It's almost Thanskgiving here in the US, which means time to consume copious amount of birb and side dishes. If you all don't hear from me I've become comatose from the several dinners I'm to attend. I leave my worldly belongings to my cat. That's probably fine, right?
Weiss had no idea where they were going.
Which in of itself was nothing new, mind. She had been brought to a new kingdom without proper guidance, then dragged away from her friends - of her own volition and thrust into Mistral's wilderness. So, it came as no surprise that she had no clue where she was. Pine trees formed disorderly rows around her, the ground sprinkled with the teasing of wintry precipitation muddled by browning needles and decaying flora. Ferns, small shrubs, and withering flowers tried to give the forest floor some color besides brown, greener-brown, and sickly yellow.
All it did was make every footage of the forest floor look the same. If not for Nike's invaluable guidance Weiss was sure she would have spent all morning walking in circles.
She had no idea where they were. No idea where they were going beyond a vague northern direction. All in all, Weiss felt pretty confident in her being lost.
At least she felt better after the outburst in that cave. In the same way one felt better about vomiting after a night of drinking; her head throbbed dully, her limbs felt heavier, and she was vaguely aware of some foul taste clinging to the back of her throat. That she walked under her own power helped to salvage what fraying strands of her pride remained, though a strong breeze might have been enough to send her toppling over.
Nike seemed to share the sentiment and never strayed far from her, always at arm's length.
They continued in that facsimile of drunken stumbling for an hour. Possibly two. The early morning sun had a hell of a time trying to shine through the towering pines. What little sunlight did pass through came to them in anemic slivers, further parsed down into sickly pale imitations of illumination.
"Remind me," Weiss drawled over the crunching of frost-laden leaves. "Where is it we're going again?"
"Zagori. A small hamlet just before the trails into the mountains. It won't be much to look at," Nike admitted, lips tugging into a slight smile. "But considering the journey ahead I think you'll appreciate a chance for some proper shelter. And warmer clothing."
If Weiss weren't wracked with shivers already, she might have denied the assertion she was cold. After all, wasn't the 'Ice Princess' being cold something of a hilarity? She should be fine in the wintry climes, especially if Nike's misbegotten belief that she was some deity were true. Yet much to her chagrin she rattled like a chain, teeth ground together to keep them from chattering. Rubbing her arms did little to chase the growing cold away either.
"There won't be much there. It's a hamlet after all, but we can at least find a cloak there. Something better than that thing you're wearing."
"I happen to like this cloak."
"And I happen to like my lady not being frozen at the foot of the mountain," Nike rebutted. "Honestly, if you're catching hypothermia before we've even begun the ascent how are we meant to reach my village?"
Pursing her lips, she swallowed a curt retort and rolled her eyes. "Where is that reverence you spoke to me before with? I think I preferred that to the sass."
"You looked ready to skewer me whenever I spoke like that, and you seem to appreciate my familiarity. Although you didn't even balk at calling you 'my lady' just now."
Weiss' nostrils flared. "Do not take that as an open invitation to use whatever titles or honorary addresses you've in mind. If you begin licking my boots I swear I will throw myself off the mountain in shame."
"I won't lick your boots, Weiss," Nike said, a sly grin coming to her face. "Not after you've just stepped in feces."
She did not! Weiss stumbled to a standstill, perched awkwardly on one foot and lifted her leg. Nothing on the right, and nothing but a clinging leaf on the left. A stifled sniggering told her all she needed to know. Huffing, she dropped her foot, stuck her tongue out at her clearly too comfortable companion, and stormed ahead.
In truth she did appreciate the candor and light chatter. It felt familiar in a way that made her heart sing and ache in tandem, fettering sparks of joy with manacles of somberness.
Nike was not her friend, not in a true sense. Not when she had been broken down and made to accompany her. Not when the true woman had been more ready to run her through than have even a cordial conversation. Worse still was the fact nothing Weiss could do at current would fix it. She didn't know enough about Rhodes's spell to try and undo it. Did not trust herself enough to try without potentially scrambling what remained of Nike's mind.
Worse still? There was no one to lay the fault upon but herself. Yes, Rhodes had done the deed, but Weiss hadn't made much effort to stop him. She hadn't even attempted to rectify the situation since Pradalia either, so ensconced in her own misery that she could not be bothered.
Nike did not seem to mind, or if she did then the part of her which rebelled was thoroughly and soundly snuffed. If this Nike seemed content with the current arrangement, then Weiss would act in the same way.
Gods knew they had enough issues on their plate already.
Ahead of them the ground rose up at a languid clip, the leaves and snow-crusted ground making for precarious footing even on the gentle slope. After finding a suitable stick for support Weiss began walking up, pausing as Nike darted ahead on her wings and pushed aside a low hanging limb for her.
Emphasis on low. Weiss still needed to duck, then shimmy her way between two thorny clumps of hawthorn that dragged against her pant legs. With no actual path to follow they needed to carve their own way through the pine forest. Navigate walls of timber and detritus, wade through brambles, cobwebs - which she handled gracefully with only tiny squeals of protest, and trudge through mud that clung to her boots like a jealous ex.
All things considered it was a lovely stroll through the wilderness. Made further agreeable by one poignant issue, or a lack thereof.
"We've still yet to encounter Grimm."
Not that Weiss was complaining. Any day where she did not need to do battle with magic-loathing fell beasts could be considered a lovely one, but there was an irregularity to it. She had expunged a not insignificant amount of magic yesterday, attracted Grimm, and yet said beasts did not harry them. Even now, with her intermittently using flame to chase the cold, or Nike using wind to clear a path, no Grimm pursued them.
And nevermind giving chase; Grimm were nowhere to be seen in general. In Vale it was typical for the creatures to wander as the local fauna might. Yet here, removed from people and surrounded by nature on all sides, Weiss did not catch as much as a glance at black fur or hide.
An occasional deer. Small forest critters, squirrels and small lynxes. Even the occasional boar wandered nearby before bolting in a cacophony of snorts and whines. More than once too they heard the distant howls of wolves. Too 'alive' to be Beowolves, as odd a distinction as that was. Weiss knew Grimm's cries well and could tell the difference. Proper wolves had a certain vitality and vibrancy to their calls. Lacked the guttural, baleful call of their unearthly counterparts.
Nike had suggested more than once that the Grimm were sparse because of a lack of people. Failing that, she made mention that perhaps Salem had a hand in their absence, only for Weiss to point out Salem had brought Grimm upon her for disobeying her once already.
"I don't like this," Nike said after a long moment's pause. Stopping together, the Faunus looked around them before clicking her tongue. "I can hardly see anything from down here. I'm going to look above for a moment. You'll be fine if I go?"
Weiss tried and failed to look nonplussed by the suggestion she was helpless. "Go on, go and scout out the landscape," she shooed, flicking her wrist before frowning as she took stock of the area. "Although I doubt you'll see much with how tightly packed these trees are."
"True, but at least I might spot some birds fleeing, or a clearing nearby. Something to navigate towards." Weiss pointed ahead to the ever-growing mountain they had been trekking towards. Nike sighed. "Something other than a giant rock, Weiss. I'll be right back."
Two wing beats had Nike rocketing above the piney spears, disappearing over smatterings of dark spruce. Kicking up a cloud of browning needles and dirt too, the former which Weiss plucked from her hair with a breathy huff. "You did that on purpose," she grumbled, flicking a clump of dirt from her shirt.
She doubted Nike would see anything even from above. Any previous attempts had yielded nothing and she doubted that would change now. Three days into the forests now and they had gotten closer to the mountain… And had little else to show for their trevails.
They were alive which was a plus, though it was a sad day when being alive counted as a positive. As if they were scraping the bottom of a once silver-lined barrel for things to be happy for.
"Salem? Perhaps you'd like to explain why Grimm have been leaving us alone?" She might as well do something while Nike put in actual work.
No answer. Weiss waited a moment while she blew into her hands, rubbing them together to get warmth into them again. "What, do you tire of tormenting me? I know you can hear me."
Not as though she had outranged whatever accursed magic bound her to that woman. A curious thing, that, considering every spell Weiss knew of, had an effective range. Once a caster moved beyond a particular point they lost the ability to interact with their spell. It would become innate or, more likely, simply dispel if left alone. Neither of which seemed to happen considering Salem had influenced her just recently.
Doubly so when Weiss swore she was still being watched.
Salem still denied her any response. The forest, as if taking pity on her, sent a hushed rustling of leaves in a wordless reply, and Weiss' snap revealed a small white coated rabbit racing through the debris along the forest floor. Not exactly Salem, not even close.
Maybe a more direct approach? "It's a wonder Ozpin married you, given how awful you look."
Nothing. Which might be something of a relief if not for the nagging buzz in the back of her mind, like an itch she couldn't scratch. The sensation of something just on the edge of her consciousness made her squirm, rubbing her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she plucked at her sleeves.
Weiss might expect a sarcastic remark, or at the very least some sort of punishment for her taunt. All she got instead was that unpleasant, distant sensation of being examined.
Which a normal person might chalk up to paranoia. She was neck deep in a dark forest with limited lines of sight, tired and cold, and still anticipating Grimm to appear at a moment's notice. But none of that worried her; she could deal with all of that with magic or training. No, the fact a woman had free reign about her mind made her concerns feel quite justified. And made her look all the more silly when retribution didn't come.
It wasn't unreasonable to think that Salem had something else to do at the moment. The woman's sole existence wasn't to govern her but all of Vale's Wardens. Although the witch did seem to have an affinity for Weiss herself, as if she took a particular pleasure in tormenting -
"Village is just ahead."
"Fuck!" Weiss squealed, flailing as she spun around. Nike caught her wrist and Weiss' cheeks warmed immediately, gawping before stammering. "I, er, you should," she shook her head and scowled. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"
"I said your name three times, Weiss." Nike studied her and frowned. "Are you okay? You seem unsettled."
"You just scared me witless!"
"Ah."
So verbose. So unapologetic. "Don't do that again! I almost attacked you!"
Nike's lips quivered, eyebrows raising just a hair. She glanced at Weiss' outstretched palm and tugged her closer, smacking her own cheek with Weiss' hand. "There, feel better?"
"I would feel better if I could put a bell on you!"
"Moo," Nike drawled, releasing Weiss' wrist and smiling apologetically. "Forgive me, you just seemed to be having unpleasant thoughts. I figured you might appreciate a distraction."
"Yes, well, next time distract me without making me lose ten years on my life." Weiss for once counted herself fortunate that her hair had a natural white coloring to it. All of the recent stress and scares would have anyone else greying prematurely. Flexing her fingers, she looked ahead, stared through the trees to look at, well, a whole lot of nothing. "Just ahead of us?"
"Due northeast, yes. We'll be there within the hour, if we keep moving at our current pace." Nike paused, tilting her head slightly. "Well, not at our current pace. It would take a lot longer if we moved at this speed. Which is to say we're not moving."
"Thank you, Nike!" Still failing to work heat back into her hands Weiss tucked them into her sleeves instead, turned on her heels and began storming forward. With as much fury as a shivering, demure woman lost in the middle of the woods could muster.
Hark, nature, feel her wrath. Watch as trees bend in submission over her glowering. Witness as the region's predators whimper in fear. Weiss liked to think her scowl spoke more to that and less to the irascible, taut coil of anger and anxiety that she was. At least Nike took the hint and didn't continue to tease her for her small lapse in focus. Maybe she would forgive the woman just this once.
"Honestly though, you should pay more attention. I'm hardly discreet when flying."
Or maybe she would 'volunteer' for Nike to act as target practice for her spells later. For fun. And certainly not out of any blooming grudge she might have.
Deciding that conviction would be better spent getting somewhere warm, Weiss picked up the pace. An hour away turned to half of that, then a quarter of it. The scenery hardly changed in all that time; trees remained as dense as Jaune, with the only sign of anyone living nearby being the occasional stump in the forest. Any trails left by the lumberjacks were long since blanketed by leaves, leaving them to pick a direction and hope for the best.
And for once, 'hope for the best' actually panned out. Weiss saw the billowing black smoke before they ever spotted the first building. Accustomed to the full walls of cities she almost tripped over the fence made of sticks and stones; the "fortification" was more like to break bones than stop any Grimm. After not tripping over that wall, she was grace incarnate, and not telling Nike to stop snickering at her,
Her humiliation waned with the distance between them and civilization. Or whatever counted as civilization this far removed. The ground rose for a while longer, outcroppings of rocky shelves and the occasional trickling stream creating little obstacles in their path. Up, further and further, where the mountains just beyond the threshold now blotted out the sky before them, their snow-capped peaks hidden behind clouds and perpetual streams of wintry winds. Try as she might, Weiss could not see anything along their faces. No signs of anyone living among them, much less the purported village Nike hailed from.
Villages did exist here though. Hamlets, actually.
Weiss had expected to find an inn awaiting them. Warm beds, comfortable if not spacious rooms, and food begging to be devoured. Foolish considering all there was nearby included pines, pinecones, pine needles, which as far as she knew there was not much of a market for.
The hamlet they found would have no inn, no spare beds, and Weiss would be shocked if they found so much as an alleyway to spend the night in.
As they crested the hill the trees at last began to thin. Stumps became more prevalent, and the ground had been cleared for a spattering of plantings and spots to stack lumber. Their approach took them through two stacks of logs that sat near double Weiss' height, held together by stakes as thick as her forearm. Needing to turn sideways to pass through they shimmed between the piles.
"Zagori," Nike explained, her voice barely above a whisper. "Small place, I never knew much of it beyond it existed. Don't know any of the residents either."
Weiss stopped and turned her head. The only thing she could turn in the cramped, bark-lined corridor. "What? You don't even know anyone here?"
"Did you know every person in every town you stopped at in Vale?"
"What… No! But you gave the impression you knew someone here!"
"I said we could find shelter here," Nike replied. "I never said I knew anyone."
"That's not, I mean, you should have been more specific!" The expression she got was nothing short of incredulous. Huffing, Weiss turned back to look out at the hamlet, or what little she could see of it. A well covered by a flimsy looking canopy, the side of one log building, and the backside of another made of stone. Hardly the most informative of views. "This is absurd, we should have walked into the place like normal people."
"They live in the middle of nowhere Weiss, with nothing to offer traders. How often do you think people come here?"
"I don't know!" Weiss hissed, turning back again. "But I hardly think espionage is the best way to secure lodgings! If you're so concerned about us not being welcome then I should think we would be upfront, not skulking about!"
"Trust me, I'm not exactly enjoying having bark tear into my feathers over here."
"Then why follow me? I could have come here myself and gotten you afterwards!"
"Ma'am, please, is this really the place for this?"
No, probably not, but Weiss was cold, hungry, sore and tired of walking. Her rear had begun chafing from scraping against bark and her fingertips tingled unpleasantly from the cold. About the only thing she had going for her at the moment was Salem had suddenly decided to spend her time elsewhere. As shallow a blessing as that was, she appreciated it nonetheless.
Weiss opened her mouth to reply but paused at the scraping of feet against dirt. The sound of a sharp, startled gasp in a tiny voice drew her focus away from Nike, slowly turning her head to look at the end of the logs. To a girl no more than six who stared at them with large, doeful eyes set in a cherubic face caked in dirt. She peered around the logs and poked her head in just enough to get a better view, eyes widening further spotting Nike further in.
Another child, giggling, became silent as he too stopped at the gap. Then a third. Three little people watched them with silent, bated breath.
Kids. Okay, she was great with children. Well, not fantastic, but she could navigate her way around them. "Hello there," Weiss said, certain to keep her voice soft and low. Had she the space to do so she would have crouched and met them eye to eye. Instead, she settled for a small wave and smile. "Do you know -"
"Bandits!"
The shrill cry sent the trios crumbling away, stubby legs churning like the wind. Something struck Weiss in the chest. It might have been her jaw.
"Uh, Weiss?"
"W-Wait!"
She shimmied her way further down the logs, palms scraping against rough bark. The children's frightened howls continued as she emerged like a maggot from rot, wriggling and squeamish. Weiss had just enough time to break free before a pitchfork with two prongs was thrust in her face, rust-coated teeth inches from her face. She had just enough training in her to go for her rapier to defend herself. More than enough common sense to stay her hand and instead raise both in surrender, hissing at Nike as the woman went to grab her spear.
Drawing their weapons would only worsen the situation. They needed to be calm, friendly, and just explain what they were doing here.
"You're not taking us alive, bandits!" barked Pitchfork.
Okay, she was calm. Relatively speaking. Less could be said for the man waving a neglected farming implement in her face. Swallowing her heart in her throat and taking a half step back Weiss smiled, probably looking more deranged than kindly as she felt her face twitch in irritation.
"Just a moment, please. We are not bandits, we are just travelers!"
An older woman with a rolling pin wagged her 'weapon at them'. She must have thought it was threatening; Weiss tried not to laugh. "Travelers carrying weapons!"
"The roads are dangerous. Anyone in their right mind carries a weapon," Nike pointed out helpfully. "You're carrying some now. Are you bandits?" Okay, less helpful, that one.
"We know how this works! Send in the girls, lull us into a false sense of security, then attack when our guard's down!"
Not a terrible idea. If they were bandits. Which they weren't, spare a small apprenticeship under a certain moody corvid. "Please, we're not here to hurt you. We're just travelers," Weiss insisted. "Take my weapon if it helps you feel at ease, hers too."
"And put ourselves at risk?!" Rolling Pin shook her head, messy auburn curls flinging about. "Fat chance! My husband almost lost an eye to that trick!"
"Dear, I lost an eye to a bramble bush," Husband said from the rear of the pack.
In some universe this entire situation might have been comical. Hilarious even. Weiss might have had a laugh herself if not for the pitchfork hovering in her face.
Something metal clattered to the ground to her right and Weiss followed everyone else's stares. Behind her Nike let out a huff, wings ruffling audibly. "There, take my damned spear. You want her rapier as well?" Before Weiss could complain her weapon whistled from its scabbard and clattered to the ground as well. "There. Better?"
Pitchfork's eyes flickered between them and their weapons but did not lower his own. "Okay, okay, but what about your friends in the treeline? Tell them to do the same!"
"We don't have any friends!" Okay, a little presumptuous of you, thought Weiss. Though probably not inaccurate. "Relax. Besides, if we really wished to hurt you," Nike continued as she held up a hand. Lightning sparked to life in her palm, dancing around it in coiling strands. "We wouldn't need iron or steel to do it."
"Magi!"
The collective squeal of terror was about the reaction Weiss expected. Nike's display succeeded in making the entire group, Pitchfork included, back away from them. It also managed to make the two young men further away still notch arrows and aim at them.
"Nike, you're not helping!"
"If they intend to harm you then I'll protect you, ma'am. I'm sorry," Nike said in the most unapologetic tone ever uttered. "Whatever happens next is their choice."
Gods above! If she wanted a hothead escalating things then she'd have dragged Yang along! Finding herself now between Nike who still toyed with her magic and the villagers, each looking more ready to soil themselves than protect their homes, Weiss found herself at a loss. Did she try and convince them they were harmless now that they had outed themselves as Magi? No way would they feel safe knowing that even one of them possessed command over the arcane.
Weiss liked to think she had something of an accord with the common folk. Not fitting in with anyone with more than two Lien to rub together left her with little choice; she had lived among, worked for, and grown up with people just like these. Except in Atlas, and for the most part in Vale City, people did not shy away from magic.
Sure, if you got sloshed one evening and started lobbing around fireballs like an overeager performer then people might throw a fit. And yes, there had always been a small degree of respect from people by sheer virtue of having magic. Except from nobles. As though having some money somehow made you innately better than a person that could summon a slab of ice on a whim. By all rights Weiss should know what to say to calm these people down. They just needed assurances that nothing bad would happen, that was all.
"It's okay," Weiss urged gently, motioning for people to lower their weapons. "She doesn't do anything unless I tell her to. She won't hurt you."
"Unless you tell her to!" Husband cried hysterically; his lone eye wide in terror. An expression shared by pretty much everyone else.
And she botched that. "No, no she won't! Listen to me, we are not going to hurt you! We would have done so already if that was our intent!"
"You're just trying to trick us!"
Weiss barely held back her groan. "Into what? Giving us your broken tools and rags?!"
"If you really don't mean any harm then you should just leave!"
Weiss would really rather not. If she had to spend another night on the forest floor, then her blisters would start to get blisters. Her back, thighs, and rear were already bruised beyond repair.
"Please," she insisted, taking one step forward which, naturally, sent everyone scrambling back. "We are just passing through."
"Liar! You'll kill us all!"
"We won't go down without a fight!"
"I hear Magi eat people!"
"Wait, what?" Weiss balked. "Where in the hells did you hear that?!"
"Please, just leave! We don't have anything for you," Pitchfork whined, his whiskery face having gone ashen white ages ago. "If you truly don't mean to do us harm then leave us be."
"I can't do that. We're trying to climb the mountain," Weiss lifted her hand to gesture and gawked at how the collective before her cringed and cowered. "We just need somewhere to recuperate for one evening. We'll sleep outside if we have to, just not in the forest again."
"And then you'll eat us in our sleep!"
"Seriously!" Weiss screeched. "Where did that idea come from? Which one of you oafs started that rumor? Well? Speak up!"
"You're doing wonderfully, Weiss," Nike drawled, helpful as ever.
"Your sass to yourself, thank you!"
This was going splendidly. Weiss could see them all having a laugh over this whole incident tonight over a hot cup of tea. They would eat together, sing songs around a fire and hold hands, and reminisce about old times. 'Remember when I almost killed you with a pitchfork?' Pitchfork would ask. She would laugh, he would laugh. Everything would be just dandy.
"Who am I even kidding? I have a better chance of a Nevermore sweeping me off my feet…"
At least Weiss could say she tried to do things peaceably. Or it had been trying, which in a roundabout way was still the same thing. Having zero intentions of returning to the forest just yet - especially considering Grimm had to be out there somewhere, she began contemplating bribery. She had… Some Lien, although immediately she doubted if coin would assuage their panic.
Maybe she could let them take her prisoner as collateral? Weiss looked over her shoulder and saw Nike still playing with lightning, her eyes trained square ahead at the petrified villagers. Yeah, that plan would work as well as dumping lantern oil onto a fire to extinguish it.
"What's all the shouting for? Some people are trying to sleep."
An older elf shambled towards them, wholly removed from the rest of the frantic crowd. His eyes closed, he yawned into his palm, nursed them with the heels of his hands, and looked at her and Nike. Did a trouble take at her, Then a triple? Quadruple? Weiss wondered if the man's neck would take many more before he inadvertently broke it.
"Ah, I…" His mouth pressed closed before he snorted. "Why are you all in such a fuss? These people?"
"We have names," Nike pointed out, frowning. "'I resent you using 'these people'."
"They're Magi! They're going to kill us!" Rolling Pin wailed.
Pitchfork gestured with his weapon wildly. "They were armed, snuck into the village, scared the kids half to death!"
"They tried to eat them!"
"Frederic, please. People do not eat one another," the elf sighed. Then frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well, people do, loosely speaking, but most do not. I do so wish you would stop seeing the worst in people."
"They still snuck into the hamlet, Charon! They're bandits!"
"Possibly," the elf called Charon nodded, "But doubtful. They bear the marks of the Church. One a Warden, the other a Hunter." Weiss' eyebrows shot up and she reached up to check her neck, hand clamping down over her mark. "It seems the gods have at last answered our pleas for help and sent aid."
"I… What?" No, wait, they were being given an alibi by this man. Weiss licked her dry lips and wiped sweat from her brow. "What?"
"Is that not why you're here?" Charon smiled tiredly, gesturing between her and Nike. "You've come to help with the Grimm, have you not?"
They did? Weiss looked at Nike. Nike looked at her, then Charon, then the lightning in her palm and finally dispelled it, whistling and hiding her hands behind her back. Smooth.
Taking the offering for what it was, Weiss smiled awkwardly and nodded. "Yes! Yes, we've heard you've been having trouble as of late and came to investigate." Even if they had not encountered Grimm themselves for several days now.
"You should have said that at the first!" Pitchfork shouted.
"You had a pitchfork in her face," Nike said, rolling her eyes. "I think you find most people are hesitant to speak when staring iron down."
"My name is Weiss," Weiss continued, mouth twitching. "And this vagrant with me is my… Partner, Nike. We've come from Pradalia to aid you in your hour of need." Unsure of how else to proceed she placed a hand on her chest, sweeping a foot behind herself and sketching a bow at the waist. A bit theatrical, wholly unnecessary, but she figured a show of subservience might endear them to the locals. "Please forgive our unusual entrance," she went on, speaking over Nike's barely concealed sniggering. "We weren't sure if Grimm had already claimed the village or not. We were just being cautious."
"Understandable. Your line of work is fraught with perils." Charon smiled in understanding, the gesture not quite reaching his shadow-rimmed eyes. "Let's all let bygones be bygones, hm? If you would allow me, I can show you somewhere to rest."
Weiss wanted to accept but bit her tongue, glancing at the crowd still gathered. "We're not about to find an arrow in our backs, are we?"
"Hector, Tobias, be good boys and lower your bows, please."
One of them, Weiss did not know which, eased his bowstring down and unnotched the arrow. The other fumbled with it and yelped as he loosed his arrow and sent it whistling into the side of a building.
"Hector, you'll put out Abacus's other eye with that!" Rolling Pin screamed.
Abacus had been nowhere near the bow but had assumed the fetal position all the same. Weiss found herself marveling at how these people survived day-to-day, nevermind encounters with Grimm.
"Wonderful. Great. Splendid, even." Charon did not sound like he found the situation any of those things; he sounded like a man who was keen to get back to bed and little else. "Please everyone, as you were. I'll show our guests to my home, and we can discuss our next move later."
Weiss, unsure what to do or say now, smiled at the villagers and nearly bowed again, would have if Nike didn't grab her arm and drag her along. Charon had already begun to wander away without them and they hurried to follow suit, no doubt just as keen as him to be done with that particular fiasco.
Zagori, as it turned out, was barely even a hamlet. Eight buildings, Weiss counted, made up the meager settlement. Structures made of moss-covered logs, stones chipped and worn by age with cracking mortar, and thatch roofs that had probably been replaced yearly and still looked in dire need of repair. Besides the well there was nothing of note in the place. No stables - not that there were roads to ride on, no inn. No tavern for people to gather at, no signs indicating any place of business existed within the hamlet's non-existent walls. The most notable thing there, besides the gargantuan mountain that the settlement sat before, were the piles upon piles of lumber stacked along the perimeter. Most of which sported mushroom growths and looked to have been sat there for some time.
Charon's home was of little regard too. A two-room log cabin tucked beneath billowing blue spruces, the roof had gone brown by virtue of the blankets of needles covering it, one exterior wall turned a greenish-brown from moss. Weiss hoped it was moss and not mold. What sunlight did reach the village seemed to shy away from the cabin, and as they passed beneath the shadow of trees and the mountain Weiss noted the precipitous drop in temperature, shivering and hugging herself.
"Mind your step," Charon said, an afterthought more than anything. "Some of the stones are loose."
They made their way down two-person wide stone steps, many of which were cracked, cracking, or considering giving it a shot as a new turn for their career. A wasted wooden pole handrail to their left would support them no better than a Lien-less drunk might a family. Out of curiosity Weiss tried anyways and grimaced as the wood crumbled in her hand, reducing the pole to wet dust and coating her palm.
"Nike? Thank you for not attacking the villagers back there," Weiss said as she pat her companion's back, dragging her hand up and down.
"You're welcome?"
"Thank you for that as well."
Leaving Nike to attempt and contort herself to see her own back Weiss hurried down the last few steps. Charon had stopped at the doorway and held it open for her, his eyes fixated on the ground at his feet. They flicked to her briefly and he frowned before lowering them again. Which was fine. He just felt awkward about his fellow residents almost murdering them, Weiss assumed.
The entrance to the home was, surprisingly, brighter than the exterior. Several candles burned on various surfaces and cast the place in a spectrum of illumination. And the room was warm. Oh, gods above, it was warm. Weiss almost squealed as she burst inside, momentarily forgetting that she was entering a complete stranger's abode. She did not care. Not as warmth from a waltzing fireplace coiled around her and whispered sweet nothings, taking her hands and nursing feeling back into them. Kissing her cheeks, her nose, and sending warmth to places she might not as readily acknowledge in polite company.
Not the most impressive home if she were honest, but then Zagori was like that. Beyond the fireplace with chipped bricks sat a table with several dirty bowls sat upon it, a few strings of dangling herbs and vegetables hanging over like an edible mobile. Several chairs were spread through the room in various states of 'sit in me' and 'perch at your own peril', and an anemic bookcase that held more knicknacks than actual books claimed a spot along an otherwise barren wall.
"Apologies if it's not up to your standards, but comforts are far and few between out here." Charon stepped past her and squatted down, using an iron to tend to the flames.
"The fire itself is more than enough. Anything more is a luxury." Weiss cracked a smile as she wrung her hands together. "Thank you for helping us, sir. I'm not so sure that the situation would have ended well."
"We had it under control," Nike chimed in, entering a moment later. She stepped closer to Weiss and hovered at her side, protective instincts no doubt. "Weiss, that wasn't shit you wiped on my back, was it?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Of course you don't," Nike smiled, giving her a pat on the back.
She didn't! Weiss smiled back, fighting the urge to reach behind herself and check. Not that another layer of dirt would hurt. She'd just add it to the collection of layers she had already accrued.
Charon rose and dusted off his hands, and Weiss finally realized just how bloody tall the man was. Taller than her, which in of itself wasn't difficult, but he towered over Nike too by at least a head. He might be even taller if he didn't slouch. Then again, judging by their brief interactions and the yawns slipping out, she couldn't blame the man for looking so tired. And when he turned, his face basked in the glow of the fire, she got a better look at him.
Older, with the usual slim but elegant features typical of an elf. A full-blooded elf, Weiss reminded herself. Although age had begun to wear lines into his face Charon still held a sort of timeless youth to him, or he might if he weren't halfway to passing out on his feet. Black hair ran down to the nape of his neck and a few stubborn bangs which refused to be slicked back hung limp over his brow. The shadows under his eyes which Weiss thought were just shadows turned out to be bags. Dark, heavy bags that left her wondering if he actually had been sleeping at all.
Then there were his eyes. Weiss found herself becoming lost in them, and not in the cliche 'Oh, his eyes were so dreamy' kind of way, even if they were. More than that though they made her curious. Irises of amethyst were not in of themselves unusual; Yang had lilac irises most of the time. But Yang's did not have multiple shades of purple to them. Along with amethyst was a helping of mauve and indigo, with a splash of violet and orchid mixed in for good measure. Small flecks of black dotted them too, gravitating around the black suns of his pupils like burned out stars. And the limbal rings, darker than dark, blacker than a starless night, held the whites of his sclera at bay.
"Do I have something on my face, Weiss?"
Blushing furiously, Weiss lowered her head and shook it. "No, forgive me! I just, er, I'm sorry."
"Hello, sorry." Charon chuckled to himself. Not the least bit put off, thankfully, he gestured to two of the sturdier looking chairs by the fire. "Please, sit and make yourselves comfortable. I'll make you some tea to help warm you up." As he moved for a kettle hanging by the bookshelf he paused and glanced back at them. "Are you hungry? I could whip up something to eat as well."
"We're fine, thank you."
"Starving."
Weiss shot Nike a glare, wordlessly trying to convey 'Don't impose upon him!' in her look alone.
'I'm hungry, and I know you are too. Take it' came the unspoken reply.
Weiss nodded her head curtly towards Charon and pressed her lips into a thin line. 'I don't want to be rude!'
'Then take his offer!' her companion seemed to say. That, or 'Yes, I do think the room could use a little color', which would not make much sense given context. The natural browns and grays from the logs made a wonderful, comfortable if simplistic color palate that Weiss felt needed little added to it.
"Should I… Give you two a moment to work out whatever this is?"
"No!" Weiss said hastily.
"Yes."
"We're fine," Weiss snapped. Reeling herself back in she smiled, tightly, taking a seat in one of the chairs and wincing as her already tender thighs met unyielding wood. "Thank you for your hospitality, sir. It's appreciated."
"Please, just Charon is fine. 'Sir' is for people of important standing." Charon placed the kettle over the fire and smiled. "I'm just an old man happy to have company, no formalities needed."
"You're not that old, your hair still has color," Nike said, ever the scholar.
Weiss stomped on the top of her friend's foot. Nike winced, then jabbed her in the side. Weiss jabbed back. The not-so discreet exchange of hands and feet left tender spots feeling more so, and Weiss herself not the least bit humiliated for acting so childish in front of a stranger. Not that Charon seemed to mind, not as he smiled while watching them.
"I think I rather like you two," said the strange older man, only sounding entirely odd for the admission. "I'll be back in a moment, just need to fetch some water for the tea." Charon moved to the door and paused in the threshold, making to leave, stopping, then shuffling in place before clearing his throat. "Ah, please, make yourselves at home. If you need anything from me don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you, Charon, but I think we're fine as we are," Weiss answered.
"A steak would be wonderful," Nike suggested, twisting in her chair and fluttering her wings. "And a bath as well, assuming you have somewhere to bathe here. A change of clothes too."
Groaning, Weiss slouched forward and buried her face in her hands. "Nike, please."
"Not a problem. I'll see what I can scrounge together. Oh, and I'll go and fetch your weapons for you. I assume you would like those back?"
"Yes!" Weiss and Nike answered at once.
"Wonderful. Please, relax and let me see to things for you. I promise you won't want for anything while in our company."
"Thank you, Charon," Weiss said, the second time in as many minutes.
Inordinately pleased with himself the elf bowed his head and left them, the sound of a bucket creaking and fading footfalls on stone signaling his departure. Weiss waited until the man was well and truly gone before standing, throwing her arms up and looking around.
They had managed a small stroke of luck by finding the one reasonable person in Zagori, and a man of apparent standing at that. However, a new problem now stared them in the face…
"Grimm? We're meant to fight Grimm?"
"It is our job, technically. Although I will agree that protecting a little hamlet is beneath a woman of your -"
"Nike, the point I'm trying to make here is there are no Grimm. We haven't seen any in days, even after my little stunt in the cave! And we both know damn well that negativity isn't attracting them to this place. Otherwise it would have been wiped off the map ages ago."
"Okay, fair point. They seemed to have problems with bandits though, judging by how we were received." Nike unfurled her wings and shrugged, crossing her legs and folding her hands behind her head as she stretched out. "Which seems odd too; besides some lumber I can't imagine what bandits would want here."
Nothing, or at least nothing they still possessed. If bandits had once come to Zagori in search of supplies then they had likely long since bled the place dry of any. From the dirty rags that one could charitably call clothing to the rundown buildings Weiss was hard pressed to imagine the hamlet having anything remotely of value. Which likely meant that bandits had not been an issue for a long time.
Weiss voiced those thoughts and Nike seemed inclined to agree. "So, they're either lying to us or paranoid about a problem that hasn't happened in a while," she mumbled. "And if they're having Grimm problems -"
"Which we still did not encounter any ourselves," Weiss added.
"Then it's a newer problem, and one brought on by magic. Which begs the question…"
"If they have a Magi among them then why were they so wary of us? Unless they don't know about the Magi?" Frowning, Weiss began to pace before the fire. Not because she was trying to soak up more heat. No, just because it happened to be right there. "Well, I'm glad to see I'm not the only person who's confused by this. I had begun to wonder if I was just paranoid about everything."
Small relief, that. That did not help their problems anymore either however. If the hamlet was in fact being beset by Grimm then in no way could Weiss leave without first ensuring their safety. Nike of old might have agreed, and current Nike would agree if that was what Weiss decided on, which settled that matter.
Sighing, Weiss ran her hands through her unwashed hair and scowled. "Blasted… And here I thought we might finally get a chance to rest!"
"No rest for the wicked, as they say," Nike mused.
"If either of us are wicked, it's you, Nike. Threatening villagers with magic like some criminal!"
"Don't you have a literal monster inside of you?" Nike held her hands up in apology, then said wholly unapologetic, "Just saying."
Not wrong, but kind of a rude thing to say. Very rude, actually, which Weiss made sure was known by way of an uncharacteristically rude gesture. She could thank Yang for that one later. Scowling at Nike's bemused expression she skulked back to her chair, dragging it away from her friend and sinking into it.
"From one mess to another," she bemoaned as she sank into the hard chair. "Gods, what in the world did I do to deserve this?"
At least she was warm and might soon be clean as well. Silver linings, Weiss told herself. Silver linings.
As we're approaching the holiday season I anticipate my already tentative posting schedule of 1-2 weeks may be disrupted somewhat. I'm going to endeavor to get at least 2 chapters out in December, but we'll see. Work and family are both going to be hectic during the month so no promises.
As always friends, thank you for reading! I hope you've enjoyed, and I hope you all have a pleasant holiday season, whatever you might celebrate!