Fridays are usually my upload day, and it is typically every other. I missed Friday, but I'm also posting early. Am I late one day, or am I early six days? Why am I asking? Time has ceased having any meaning this year.
While I ponder the passage of time, enjoy a short chapter this week!
Day broke with the gentle chittering calls of a chickadee above them. Weiss pried her eyelids open, forcing back the desire for more sleep, and letting out a resigned huff she stretched her stiff legs out beneath her. The rain had passed at some time in the evening and now the only signs there had ever been any were the droplets clinging to every surface. Well, that and the not inconsiderable puddles scattered around them.
An alien weight on her shoulder made her pause as she moved to rise, glancing sideways and feeling her cheeks warm in an instant. Ruby remained fast asleep, face peaceful despite the fitful evening they had. Her cheeks, usually pale, had an adorable rosy tint to them, not unlike a child's cherubic complexion, soft and innocent. Weiss' eyes drifted to Ruby's lips and she was reminded that her partner was anything but a child. Going on seventeen years to Weiss' nineteen she had long since left behind the right to be called a 'child'. Even if she were a few years younger all that they had endured would have stripped her of that moniker all the same.
Weiss stared at Ruby's lips for a painfully long, silent breath. Cicadas chirped, hidden among the groves of pines and oaks, concealed between the ferns, in the grassy knolls surrounding them. Almost directly above them a bluebird warbled, and Blake's ears twitched, the Faunus rolling against Yang's side and burying her face in the blonde's golden mane.
With the practice of a surgeon Weiss extracted herself, reluctantly, from Ruby's embrace. Her partner stirred briefly before settling against her pack, soothed by her own cloak being wrapped around her. Once certain Ruby would not wake unduly Weiss rose to her feet, groaning as she stretched her legs, hands on her back as she leaned into them. Joints popped and she sighed in relief, taking stock of their campsite once more. Their shelter had held and the otter skins remained fixed in place, albeit now holding small pools of water. While the forest floor was drenched through it looked like Qrow's hand drawn canal had diverted most of the runoff from them, leaving their sparse campsite dry.
Speaking of which, where was Qrow? The lanky drunkard was nowhere in sight; his pack remained but his weapon was notably absent as well. It made sense as there were doubtless dangers in the woods. Grimm notwithstanding, there would be wolves, bandits with him they had no rapport, and other prowling predators ready to pounce on unwitting travelers.
Taking a note then from Qrow, Weiss fetched her rapier, prying it from leather bindings. It withdrew with a soft hiss and she held it in both hands, one on the grip, the other cradling the blade delicately.
It was an exact replica of Myrtenaster. Before she had so little time to stop and appreciate the rapier that she had not noticed. Now, as the air clung to her, chilled from the downpour and still for the absent winds, she finally had time. What a beautiful recreation it was. From the lack of a knuckle guard to the four-pronged hilt, swirling engravings burned into each, the attention to detail was undeniable. Much like the real thing the replica held six stones within the guard itself; red, blue, green, yellow, purple, and orange. One for each element favored by runic Magi. The blade itself, long and narrow, tapered off to a fine point, its edges no doubt razor sharp. Though she would not wish for an attack on their camp Weiss yearned for a chance to try it out. Knowing that it could conduct magic as well, much in the same manner Raven's weapons appeared to, made her giddy at the chance.
To her dismay and elation there would be no attacks that morning, gods willing. Realizing that she had been staring at the weapon longer than necessary she carefully fixed her rapier at her hip, sliding it inside the leather sheath. It lacked covering for the blade and Weiss made a mental note to be more careful, lest she bump against anything and damage it.
Armed now she took one last glance at the camp. Footprints were easy enough to find and none of them, save perhaps Yang, could make some so big. Pushing aside a dripping fern she waded through wildflowers, dew clinging to her trousers, and followed Qrow's path. Golden sunlight seeped through from above and a faint warmth licked at her face, turning the forest floor a warm shade of orange as decaying leaves breathed a new life. Squirrels and other small critters raced along the forest floor, skittering and stirring up underbrush, leaping above her and making smaller branches creak. She stepped wide of a cluster of poison oak, navigated her way through some particularly muddied ground, squelching under her boots, and took a large detour to navigate a spider's web, removing her rapier to wipe away any cobwebs in her path.
Weiss considered briefly if she should just wait for Qrow to return. If Ruby were to wake and find her gone, she would doubtless come searching. Yang and Blake too, and the last thing any of them needed was to lose one another in the forest. No longer able to see the camp behind her despite only walking ten minutes she forged ahead. Her clothing clung to her, not quite soaked but still damp, and Weiss plucked at it with her free hand. Without anything to change into she would need to make do with what she had for the time being. Maybe they could stop by a village on the way to wherever they were going. Even just a change of trousers would be welcome; the chance of getting fresh undergarments were infinitesimally small.
She half dreaded to find Qrow either bathing or relieving himself among the trees. Neither option was particularly pleasing, and so Weiss was happy to find the man sat among witch-hazel and wild azaleas. His back had been to her and he was hunched over, yet he straightened long before she was anywhere near him, glancing over his shoulder before nodding and going back to whatever had been occupying him before.
Weiss peered over the man's shoulder and tilted her head curiously. "A map…?"
"You use them to figure out where you're headin'," Qrow drawled.
She took the higher ground and only lightly struck Qrow's shoulder, huffing as she walked around him. "Why are you looking at it?" The answer was obvious which made Weiss' question idiotic at best. "Where are we heading?" she amended, leaning over to try and decipher the paper.
"That's what I've been trying to figure out, Ice Queen." Qrow gestured beside himself and Weiss sat, relieved to find the man did not reek of liquor just yet. He lowered the map and placed a finger on it. "We're about here, I think. There are plenty of towns along the coast, some bigger than others, and most of them should have boats we can take."
"So, we are heading to Mistral then," Weiss said.
"Yep. 'Course, we can't just take any old boat…" Qrow's finger drifted to the coastline, trailing along the several dots marked on its edge. "Most of these towns got ships we could take, sure, but they're also hotspots for Hunters. They'll have churches with priests, probably a Hunter there to help keep the peace, and are pretty heavily trafficked besides. If we wanna lay low then we need to stick to the smaller ports, find us a crew who will let us buy their silence as well as their boat." He grinned. "Then, we hope like hell that we make it across the ocean in one piece, pray to whatever gods will listen that we aren't killed upon landing, and try to figure out where we go from there."
Weiss nodded absently as she examined the map further. It was of Vale, the kingdom, not the city. The naming convention always struck her as terribly uninspired, but then every kingdom was guilty of it almost. She found the city easily enough, a small if detailed caricature of the capital in the north-western reaches of Sanus. There would be far more settlements and villages than what was shown on the map; Holbrook and Plockton did not appear on the map anywhere. Ambrose did, and as the largest port besides Vale City itself, so too did Galloway. Seeing it on a map made Weiss appreciate just how far they had traveled since leaving the city. And how impossible it would be to travel anywhere but south. Galloway was but five days north from where they were now, and Hunters were no doubt there already.
Her eyes drifted instead to the coastal towns, picking out names that she did not recognize. As long ago as her arrival in Vale had been, going on twelve years now, she recalled vividly her own arrival.
Galloway had been the port, the vessel that had ferried her to the kingdom was the Eisbrecher. From Atlas, naturally, the three-sailed ship had sported an ice breaker that was customary for vessels used in Atlas' colder climes. It struck Weiss as inordinately funny then, realizing after all these years that the very ship which had borne her here was named as on-the-nose as the kingdom's capital.
Then again, her name was 'White Snow' in Atlesian, and given her white hair perhaps her entire existence was merely one contrivance after another.
The Eisbrecher had been outfitted to transport people great distances and in comfort. It was also ludicrously expensive, far more so than any seven-year-old could ever hope to afford. Were it not for Ironwood's not inconsiderate pull she would have likely needed to make the journey on a smaller, less pleasant craft? One week had been spent at sea, an altogether not terribly long time, albeit they had apparently been rather lucky. No Grimm harried them, no pirates beset them, and the winds had favored them the entire way.
Too young then to appreciate it Weiss had simply enjoyed the journey for what it was. Now however she had to wonder if things had not been arranged to see her to Vale as swiftly as possible.
Pushing aside the unpleasant thought, her eyes settled on one of the southernmost towns, sat in a bay nestled into Sanus' coastline, flanked on all sides by mountains.
"Liar's Bay?" she wondered aloud, eyebrows raising at the unscrupulous name.
"One of our options, yep. Probably our best too." Qrow cracked his neck audibly, leaning back and handing Weiss the map. "Further away than most which means we're walking a hell of a lot longer than I'd like, but that could work in our favor. More distance between us and the Church. And if we keep travelin' in the woods like this then we'll have almost no trail to follow."
"But the name?" Weiss looked at Qrow dubiously. "It hardly instills confidence."
"Eh, it's just a name really. Once upon a time pirates settled it. That's where it got its name from, or so it goes. Once the kingdom started up though and soldiers got down there, they instilled order. Last time I went it wasn't so bad." Qrow paused, watching as a proceeding of geese flew overhead, squawking loudly.
"And when was that, exactly?"
"Oh, ten years ago, give or take. Can't have changed that much."
"An awful lot can change in ten years," Weiss muttered.
She had become a fully-fledged Hunter in ten years' had traveled most of Vale's domain, learned to properly control her magics, and become a well-practiced slayer of Grimm. Yang had changed too, as had Ruby, and Blake. It did little to reassure her; if anything, Qrow's blaise attitude only left more room for worry. So long away from a place meant any number of things may have happened. New leadership, a complete rework of the port itself.
Hells, Ralthor himself could have descended from the heavens and razed Liar's Bay to the ground for all they knew.
Qrow hummed, folding up his map and tucking it away in the breast of his shirt. "We should head back. Once everyone's eaten, we can start traveling again. Maybe stop in a town if we're lucky on the way."
Ten years did not need to pass for significant change. Weiss' fingertips grazed her neck, biting the inside of her cheek as she traced her mark. In less than three months' time she had become a Hunter, learned terrifying truths, and all but become a mindless pawn for the Church. I could well have been one from the start. Deluded. Led by lies and half-truths. Maybe the mark hasn't changed me as much as I thought?
"Qrow?" Uncertain, Weiss rubbed her arm as she examined the man. "Before we go back may I ask something… Personal?"
The lanky man shrugged. "Shoot, kid."
"I don't doubt that our leaving was the right choice. Even if what Ozpin does is for the greater good lying to everyone just feels wrong. And knowing that we're just pawns used to perpetuate a lie doesn't exactly sit well with me either." Weiss shook her head. "But… There's a part of me that wonders if staying wouldn't have been so bad."
"That mark of yours ain't actin' up, is it?" Qrow asked warily.
"No! No, I'm speaking my own mind." I'm fairly certain I am. Taking a deep breath Weiss shrugged, reaching up and wringing her ponytail. "It's only we've left so much behind by doing this. Nora and Ren, Jaune and Pyrrha. The people who taught us. I… I can't…" She averted her eyes and took a deep breath. "I can never see Ironwood again, I would imagine. And whatever miniscule chances I had of seeing mother and Winter are gone now."
"I know that I can count on the others as family!" Weiss added hastily. "I love the three of them more than I could ever expect to. I just…" Her hands grasped at her sides, raising before falling back down. "How can you be so… Okay with leaving things behind?"
"Hm. That's a fair question, I guess. Wish I had an answer for ya, Weiss." Qrow took a swig of his drink and coughed. "It ain't exactly a secret that Raven and I don't get along, and I hardly talk to Tai anymore. Other than the two of them though? Everyone is are mostly just coworkers, I guess you could call 'em." He chuckled, corking his flask and holding it out for Weiss. She shook her head, grimacing, and Qrow put it away. "Not the same as leavin' some friends and I get that, but hey, if there's something that Summer pounded into my skull… Besides how to not be an insufferable bastard like my sister -"
"You could still work on that," Weiss quipped weakly, smiling when Qrow laughed.
"She'd kick my ass, I'm sure. She always was a bit of a hardass about some stuff."
"Well, I hope you're prepared to have her reprimanding you again."
"Lookin' forward to it," Qrow grumbled, smiling cheekily. "Anyways, there's something she told me a while back and I'll admit it's kinda cheesy. Really cheesy, naive too if we're blunt, but hell, it helps."
Weiss began following Qrow back, tilting her head inquisitively when he went silent. Was he going to make her ask what that was? She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, then huffed as the silence dragged on. "And…?" she asked, impatient.
"You never said goodbye to your friends, right? Or your sister?" Weiss shook her head. "Yeah, I never said goodbye to Summer, either. Or Tai. And despite the fact she and I seem to run into each other constantly," Qrow paused to grimace. "Raven and I don't say goodbye either. You know why?"
"Because you're all horribly adjusted adults?"
"Rae and I, maybe," Qrow laughed. "No. If you don't say goodbye to someone then that means you'll see them again, right? They aren't gone," he said, smiling thoughtfully. "It just means they're not here right now, that's all."
Weiss slowed to a halt, furrowing her brow as she stared at the ground. That was technically right, yes. Winter was not here with them currently but that had nothing to do with whether they had said goodbye or not. A continent and ocean were the reason for their separation. Her friends? That was courtesy of Ozpin and the Church. Weiss laughed softly, shaking her head as she picked up the pace to catch Qrow.
"You're right. That is an absurd way of thinking."
"Isn't it? But you know what? It's helped. It would be easy to just sit around and wallow. Fuck, some days I do just that." Qrow tapped his flask for emphasis before shaking his head. "Then I remind myself I'll see them again, get off my ass, and keep going. Some days that's all you can do. Keep moving forward."
Camp was coming back into view now. The skies had begun to clear in earnest and rays pelted the camp, causing leaves to shimmer and twinkle, green stars awash in the forest's din light. The others had finally woken up and were already hard at work preparing for the morning. Yang busied herself by relighting the fire, hunched over it and visibly cursing as she attempted to set soaked wood alight. Blake loomed over her with dried bundles of sticks in her arms, an impatient flicker to her ears betraying her complacent expression. Ruby noticed them first, smiling and waving them over excitedly.
"Keep moving forward…" Weiss mused, waving back to Ruby before humming. "I like the sound of that."
/+/+/+/+/+/
When day broke Hazel, groggy and sore from constant combat the night before, was glad to see no one had been lost. Shaken, and undoubtedly terrified for their wellbeing, but by the grace of the gods not a single member of the homestead had fallen to the Grimm. It helped that he and Ahmar had made themselves tempting targets, flinging spells with near reckless abandon, drawing every beast unto themselves. Despite whatever differences the men had they made a formidable pair, that much he could not deny.
While the residents of the farms had survived Hazel could not say the same for their crops. One field had been all but leveled, stalks of corn flattened, melons squashed and rooted vegetables - potatoes, carrots, and turnips - torn up and strewn about. The King Taijitu had seen to it that its mark was left on the homestead even if not by claiming lives. Try has he had to contain the massive beasts' writhing body there was little Hazel could have done. Even Ahmar's wires had failed to keep it in place, and only by cooperating had they slain it. And then there were the buildings themselves. While each home remained standing, they bore scars of the Grimm's attack. The home they had stayed in no longer had a door; the splintered chunks swept into a pile beside the now empty frame. The others had scores of deep gouges in their walls and roofs, and one had lost a window courtesy of an overzealous Creep. It would take time to repair, not to mention resources the farm clearly did not possess. Had he the luxury of time to offer his aid Hazel might have done so.
Yet other matters demanded his immediate attention. Among the crevices slicing across homestead's commons, deep pits and trenches created by Hazel's own hand, the residents gathered. Small craters filled with water and the animals lingered nearby to quench their thirst, too skittish still to venture far from the barn. While some worked to repair what they could, the rest had opted to hold a meeting, insisting - demanding really, that Hazel and Ahmar be counted present.
It would be about as enjoyable as wading naked through a patch of briars.
"Grimm never came here before! We hardly ever see them!" A broad-shouldered man with hair the color of golden wheat, Dutch Heather's face grew red as he shouted, throwing his hands about. "Last night the hells themselves opened up and they're everywhere!"
His wife grabbed one of his arms. "Please, calm down! If we get too angry, they'll return!"
"What of it? We have our esteemed guests here to handle it, don't we?" Rostford spat, glaring at Hazel and Ahmar in turn. Cradling his injured arm to his chest, cut by shattered glass during the fighting, he stomped towards Hazel, neither discouraged nor intimidated by their size difference. "Well? You're the experts, aren't you? What the hells changed? You'd better have an explanation for this, you good for nothing louts!"
Dutch's wife cringed and raised a hand. "We need to calm down. Please, let's - "
"Calm down?" Dutch scowled. "Being calm did us nothing! Everything was fine until these two showed up!"
"And shouting at each other is going to solve nothing." A man shorter than the rest approached, craning his neck to address Hazel. "Please, we just would like answers, sir knight. Good Hunter." Zaffre Varden, if Hazel's memory served. The man smiled behind his thick beard, the entirety of his body's hair seemingly concentrated on his chin, bushy and brown. With sawdust already clinging to his apron Zaffre grabbed Dutch's arm and pulled him back. "If something has gone wrong then we need to know."
As far as they are concerned it is negativity that attracts Grimm, Hazel had to remind himself. Not everyone was privy to the information he had and divulging the truth here and now with Ahmar present would only go poorly. What do I say? Should I accept the blame?
His eyes flickered to Ahmar and his lips drew a sharp line. He had his suspicions why the Hunter had come here but Hazel had yet to confirm anything. If he was made to leave now without that information he would have to try and tail the man to his destination. Easier said than done; one of them was an expert in tracking and it was not him.
Hazel sighed, rubbing at his chest and wincing as he agitated the tender flesh. Healing magic had closed his wounds, but it did nothing to alleviate soreness. Mended, yes, but still tender. Sleeping had been an absolute nightmare, although at least he had not bled out in his sleep. That was a bonus.
"I suppose there is little hiding it now. It seems we owe you fine people an explanation," Ahmar said. "There is a lie that the Church perpetuates, one which we sell as to protect you all. Negativity does not attract Grimm, you see. That is merely a convenient excuse for us to use." Hazel's eyebrows shot up. "In truth, it is Dust that brings Grimm to us. For some inexplicable reason they appear attracted to the material."
"Dust?" Hazel asked, earnestly perplexed.
Ahmar ran with it. Frowning, he nodded and gestured to Hazel. "Many of us know this. Hunters, knights. We are all made aware of this peculiar interaction upon completing our training."
Alaine looked back towards her home, fingertips on her lips. "I don't understand. How does Dust attract Grimm? And why?"
"As I said, it is not something that we fully understand." Ahmar shook his head. "The prevailing theory is that Grimm do in fact require some kind of sustenance. Unlike most life, however, they do not eat plants or animals, but Dust itself. It acts as a sort of lure for them."
"Dust," Rostford repeated, raising one eyebrow.
"It is why we burn it in the cities as we do. Why the kingdoms prohibit its trade, and why heavy fines and punishments are levied for those who disregard this. Whenever a vein of it is discovered, standard protocol dictates that Hunters or members of the Church in the area must be notified. From there, someone is sent to confirm the quantity of the material and whether or not it is an immediate threat. If it is deemed as such then it is removed with utmost haste, shipped to the nearest city, and properly disposed of."
A convincing lie, Hazel would admit. That Dust was illegal to use was no secret, nor were the massive furnaces within the cities which burned cartloads into ash day in and day out. Why it was illegal was an absolute farce, but it proved a convenient substitute for the truth. Except for one small detail.
If Dust was the cause of Grimm attacks, then the only person to blame was Hazel himself. His gauntlets still hung from his belt, a shard of water and wind embedded in the backs of each. Ahmar's lone eye was trained on him, the corners of his mouth upturned ever so slightly in challenge.
"Go on and challenge me," the Hunter seemed to say. "See who's lie they believe."
Grinding his teeth Hazel held his hands up, bowing his head and closing his eyes. "I am sincerely sorry for bringing Grimm to your homes." He glanced at Ahmar, the bastard now smiling at him in earnest, and sighed deeply. "I will collect my belongings and leave at once."
"Now wait just a godsdamned minute! You expect us to believe that shit?"
"Believe it? It is the truth, good sir," Ahmar said.
"No, Rostford has the right of it. It can't be Dust!" Dutch shouted. "We use it to start fires in the winter, we have for years. And sure, we see the occasional Grimm, but never like what we saw last night."
"It is a matter of quantity, good sirs, and purity as well." Ahmar held his hands up, as if the simple gesture would quell their anger. "It is as I said; Dust attracts Grimm. In fact, I would guarantee that wherever you mine yours from -"
"Right here on the property." A flash of incredulity flashed across Ahmar's face as Zaffre spoke. "Not far from here either," he added while stroking his beard. "New stuff tends to form by late Fall. We break off some shards and use that for fires. It's as Dutch says, we've never had issues with it before."
"Listen. I assure you that what I say is the truth. If you'll only allow me to explain."
Unsurprisingly, the men began to bicker. As convincing and plausible as Ahmar's explanation might be it would not hold up to scrutiny, not if these people had evidence to the contrary. Hazel let the Hunter squirm and took a moment to inspect the work being done, taking just a little pleasure in Ahmar's floundering.
Zaffre's son busied himself with repairs on his family's home first, stripping away broken boards and handing them to his sister. Both seemed confident in their trade, speaking quietly to one another as they worked and paying little mind to the adults' bickering. Tammy, finally showing a little spirit after last night's scare, ran back and forth to transport broken wood, smiling brightly as she received praise upon every return.
The rest of the children, those too young to work, played among the mud, kicking it up and flinging it at each other. Hazel grimaced as a glob of mud struck a young girl in the chest, eternally grateful he would not be cleaning laundry besides his own. As darling as Gretchen had been when younger that was one thing he did not miss whatsoever.
Halric ran along one of the trenches, jumping across the chasm and nearly slipping inside. His feet scrambled and he clambered up the side, trousers covered in mud. The young girl chasing him, a freckled lass with short cropped orange hair, stomped her foot, too short to clear the gap herself. Halric laughed and stuck out his tongue, wiggling his hips as he turned around and shook his rear.
A spout of muddy water jettisoned from the trench and now the girl was laughing, clapping her hands in delight as Halric sputtered and wiped his face clean.
Hazel's breath caught as the girl pulled more water, both from the trench and the air, firing it at Halric in a fine mist and soaking him thoroughly.
"If you won't give us a straight answer then fuck it! Both of you can pack your things and go!" Rostford's shout drew Hazel away from the display. The aggressive man's face, inches from Ahmar's, trembled as spittle flew from his lips. "You've done quite enough harm already!"
"Dear, please! We still need answers!" Alaine looked to Hazel for help. "Will you tell us the truth? Why did the Grimm appear? You know, don't you? Unless you brought them here…"
"Are you suggesting the Church would do such a thing?" Ahmar spat, pushing Rostford back. "I told you, it is Dust that brought them here! The fault lies with only yourselves! Show some gratitude, peasants. If I had not been here, then you lot would be bloody ribbons!"
Hazel felt something strike his leg, glancing down and placing a hand on Tammy's head. The young girl looked up wide eyed, clutching desperately to his pant leg. Halric joined her, and the freckled girl appeared soon after, giggling as she splashed Halric with a small orb of water.
"Magic…"
Hazel pushed the children behind himself and glared at Ahmar as he approached. "Don't you dare -"
"You have a Magi among your families? Why did you not say so?" The Hunter smiled and stopped short, squatting down and extending a hand. "Come here, child." The freckled girl kept firmly as she was, looking at Hazel again before shuffling around his legs. "That's it. What is your name, young lady?"
"Sinann, sir…"
"She's my girl, and you'll not lay a hand on her!" Dutch snapped.
"A lovely name for a brilliant young lady. Tell me, Sinann," Ahmar continued. "Do you know what Hunters are? What we do?"
"You… Kill Grimm?"
"That's right. Knights do too, I suppose, but Hunters especially. And we teach people how to use their magic, and how to protect people they care about." Ahmar's face stretched into a smile, a scar along his right cheek visible beneath his eyepatch. He rose again, calmly turning to address Dutch. "Sir, you did not mention you had a Magi among your number."
"So? We don't have to, do we?"
"There are no laws requiring a Magi to identify themselves," Zaffre recited, earning thoughtful nods from Hazel and others. "Nor are they documented, not even by the Church. And certainly not children."
"Oh, please do not misunderstand. You are not in trouble for not disclosing her status to me. In fact, this is a good development for everyone involved. Sinann, child, how old are you?"
"T-Twelve, sir."
"Almost of age then. Another year and you could travel to the city and begin training as a Hunter -"
"Now listen here, you bastard! No one is taking my daughter anywhere. Whatever you think you're trying to sell us, stop it. We're all perfectly fine here as we are. Always have been." Dutch spat at Ahmar's feet and scowled. "Take whatever you're offering and stick it."
"Sir be reasonable. I am offering your daughter, and your family, a chance at a better life. All Initiates are provided for by the Church and the crown both. Their families are given a stipend, and even Initiates can undertake simple tasks to earn Lien. She would have a better life in the city, a safer life, and be able to practice and perfect her magic in safety."
"Safety? She's never harmed us before."
Ahmar nodded in agreement. "True, but that may change. Without proper training it is not uncommon for a Magi to cause intended damage, either to themselves or to loved ones. Magic without tempering is a dangerous tool."
"Then teach her how to do it here!" Dutch's wife clasped her hands hopefully. "You can do that, can't you?"
"I'm afraid not. It is too dangerous to practice outside of the city. We cannot -"
"Why is that dangerous?" Hazel interrupted. Ahmar turned to him slowly. "If a man such as yourself were here then surely you could train the girl safely."
"A homestead such as this is not properly equipped for training. We require other measures to ensure the safety of Initiates and Hunters both. Such as - "
"Such as barriers?" Hazel watched Ahmar's fingers twitch, the man's eye narrowing dangerously. Comforted by the weight of his gauntlets on his waist he lowered himself to one knee and smiled at Sinann. "May I ask you a question? How often do you use your magic, Sinann? Do you play with it a lot?"
"N-No, sir! It makes me tired to use it, and pa says it's dangerous."
"All the more reason for her to train with us," Ahmar said firmly. "Cease this nonsense, Hazel, and allow me to make my case."
Hazel placed a hand on Sinann's shoulder, dwarfing the girl in the process. "Sinann. Magi are very important, but so too is freedom to choose what we become. Just because we have magic does not mean we need to join the Church. But magic is dangerous, and it's up to those of us who have it to use it wisely, okay? I need you to promise me something." He looked to Dutch, and the other adults gathered. "I need you all to try and limit how much magic she uses."
"That shouldn't be too difficult, but why?" Alaine inquired.
"She helps us water the plants. She does in seconds what would take us half an hour to do!" Rostford protested.
"Because as Ahmar says, magic without training is dangerous. Sinann could injure herself if she overdoes it. Spellcast sickness," Hazel explained as he smiled at the young girl. "It can make you really tired, make you feel like it's the worst cold you've ever had. You can become very ill if you use it too much. And while training with the Church might help that, so too does limiting how much you use."
Hazel so desperately wanted to throw Ahmar to the wolves, to proclaim that magic was the true source of these people's ills and settle what may come. The small, shaky child before him convinced him otherwise. If he did that then they would ostracize Sinann, throw her out and leave her on her own. At best she would be picked up by Ahmar or someone like him, taken into the city and turned into another mindless pawn. At worst a Grimm would find her. Hazel did not want to entertain what might happen in that case.
"Now wait just a minute! You two still haven't answered our question!" Dutch reached out and pulled Sinann away, glaring at Hazel and Ahmar. "What brought Grimm to us? It wasn't Dust, and if it's not negativity then what? What makes Grimm appear?"
Now it was his turn. Hazel stood again and took his time to dust off his trousers. "The reason Hunters are generally kept within cities is because there are barriers surrounding them. Barriers conceal people from the Grimm, this you all know. It's one of the boons of living in a larger settlement. As Ahmar said, however, it is not negativity that draws Grimm -"
"Hazel, I would pick your next words very carefully," Ahmar warned.
"Grimm seek out Hunters. They are mindless beasts, yes, but they know enough to recognize their natural enemy. So, as goes the Hunter so too do the Grimm. They are both the bait to lure out the beasts and the blade to fell them."
"And despite this, Ahmar and I both have come here, knowing we might cause undue strife. Nothing we can say will undo what you have endured as a result…" Hazel bowed his head in apology.
"You… You both knew this?" Alaine's eyes widened, shimmering as she clasped a hand over her mouth. She looked at Halric and Tammy, slowly shaking her head. "We invited you into our home. Sheltered you…"
"And you put all of us in danger!" Rostford finished, shouting as he pointed furiously. "I always knew you damned Hunters were no good! Cursed, the whole lot of you!"
"That would explain why we always had trouble in Alabaster," Zafree said, scowling. "Gah, it's so bloody obvious now in hindsight. We always had issues with Grimm."
Ahmar's mouth worked silently before clamping shut, jaw clenching as he bowed his head. "I never intended to cause any of you harm." He swept a leg back and bowed. "I will depart at once. Thank you for your hospitality."
"I think it's best you leave," Alaine muttered. "Take your things and go. Please. And never come back."
Hazel bowed his head, hiding his self-pity behind an understanding smile. Ahmar scowled and began to storm towards the barn, shooting a glare Hazel's way before throwing open the barn doors and disappearing inside. "As you command. Please, just make sure that Sinaan limits her magic. You are wonderful people." For the most part. If Rostford had ended up a little more injured Hazel doubted he'd feel sorry for the man. "And I would hate for her to end up ill. Perhaps consider irrigation -"
"We don't need suggestions from Grimm bait," Dutch sneered. "Go. We're done with you."
Far from an ideal conclusion but one Hazel could accept. Keeping his head down he turned on his heel, marching mechanically towards the barn. Something hard struck his back, then his shoulder, and he continued to walk. A stone ricocheted off the barn door and he ducked inside the building, wrinkling his nose at the foul odors. Ahmar was already had resaddled his horse and paused to sneer at him.
"Are you proud of yourself, Rainart?"
Hazel sniffed, going to the furthest stall and greeting his steed with a gentle pat. It whinnied, kicking its feet impatiently. "You are scum, Fatalwa. Trying to steal away a child…"
"I gave her an option, I did not 'steal' anything." Ahmar mounted his horse and took up the reins. "Spare me your moral high ground, dog. The Church does not make a habit of kidnapping children. The offer I made was one in earnest; that girl will be the death of these people sooner or later. You know that as well as I do."
Hazel strapped his saddle in place, glancing at his armor, dry and hung neatly beside the stall courtesy of Alaine. Reaching out he ran his fingertips over the plate, skin chilled against the cold metal. It would have made little difference if he had said he was of the Commandery. Sure as people could hate the Church and its Hunters so too did they loathe the knights. Living in luxury, outfitted with the best armor and weapons, men in his station could be seen just as fortunate as the nobility they served. Even if it was jealousy which drove the hatred they received Hazel could not blame anyone for how they felt.
He could, however, blame a man for attempting to deceive innocent civilians.
"We are not finished, Ahmar. We will not settle this with civilians nearby," Hazel began as he started on his first greave.
"You seem to believe us Hunters to be animals. We will not risk these people, that goes without saying," Ahmar growled. "And I doubt I can conduct my business with you nearby. I shall wait for you to the south. There is a canyon there. It should suit our needs just fine."
"I'll be right behind you."
"Eager to see your grave?"
Hazel scoffed, shaking his head. Fixing his other greave on he adjusted his chausses, fixing the belt before unlatching his chestplate and lifting the metal over his head. "I do not wish to fight you, Ahmar. You could return to the city. Tell Ozpin you could not complete your task."
"Fool, I will do no such thing. A Hunter does not retreat. What I do today will make Vale stronger, safer. If you insist on standing in my way then you will be treated as my enemy," Ahmar kicked his horse forward, drawing up his hood. "Make peace with the gods, commander."
Hazel watched as Ahmar kicked his horse and began a hasty retreat from the homestead. With the weight of his armor on his shoulders he secured it as best he could on his own, wishing dearly he had a squire for assistance. Though handling the reins would be clunky with them he slid on his gauntlets, checking the Dust crystals before leading his horse from the stall. It stomped its feets and whined as he climbed onto its back, stroking its mane appreciatively before urging it forward. The rank air left as he bolted from the barn, sending his horse into a full sprint. Ahmar's horse did the same, already several hundred yards ahead, a blot against the bright sky ahead.
The families behind them watched on, obscenities chasing them away from their homes. Hazel cast one last wistful look back, taking in the damaged homes, the ruined fields, knowing full well it would take them weeks to fully repair everything.
If he survived this ordeal, then he would return. Hated or not he would at least do his part to mend what he had destroyed. It was the very least he could do for them.
While I would love to do updates weekly again I sincerely doubt my schedule will allow for it. Maybe we'll have another entry this Friday if I can finish editing/rewriting necessary pieces in time, but don't hold your breath.
Seriously. That's a week away, you'll pass out. Don't do it.