sleeves before gasping, eyes wide as she looked up, like she'd been roused from a stupor. "Oh, me, sorry. My mind is elsewhere right now."
"With all due respect, my lady, you did request to come here."
"Yes, and we are here, aren't we? I'll get to speaking to her when I'm well and ready, thank you!"
"By your leave." Ruby wondered how the man could keep a neutral face while he bowed to the freckled girl, not bothering to look her way once as he left the room. "I will be outside for you. Simply knock when you are finished, and I'll return you to your aunt."
"Thank you, Wallace. That will be all," Caroline said, more softly than before. Polite, even.
Ruby would have had to share some words with the girl otherwise! Nowhere near as articulate as Weiss' verbal dismantlings were.
More hesitant, probably, and definitely less-than convincing.
Oh jeez, now Caroline was staring at her. She needed to say something! Ruby's mouth flapped a few times and her hands grasped at her nightgown, bunching up the lavender garment while shuffling her feet. Why did she look amused? Had she just come here to watch her squirm? Because… Because she was absolutely doing that, but that was rude!
Why wasn't she saying anything?
Come on brain, save me here! Ruby's eyes worked over Caroline once and sought something, anything to talk about. Gloves! "It m-must be cold outside, huh…?"
"I… Beg your pardon?"
"The gloves! You're wearing gloves so… So, I figured it's cold!"
"But… it's July?"
"Uh-huh," Ruby agreed, smiling like a complete buffoon.
The other girl stared at her again for an agonizingly long eternity. Or maybe it was all of five seconds. Ruby's mouth twitched and she shifted her weight between her feet. Say something! Anything!
Well, laughter was kind of like saying something, wasn't it? It was a sound at least, sounds were good! Except for coughing, wheezing, crying - unless it was happy crying. Most sounds were good. Some. Why was she still laughing? There was a peculiar likeness to the sound that made Ruby pause for thought. It was lower than what she was used to, strained just a bit, like their laugh was underused, but the… What was the word for it? Cadence! It was similar to Weiss'. Or maybe that was just her projecting.
"F-Forgive me," Caroline stammered, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath. "That was just funny."
"Oh, um, thank you?" There was a smile again, a weird one. The kind Yang used to give when she was getting ready to spring a surprise on you. The 'I know more than you do' sort of smile. "Uh… So, you… You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, I did." The freckled face twisted into a complicated mask, lips pursed, and small button nose wrinkled while her hands wrung together. "I… I heard about your sister, Ru… Miss Rose. I wanted to say how sorry I was."
"Uh, y-yeah, thanks. She'll be okay though!"
Another puzzling look, a not-quite smile that hardly hid anger behind it. "So I've heard. It must be scary, being here."
Ruby shook her head perhaps too quickly at that. "Not at all! I have a comfy bed, and I get good food, and the servants here are nice!" Servants, not Hunters. "I… I like it here!"
"Do you?" Caroline walked past her, appraising the room as she went. Running her hand along the dresser, opening the closet, examining the two dozen or so gowns, robes, dresses, and undergarments hung within. Her face twisted into a sneer that was wiped away instantly, but Ruby caught a glimpse of it.
"My… Aunt," she said with practiced measure. "Enjoys the finer things, I suppose." She nodded as though reaffirming that obvious fact with herself. "I'm glad that you're being treated well though."
"Uh… Yeah, thanks?"
"And your sister?"
There was a tricky topic. Ruby tried to look as upset by the conversation as she could in hopes Caroline wasn't going to press. When her face fell and her smile waned it wasn't difficult to look as despondent as she felt.
"She's, um…"
Alive, although there was no telling how long that might last. If Winston had his way then Yang would be worm food already. She still didn't know why he was so fixated on hating her. Why, when Ozpin himself apparently wanted Yang cured, did Wilson insist on Yang being killed? Or did Ozpin really feel the same way? The thought of her boss wanting Yang dead was… Distressing, to say the least.
Ruby gasped when Caroline drew closer, her eyes widening as arms wrapped around her. Unsure how to react she left hers rigid against her sides, stiff. The shorter girl hugged her for only a moment and while it felt nice to get some kind of physical comfort it was also weird. Like, really weird.
Who hugged complete strangers? Well, Nora did, albeit that sometimes involved suplexing them shortly afterwards. A noblewoman hugging a Hunter though? The peculiar pained smile Caroline wore as she stepped back only made the gesture even more befuddling.
"I, uh…"
"Sorry, I…" At least both of them seemed to be completely out of sorts now. "I have a sister as well, older, like yours." Ruby couldn't quite smile back and instead nodded. "I haven't seen her in a very long time and… I can't imagine losing her."
"Oh, well, um, that's okay! Sisters are important! Especially older sisters! They teach us things, and they keep us safe, and they're only our best friends growing up!" Ruby's eyes prickled and she felt her voice catch. She cleared her throat and rubbed at her face. "Yang's… I didn't see her for years, she was… Away. And now she's finally back and then she got…"
"Sick?"
Ruby nodded, sniffling. "Y-Yeah, that. They, um… They said she might not make it. I can't, I won't lose her. Not again. But what can I do?!"
Weiss always made out all nobles to be self-serving, entitled people who never showed an ounce of sympathy for anyone else. Lady Lavender was an exception. Then again, the woman was so air-headed that Ruby wasn't sure she was capable of animosity. That would require being able to concentrate on something for longer than five seconds.
Ouch. Weiss really is rubbing off on me…
Caroline seemed genuinely upset by her plight. She didn't know the girl whatsoever, and she didn't know her either, but Ruby felt an innate connection. Maybe it was because they both had older sisters? No amount of Lien would change the bond that sisters shared, right?
She wasn't sure what she was hoping Caroline might say. Maybe some words that would save Yang. Maybe she would offer to help somehow. Nobles had money and money talked. Maybe Warner would give up on his weird vendetta against Yang and let them leave for the right amount? It was bribery and bribery was explicitly against the Church's rules but then so was torture. At least Ruby was pretty sure it was.
"You can pray, I suppose."
Oh. Ruby's whole being deflated in an instant. She smiled, eyes welling up as she collapsed back onto the bed. "Yeah… I'll… Pray…" she whispered meekly.
"The gods are wont to ignore us, I'll admit." That was an understatement. Ruby looked up as a hand settled on her shoulder, sniffling, wiping away tears while Caroline smiled at her. "But try it. Sometimes they do answer our prayers."
"S-Sure, I'll… I'll give it a shot."
"Please do. And… Ruby? Be strong. You'll both make it out of this just fine."
"I, uh…" Ruby wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat. By the time she looked up again Caroline was already moving for the door. "Wait!" she called, jumping back to her feet. "Do I… Um… Have we met before? You remind me of someone!"
The girl didn't turn, nor did she respond right away. Caroline's shoulders squared and she shook her head, muttering something Ruby couldn't quite make out. She acted like Weiss in some ways, yet not in others. Except Weiss would never, ever tell her to pray. She'd sooner expect her BFF to suggest she beg for a stranger's kindness than pray.
"We haven't, actually. I just heard your story and was touched, that's all."
"Okay, well, I have a friend! She's really awesome, and smart, and uh… Well, I think you'd like her!" Ruby smiled hesitantly and inched closer. She didn't realize how desperate she was to chat with someone, anyone else until Caroline was on her way out. "Maybe when Yang and I leave, I could introduce you two? I think you'd get along!"
"Does this friend of yours have a name, Miss Rose?"
"Well yeah, everyone has a name, duh!" Ruby laughed at the absurd question. Oh wait, she was asking for the name, right. "Her name is Weiss! She's awesome!"
Caroline turned back to her with another unplaceable smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes, small, halfhearted dimples at the corners. "Weiss? As in… Weiss Schnee!"
"You know her?!"
"I do." The freckled girl sighed, glanced back at the door and tapped her foot. "Weiss Schnee, correct?"
"Ah, she doesn't like being called that usually. Just Weiss!"
"I do know of her." Caroline shook her head. "And… And I'd like absolutely nothing to do with her. She's a bastard, after all."
Ruby's jaw dropped and she stared after Caroline as she left, feeling as though the whole floor had been pulled out from beneath her. How could she say that? Caroline had never met Weiss before, she couldn't say that! Tears returned, partly angry, mostly stress, somewhat fueled by betrayal. She marched to the door and banged her fist against it, hoping the other girl was close enough to hear her.
"Weiss is incredible! If that's how you're going to be then… I don't want anything to do with you!" she shouted, laying her head against the door and gritting her teeth. "Apologize right now!"
Caroline didn't. Hells, she wasn't sure the girl had even heard her shout. Ruby remained by the door, left alone with her labored breathing, sniffling and trying to keep herself from crying again. People didn't know Weiss, they just assumed what she was like. Well, she'd not let someone drag her friend through the mud like that. It didn't matter that Weiss wasn't here to hear Ruby defend her. No one was going to talk poorly about her friend like that!
Yet what could she do about it besides scream and shout? Pray? Ruby stepped back from the door and wiped her nose on her gown's sleeve. That wasn't going to solve anything. They didn't have time to wait around for some divine intervention. Yang had her medicine and it would help, she hoped, but she was reluctant to put everything on that one plan. They needed something else.
Like hells she knew what that was though. Frustrated, Ruby huffed and clawed at her choker again, trying to pry it from her throat. She'd get it off somehow and bust Yang out of her cell.
She wouldn't wait on some gods to save them. Herself and Yang were all they needed.
/+/+/+/+/+/
Damn it. DAMN IT!
Weiss had been so close to coming out and revealing herself. Hells, she may as well have with her vague admissions. Did Lady Rosalind have a sister? Someone had to have been monitoring Ruby. No way would they leave a Hunter like her unsupervised. The choker blocked magic, right? She'd never seen her friend wear such a thing so that had to be it. They knew Ruby was a threat and looked to keep her wings clipped.
Now, Weiss had only just gotten to the estate and may have already blown her cover.
She hadn't been the one to tell Ruby to do something as futile as pray. That was Caroline, her cover. A fake. Yet for the moment she was Caroline. And so what if she could have blown her cover? Ruby needed her right now. Yang needed her. To hell with discretion! She should march back to the room and reveal herself to Ruby then and there. Between the two of them they could… They could…
Get themselves killed.
Following Wallace in a daze she stared at the carpets as they walked, hands clenching and relaxing, grinding her teeth in indecision. How many Wardens were here? More than two, certainly, and more than she and Ruby could handle alone. Then there was the staff, innocent, and that was to say nothing of the risk it could pose to Galloway if a battle broke out. Nothing was keeping Grimm from appearing and potentially spilling into the city itself.
"Lady Rosalind?"
Could they even save Ruby and Yang without risking Grimm? Did the estate have wards in place? Did Galloway? What if she was already compromised and someone was on their way to collect her? She had no way of contacting the others, no way of relaying where Yang was being held; she still had no idea where they were keeping Yang.
Maybe she should speak to Lady Lavender about it, and request to see Yang herself. She could free Yang and between the two of them reach Ruby easily enough. If the three of them worked together then maybe…
Gods, if we only had Blake! She could help us escape easily! Weiss stopped in her tracks, gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. Her head throbbed and she hissed, rubbing at her temples to ease the tension. Why did Ozpin send her away for a rescue mission? Does he know? He has to know. Why else would he separate us?
"Lady Rosalind?!"
Breath leaving in a startled gasp she stepped back, staring at the concerned face of the estate's butler. Wallace, showing the first real emotion she'd seen, removed a cloth from his pocket and offered it to her.
"You're rather pale, young lady. Are you unwell?" he asked. "You didn't catch something from that child, did you?"
That wasn't how illness worked at all. It took time to transmit, incubated, then and only then would symptoms appear. They'd been told as much when learning about miasma poisoning during training, and again when instructed on Spellcast Sickness. Was she ill? Perhaps, but not in the traditional, physical sense.
Weiss accepted the cloth and wiped her face, breaths coming in sharp, strained gasps. Her headache had begun to subside, and she managed a faint smile, offering the cloth back. "I'm fine, just… Lightheaded. Maybe I'm more exhausted from the journey than I thought…"
"Understandable. It must have been a strenuous journey, after all." Wallace, offering his hand, nodded when Weiss shook her head. "In that case why don't I show you to your quarters? My Lady will understand if you need your rest."
Resting was a waste of time. It was also an excuse for her to spend some time alone to think. Figure out just how in the hell she was going to make any of this work. Nodding, she waited for Wallace to take the lead again and follow suit. Down another indecipherable corridor, spartan in its decor, with plush red carpeting, a scattering of paintings, and little else. There was a solution to this, she was certain of it. She just needed to find Yang's location and from there work on an escape plan. Perhaps avoid combat altogether if she could.
This would be so much easier if we had Blake's talents…
Weiss paused as they neared a window and chanced a look outside. Servants scurried across the grounds with shovels, rakes, and other gardening utensils in hand. Tending to an overfilled garden bed, one of the many dotting the estate's grounds.
Then came the Wardens, the real reason Weiss became fixated. Three of them, one large, dwarfing the other two. A man with short black hair and neatly trimmed beard, the others two young women, twins. She had never seen any of them before. They continued past the servants, past a shed, and even as Weiss pressed herself against the glass to try and track their movements, they soon disappeared behind the estate itself.
"My Lady, are you coming?"
"Yes, on my way."
It could be nothing. A simple tour of the grounds, although she doubted that. They had to be going somewhere. Lingering for a moment longer Weiss pried herself from the window, sending one last glance outward. She swore she saw another white cloak lingering outside but she couldn't be certain.
/+/+/+/+/+/
An uneventful journey to an unremarkable township, that had been the last few days of Blake's life. Travel by horseback, stop every evening rather than ride through, then continue at daybreak. For a mission deemed urgent they traveled without haste, seeing fit to dine whenever the need arose, or even when it didn't. With her experiences as a Hunter limited as they were - her only real mission had been her unorthodox task with Weiss, she couldn't say whether this was normal or not. It felt piddling if not outright negligent to take so long but none of her companions made a fuss and so neither did she.
Vale's landscapes bled together in an indecipherable cluster of valleys and hills, fields and groves. The occasional Grimm they encountered were less than an inconvenience, batted away with weapons alone, magic saved for extreme circumstances.
More than once she wondered what the reason was for their leisurely pace. A lack of caring, the cynic in her mused. Perhaps a lack of information? Caution then, although traveling with four other Hunters made caution seem frivolous. What was going to pose a threat to them, trained as they were? One evening after stopping for respite she'd approached their 'leader' who was merely the eldest member of their troupe and given seniority for that reason alone. A man whose olive skin sported a dozen scars, one of which stretched from his collarbone, hidden just beneath his tunic, to his left temple. She knew nothing of the man save for his name and his weapon; Vincent, a senior Hunter, and a man who fancied a curved war scythe not unlike Ruby's, albeit straighter. Her eyes drifted over the weapon, scuffed steel kissed a light red by the flames, before settling on Vincent's expectant stare.
"Are we close?"
"Close is relative, Blake. We're closer than we were when at the capital, but no closer than if we were right outside the town's borders."
Exasperated, her ears folded, and her eyes narrowed. "Is that a yes or a no?"
Vincent waved her off, leaning forward to prod the fire with a stick. "Relative," he repeated, eyes flickering with the fire, sparkling like polished emeralds. "You should eat. Won't be time for breakfast tomorrow."
"And why is that?"
"Travel."
She waited for more, crossed her arms, and loomed over the hunched man. No amount of patience was going to deliver more information and Blake stepped off after a long while, shaking her head and returning to her own spot among the group. Away from the group, really. Past the twins, Ned and Cyril, stocky men who each wielded matching battleaxes, and well past Hera. Their eyes met and Hera sneered at her, mouthing 'animal' among other unpleasantries. Blake rolled her eyes and sought some semblance of peace away from the fires, albeit not before stealing herself a strip of smoked beef.
The last few days had been much the same. Ask questions, receive only the vaguest of answers. Tip-toe around Hera who spat upon the ground which she walked, avoid Ned and Cyril who, well more restrained, made little secret of their displeasure.
Vincent wasn't much better but at least he'd speak to her. Blake was certain that was more out of necessity than want, however, and wouldn't press the man for conversation. Once this mission was over with she'd never have to see them again and that would be that. No reason to endear herself to anyone.
Her dinner scant and her sleeping accommodations more so - she had no sleeping roll unlike the rest, fatigue finally claimed her and she drifted off to a listless slumber. No sooner had her eyes closed was she roused, squinting against the sun's early glare. Satiating her thirst with water from a nearby stream she remounted, drew up her scarf, and set off with the others. Mixed with the calls of birds and the chirping of crickets, frogs, and insects harrying rider and horse both, the hooves clapped against the caked earth like blows of thunder. So loud were the blows that Blake fancied them to be war drums, their rhythmic beating signaling the impending battle to come. The analogy was apt all things considered.
Alabaster wasn't difficult to find, in no small part thanks to the road signs, but also due to her familiarity with it. Brief as her visit had been it had only been a month or so since she'd last been there. Indistinct as Vale's countryside could be she recognized enough landmarks to lead the way. A rock formation vaguely resembling a chapel rose from the center of a field, the highest point jagged, dark stone turned pale green with moss and vines sprouting along its edges.
A massive wych elm whose trunk split into three separate trees, branching out to form an impressively expansive canopy whose furthest limbs bent beneath their own weight, forming a leafy dome. As the sun rose further into the sky and the brisk air warmed, they reached a long abandoned watchtower whose walls were split by vines, the top third leaning precariously to the right.
For as much of Vale that was protected even more was left to rot. One functional guard post had been encountered in the last day and that had been just outside of a larger settlement. The rest was left to chance, or as a more pious individual might claim, Blake thought bitterly, to the will of the gods.
With how people suffered outside the cities she wasn't sure the gods gave two damns about them.
They continued to ride, five figures mere dots against the sweeping hills and rolling fields, horses pushed to their upper limits. They were making haste now unlike before, she realized, instructed to move faster as the morning waned and the afternoon took hold, sun bearing directly down and heating their backs.
A single stop to let the horses feed and drink from a nearby pond was all they were given. Blake took the time to check her daggers for imperfections. Running a gloved hand along the edge she felt the bite of steel, held the blade closer for inspection and, upon finding no issues, sheathed them across her chest. She wandered away from camp briefly to relieve herself and returned to find the group waiting for her, Vincent at the helm now, his pale blonde hair tied back in a warrior's tail glaringly bright in the sunlight.
"We're not far now. We're going to continue down the main road. I want you to go ahead, Blake, see if you can find anything."
Her foot lingered in the stirrup, hands on her saddle, raising an eyebrow at the elder Hunter. "Alone?"
"You're best suited for the task," Vincent said.
"And these mongrels are your own," Hera added with a sneer. She pulled on reins and her horse rounded on Blake, gesturing to her own head. "You'll hear them better, after all, and your expertise is being a cowardly sneak, isn't it?"
"Your magic is better suited to hiding and you're far less cumbersome than any of us in our armors," the scarred Hunter reiterated, shooting a warning look at Hera. "Besides, you may recognize some of those there. If we can learn what we're up against it will make this all the easier."
In other words, they wanted to try and gather information. Information, Blake noted as she climbed into her saddle, that they should have already. "Understood, sir."
Vincent didn't smile, she wasn't sure the man knew how, but he offered a nod of assent. Perhaps even gratitude, although Blake wasn't expecting anything of the sort. Not from these people. He waited until Blake spurred her horse forward before turning his own, making a gesture for the others to gather around him.
"We'll wait by the bridge leading into town!" he shouted after her. "One hour! That's all I'll give you!"
A timeline? Fine, it shouldn't take her that long to reach Alabaster, let alone sneak into the town. Reluctant as she felt her horse was even more disinclined to continue, whinnying and kicking as she pulled on its reins. A firm kick to its side and it trotted along, then galloped at her insistence. Wind slapped her and she leaned forward as her hair whipped up wildly. Breathable as it was her cloth and leather garb meant the wind cooled her heated skin, evaporating sweat droplets and leaving her pleasantly chilled as she raced ahead.
Trees sprang up more frequently, and more tellingly, boundless forests reduced to little more than a collection of stumps appeared along the roadside. Alabaster was nearby, its mills likely filled to the brim with logs and lumber, workers caked in sawdust and sweat. Or it would be if the town wasn't under siege, according to their reports.
Peculiar then how easily she was able to approach the settlement. At the bridge Vincent had mentioned she stopped to let the horse catch its breath, straining her ears for any indication of fighting. Beneath her a river flowed, splashing against the walls of the structure and lapping at the banks, spat out somewhere upstream from the churning wheel of the mill. Coercing the horse to be silent by rubbing its neck she closed her eyes and listened, swiveling her ears to pick up the most minute of sounds. The croak of a frog, rustling leaves in the wind, and the occasional snort of her steed. The creak of her leather riding chaps whenever she shifted, the frequent bird call or faint beating of wings.
For a town under siege it was remarkably quiet.
Before her feet hit the ground, she had a dagger in hand. Ahead of them the gates of Alabaster stood, sealed and sporting no signs of forced entry. Her eyes scanned the ramparts for signs of life, and upon finding none, she eased her horse forward.
"Wait here," she commanded gently as she guided the steed off the road, down into a low spot where it could freely graze. Obscured somewhat from view, she hoped, as a hasty escape on foot was much more difficult than one on horseback, she left her horse there and climbed back up the slope.
As she drew closer to the walls, she kept her ears on a swivel, eyes flickering between the growth to either side of the road and the walkways above.
No movements. No creaking boards, no rustling of chain or even hushed whispers. Had Alabaster already been taken? There were no signs of fighting and she doubted the residents would have given over their homes without a fight. They weren't combatants from what she recalled but they were plenty bigoted, enough that they'd offer some resistance.
Yet as Blake stood beside the wall and placed a hand upon a broad log, she pressed her ear to it and listened. Nothing. No sounds of anyone milling about inside. Had they evacuated then? Pursing her lips she stepped back and twirled the dagger in her hand, deliberating.
"Fuck…" They needed information and there was clearly something wrong here. They had one job, check on Alabaster and drive out any invaders, persons or otherwise. Yet if there were none…
Her hand pressed flat against the logs again and Blake closed her eyes. Letting her magic flow freely she felt through the shadows, invisible tendrils snaking their way along darkened surfaces. In her mind's eye she could almost picture their path, these snakes weaving their way through uncharted territory. The intermittent barriers were spots were sunlight were strongest, she knew, and where her magic would struggle to manifest. She diverted around them and followed the shadows until she found a place where they were darkest; the overhang of a roof. Her magic flowed more strongly, and she took a deep breath, stepping forward and disappearing into the wall itself.
Accustomed to the sudden loss of senses she rode the spell without so much as a gasp, waiting patiently for everything to return to her. Like someone standing too swiftly she felt a fleeting surge of vertigo, taking another deep breath as she let it pass, lungs filling with fresh air. From nothingness she heard boards creak as her feet set down atop the wall, hair falling against her back. Letting the shadows conceal her she eased her eyes open, squinting briefly against the light before taking stock of her immediate surroundings, two amber orbs alone peering through the darkness.
No one. No signs of fighting, no disturbances. No homes were damaged, no marks on any of the roads. How could that be? Blake eased off her spell and crouched, creeping to the ledge and checking everywhere she could from her perch. A nearby well seemed untouched; two empty pails left beside it. A wagon with crates sat outside of a shop without a beast to pull it along, the containers notably untouched.
The main road split into several smaller ones and fanned out like branches diverting from a trunk. More homes, undisturbed, more shops left standing, no signs of ransacking or pillaging. If the White Fang had in fact attacked Alabaster, then there would be some signs of occupation. People lounging about, buildings defaced as a petty show of defiance, or hells, bodies in the streets.
Gruesome as the latter was Blake would almost have taken that as a sign that the organization had indeed been through the town.
Yet there was nothing.
No one.
Only her and the empty shell of a town.
Did she go back and report this? Blake lowered herself to one knee, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek as she drummed her fingers on her thigh. They needed to know, surely. Yet something didn't sit right about any of this. The White Fang had been reported as converging on Alabaster, no doubt seeing recompense for their botched extortion; she had taken part in that personally and had assumed that was why she'd been assigned to this.
How idiotic. Peering over the outer wall she watched the road for movement and found none. As to be expected, she had a large lead over the others. She could take her horse and run but that would mean taking the road and riding right into them again. Not an option.
Flee into the woods? There could be more Hunters waiting for her within, anticipating that. Swinging her legs over the edge she heaved and vaulted down, rolling on impact and making an immediate jaunt towards one of the shops. She tested its handle, found it unlocked, and not before checking the sides of the building did she step into it. Various assortments of handcrafted goods were left on display, save for a shelf that had been stripped of its contents.
Cutting across the room she went behind the counter and crouched down, running a hand along the shelves inside. When she found a lockbox within, she pried it open with her dagger and grimaced, then sneered, tossing the container aside. It clattered to the ground and laid open; its lack of contents laid bare. No Lien or belongings of personal value.
They were evacuated. Someone told them to leave ahead of… What? Not the White Fang attack. Gods, she'd been such a damned idiot! Blake stormed back out of the shop and into the street, checking the adjacent roads for any signs of life. Why use a town though? What for?
Why send her to an apparently empty town? She knew the answer before she'd even finished asking herself.
Guilt. They had to have known, or at least suspected, she'd feel guilty for what could have befallen the residents here. They'd used that to make her come back, foolishly, in the company of four veteran Hunters.
A small part of her wanted to write it off as paranoia, as a panicked, hysterical reach, a conclusion come to and borne of a history of betrayal and worry.
Hells, she wanted that to be the case but as she roamed the nearby streets and found other homes and shops in similar states, abandoned but otherwise untouched, it didn't seem likely. If they'd had enough time to evacuate the residents, enough warning, they'd have other Hunters closer to the town intercept the White Fang.
Cursing, Blake hurried to the gates to bar them closed. She didn't need to reach them to see the heavy bar used to barricade them was missing. Getting inside would be easy and there would be little to keep the four Hunters from searching for her.
Take to the woods, or hide?
Those bastards. She stalked to the storehouse, the same one where she'd met Yang, and began to tear through containers.
Food, no. Tools, no. Ah, clothing! Blake pulled a collection of shirts and garments out, then snatched a lamp from the walls, carrying her collection back to the gatehouse.
The clothes were laid out in a trail, oil dumped here and there for fuel, then sat by a wall, peering around the corner, while her hands worked at removing the glass casing on the lamp. With the wick free and exposed she drew her second dagger and held the blades over the wick, ready to create sparks.
She'd rather be paranoid than caught unawares. Rather look like a fool than wander into a trap. As if she hadn't already.
Afraid to breathe, to make so much as a sound, she pursed her lips and leaned against the wall, hands steady.
Now she just had to wait. One hour, unless that had been just lip service. She supposed she'd find out soon enough.
So, full disclosure here: I'm well aware that Blake kind of went from 0 to 100 here and her reaction may seem, well, a bit much. She has reason to be paranoid though and this only cements those reasons.
And also yes, her sections are kind of coming out of nowhere, and for those who find it jarring I apologize. Hers isn't the focal point though so I didn't want to commit to telling the multiple stories when I didn't have to. They'll converge anyways.
As always, thank you for reading, stay safe, and wash yo goshdang hands!