TW: Rape, Slavery
She sat on the roof of her house, starring up at the shattered moon. She could hear the waterfall crashing in the distance, the mill and other buildings in the village illuminated by the moons glow. Paper lanterns were strung between the buildings of the village, lighting up the streets. She closed her eyes, inhaling; the scent of the rose fields nearby drifted with the wind, a scent she loved.
"Chūjō-hime! Chūjō-hime, where are you!"
Chūjō sighed, standing up and going to the part of the roof she had climbed up on. She climbed down, heading back to her room. Her stepmother stood in her room, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed.
"Where were you?" her stepmother demanded.
"Just getting some air, Murasaki." Murasaki huffed, resting her hands on her hips.
"Don't take that tone with me you brat! And it's 'mother' to you."
You will NEVER be my mother.
Chūjō kept her face blank, bowing her head politely toward Murasaki.
"Forgive me," she said.
Her stepmother exhaled noisily from her nose before turning and leaving, sliding her bedroom's door shut. Chūjō sighed, going to the corner of her room. A red Dust crystal sat on a small shrine; a picture of her mother next to the crystal. She got on her knees, looking at her mother's smiling face. She smiled, running a hand over the photo. She looked back at the crystal, closing her eyes and clasping her hands.
She wandered through the village market; her basket full of the embroideries she had been working on. She passed the flower vendors, inhaling the sweet scent of roses. She smiled, waving at the few vendors she liked.
She reached the rice vendor, standing in line behind an older woman. After a moment the older woman left, a large bag of rice slung over her shoulder. Chūjō went up to the counter, setting her basket of embroidered cloths on the counter.
"I tried a different style with these ones, I hope that's okay." She said. The Rice Vendor looked through the different pieces of cloth before looking at her. She shifted as his eyes ran over her body. "Is something wrong? Do you not like them?" she asked. He shook his head.
"They're as lovely as the last batch you brought, Chūjō. But I was starting to think there could be a different way you could pay me." She swallowed; that look in his eyes, it made her skin crawl.
"I don't think there's anything else I could give you. This is the only thing I'm good at. Outside of archery."
"Right, right." He titled his head chin up, looking her over again. "How old are you again?"
"I turned fourteen last month." She waved a hand. "My father has been away on business in Mistral City, so I wasn't able to have a big party like I usually do."
The Rice Vendor coughed, taking the embroideries.
"Right. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention what I said to your old man when he gets back." He set the two largest bags of rice he had on the counter, sliding them toward her. "The extra ones on the house." He said.
She smiled appreciatively at him, grabbing the bags. She grunted, the rice falling to the ground. She tried to lift them, struggling to move them.
"Chūjō, do you need help?" She looked over, waving at Priestess Zǐsè. The Priestess' fox tail swished behind her, her red robes trailing against the ground.
"Yes, please. These bags are heavier than what I usually get."
Zǐsè hefted up the bags, slinging one over her shoulder, lifting the other up. The Priestess smiled at her.
"Lead the way," she said.
Chūjō walked through the market, humming as Zǐsè walked by her side.
"Hear about Himawari? Got sacked by those bird raiders." Cinder looked over as she passed some of the stalls. A man was talking to one of the blacksmiths, a plethora of swords and spears set on the stall. The Blacksmith frowned.
"Clan Branwen?"
"I think so. Person who got out said a black bird showed up before the village got attacked. Heard people call the leader the Valravn, she's a freak of nature from what I've heard. Tears through entire villages like it's nothing."
She felt Zǐsè nudge her with the rice bag. She looked back over at her.
"Don't pay attention to them, Chūjō, those raider clans wouldn't dare come here, we're too close to the city."
Chūjō nodded, walking toward her home again.
The arrow whizzed through the air, embedding itself into the center of the target. She lowered the bow, smiling. She'd been getting better. She grabbed her next arrow, nocking it. She heard a bird cawing, and lowered the bow, looking off to her side. A large, red eyed raven sat in the branches of one the trees. It cocked its head, its beady eyes on her.
She turned away from the strange bird, re-nocking, and letting the arrow fly.
She kicked her feet against her bed, waiting for the connection to go through, for her father to pick up. After a moment his face filled the screen of her scroll.
"How's my little flower doing?" he asked.
"I'm doing good, dad. I managed to get three bullseyes during practice yesterday." She said.
"Nice job, Chūjō." He leaned back a bit, his face not taking up as much of the screen. "How's everything else been? Murasaki treating you alright? Boys leaving you alone?"
Murasaki treats me better when you're here.
She nodded her head. He exhaled.
"Glad to hear it. I know you weren't happy I started dating again after mom died, so I'm glad things are working out between you two." Her father looked away from his scroll, at something behind him. She heard him sigh in annoyance and turn back toward the screen. "I gotta go, work stuff. I'll be back home soon. Love you."
"Love you too, dad."
The screen went blank, and she set her scroll down on her bed. She looked out the window, the shattered moon looking back at her.
Raven placed the water stones in the bucket of water, turning away and going to the worktable where her multitude of Dust, aura cutter, and steel blades rested. A large lantern flickered next to it, illuminating the multicolored arrangement. Omen's handle sat above the blades. She sat down, eying the handle, looking it over, noting the parts she would need to fix; need to be able to hold a blade but launch it out easily as well. She stretched her back, her feathered cape rustling, as she finished looking over the handle. It took so long for those water stones to soak.
She bolted to her feet at the sounds of screams. She grabbed the handle of Omen, and an aura cutting blade, snapping the blade into place as she rushed out of her tent.
Her eyes widened; flames engulfed the tents of the camp, a woman in a red dress was smirking as she crushed a Branwen into the dirt, flames spewing from her eyes. A woman with mint hair and a man in gray were busy fighting other members of the clan. Vernal was ordering members of the clan to put out the flames, one of her wind and fire knives drawn.
Raven snarled, grabbing her mask from her belt and placing it over her face.
"Cease this at once!" she yelled.
The Red Woman looked up from her kill, blood splattered across her face and mask. Her smirk grew as she stepped off the corpse and sauntered toward her. Raven heard Vernal run up behind her, drawing her other blade. Mint and Gray followed after the Red Woman, Mint sheathing her blood-stained sickles.
"A pleasure to see you again, Valravn," the Red Woman said. Her voice was harsh, a raspy whisper. Raven frowned, keeping a grip on her odachi. The Red Woman clicked her tongue. "Don't tell me you forgot about Akaibara? That village you destroyed ten years ago?" The fire from the woman's eyes grew. "The one you burned down. The one you massacred. And the one's that survived, got taken by that other clan to the Fire Isles."
"I've done that to most of the villages in central Mistral. I have no idea who you are."
"Don't try and play stupid." The Red Woman spat. The fire around her eyes began to die down. "You stopped me from getting my powers completely. You saved Amber on that day. Qrow always told us you weren't involved in this war, but I know that's a lie."
Cinder raised a hand, pointing at her. Raven felt sweat drip down her neck before the finger moved to Vernal.
"Haven is going to fall. We are taking the Spring Maiden with us to get the Relic of Knowledge before we destroy that academy."
"And why would I help you with this? Why would I let the Spring Maiden work with you?"
"Because if you don't, I will do to your clan, your family, what you did to mine. And even if you make it out of here. Salem will find you. You know she always finds the people she hunts." Cinder smiled. "Do you want to know what was left of your dear sweet Summer? Salem showed me what she did with remains of all the Silver Eyed Warriors."
Raven tightened the grip on her sword, her lip trembling. The skies began to darken, a wind rushing through the camp. Cinder's smile grew as she watched her.
"That's some skill your Spring Maiden has." She said. "If you don't want your family to end up like the Roses, I would think it best if you listened to our offer." Cinder looked from her to Vernal and back to her. "Let us take Vernal to Haven and get the Relic. All of your previous actions against Salem will be forgiven, and you will be left free to roam Anima all you please." Cinder stepped forward, holding out her arm. "So, what will your answer be, Valravn?"
Raven didn't answer, looking at Mint and Gray, Vernal in the corner of her eye. She sighed.
"I will help. On one condition." Cinder narrowed her eyes.
"You're in no posit-"
"I want to kill Qrow and Ruby." Cinder looked at her, surprised.
"I'm listening."
"Summer was the only person I have ever loved in my life. Qrow took her from me. Summer's little brat is just a living reminder to me that she's gone, and she has brought me nothing but grief," she motioned to the remains of Cinder's arm with her sword. "And I'm going to assume she's been a thorn in your side as well." Raven lowered the sword. "If you want me to help, you have to set that up for me."
Cinder looked away, mulling it over.
"Lionheart is working with Salem now. I can give him a visit, set it up for Qrow and Ruby to visit him at the school. We were going to have the White Fang destroy the school after we acquired the Relic; there won't be any evidence left of their deaths." Cinder looked over at her, a murderous glint in her eyes as she smiled. She held out her hand. "On the full moon. Deal?"
Raven clasped her hand, squeezing it, scowling as she looked at that woman.
"Deal."
Her eyes snapped open, smoke and screams drifting through her window. She looked out the window, her breath hitching in her throat. Flames engulfed the buildings and flower fields, people running throughout the streets, dark blobs in the smoke.
"Chūjō-hime! Chūjō-hime, wake up!" She looked over at her door as Murasaki burst into her room. "We need to go, come on!"
Chūjō leapt out of bed, running up to her stepmother. Murasaki sped down the stairs, looking back at her, occasionally. Murasaki weaved through the house, peeking around corners before moving on. She reached the kitchen, motioning for her to stay put. Chūjō nodded, glancing around as Murasaki went into the kitchen, rummaging around in it. She reappeared a moment later, a large knife in her hand. She started heading for the back door.
"I told your father we should move out of this backwater and into the city, but does anyone ever want to listen to me? No, they don't!"
Murasaki reached the back door, sliding i-
Chūjō screamed, her ear ringing as Murasaki's body was flung back into the wall. A large man stood in front of the door, a shotgun in hand, smoke drifting from the barrel. He cocked it, a shell falling to the floor. Chūjō grabbed the knife her stepmother dropped, not daring to look at her as she turn and ran.
Splinters flew onto her, a shotgun blast blowing a hole in the walls as she ran.
"No use runnin'!" The man laughed.
Chūjō sprinted up the stairs, slamming her door open before slamming it shut. She backed away from it, her head darting to and fro, trying to find something to barricade the door with. Nothing. She looked over the window, a part of the roof hung out past the window. She ran over to the windowsill, placing the knife in her mouth, the metal cold against her lips. Her ears rung as a shotgun blast tore through her door.
"Found ya!"
She grabbed a hold of the edge of the roof, dangling in the air, her feet kicking, her arms burning as she struggled to pull herself up. She grunted, biting into the knife as she hoisted herself onto the roof. She rolled onto her back, pulling the knife from her mouth, trying to catch her breath.
She screamed, splinters raining down on her as a blast blew a hole into the roof. She scrambled to her feet, running across the roof, holes being shot into behind her. She leapt from the edge of the roof, yelping as she fell, crashing into a tree branch, the wind getting knocked out of her. She hit another branch, snapping through it, and slammed onto the ground.
She struggled to breath, her chest aching. She groaned, staggering to her feet, grabbing her chest, hissing.
She hobbled away from her home, the shouts of the shotgun wielding man growing fainter the further she descended into the smoke.
She coughed, covering her mouth as she ran, flames surrounding the streets. She turned a corner, sliding to a stop.
The Rice Vendor was impaled on a claymore, the wielder a giant man dressed in a tan feathered cape, his face covered by a nevermore mask. The man swung the blade, flinging the Rice Vendor off of it and into one of the flaming buildings. Flaming timbers fell through the hole, sparks and cinders leaping into the air.
She ran, her eyes stinging as the smoke choked the air. Screams and explosions filled the air. Her ears perked up, sliding to a stop, and looking around the side of a building, crouching down.
A Hunter stood cornered by a group of villages, blood dripping from the end of their yanyuedao. The Hunter twirled the weapon, taking a stance.
Chūjō stood up, running off, covering her ears as the screams trailed behind her.
She reached the marketplace, the Dust temple the only building not on fire. She flung herself to the ground, hearing a Nevermore shriek as it flew overhead, it's eyes like red embers in the smoke.
She looked up, a chill going down her body.
A woman in a black feathered cloak was surrounded by villagers, farming tools in their grasps. The woman's face was hidden by her nevermore mask and her mane of messy black hair. She reached into her cloak, Chūjō's eyes widening as the woman drew an odachi, the red blade catching the lights of the fires.
T-the Valravn
A village with a kuwa charged at The Valravn. She blocked the blow, knocking the hoe aside, and running the villager through. She pulled the blade free, weaving between the swings of the villagers as they all rushed her, their kunai's, hatchets, and picks not even coming close to her. She swung her sword, several of the villagers screaming, their blood spurting out before collapsing to the ground, their innards spilling out. The Valravn swung her blade behind her, impaling a woman with a pick before retching the blade free, swinging and cleaving a man in half in front of her.
The Valravn looked at the pile of corpses, blood dripping from the blade. She pressed something on the handle, the blade dropping, clattering against the ground. She reached into her cloak, pulling out a new blade, flames crackling down the length of it.
Chūjō held her breath, staying perfectly still as The Valravn stalked past her. She looked behind her, watching as The Valravn pulled her arm back, and swung. The red blade shot forward, flying through the air, exploding against the Dust temple, flames shooting into the sky, spreading across the wooden walls and roof, engulfing the temple.
The Valravn turned away, her body a black feathered shadow, her eyes burning red behind her Grimm mask. Chūjō's breath stopped, The Valravn's burning eyes narrowing as they looked at her.
Chūjō sprang to her feet, sprinting, coughing as the smoke filled her lungs. She heard a raven caw and screamed as The Valravn dropped down in front of her. Chūjō screamed louder, clawing at The Valravn's gauntlets as they grabbed the front of her dress, hoisting her into the air. The Valravn drew her fist back, darkness filling Chūjō's mind as the fist slammed into her face.
She groaned, tasting blood, her head spinning as she opened her eyes. She tried to move her hands, unable to move them. She looked down, her vision starting to clear. Her hands were bound, the rope itchy, tight. She looked up, holding back a scream.
The Valravn was talking to the Hunter, handing them a stack of lien cards, the man with the tan feathered cloak standing off to the side. The smoke had cleared, her village little more than burned out buildings. The skies were gray, the sun hidden behind clouds.
Chūjō glanced aside, a line of other villagers were all bound like she was. She looked back at the Hunter, Valravn, and the man.
The man pulled his mask free, revealing a weathered face. He hung the mask on a hook on his belt and crossed his arms as the Valravn finished talking to the Hunter. The Hunter left, pocketing the lien. The Valravn turned, facing the man, and pulled her own mask free. Her skin was pale, her lips thin, and bags under her eyes.
"Mostly just vegetables and flowers here. My people have enough food to last this winter, I think Clan Branwen will need it more." The man said. The Valravn nodded.
"We've taken in more people into the clan, I'm glad that you're offering the food, I didn't feel like fighting you for it." She said. The man laughed heartily, uncrossing his arms. The man motioned with his head toward Chūjō and the others.
"And what about them?" The Valravn looked them over, her red eyes lingering on Chūjō. The Valravn shrugged.
"Weaklings, all of them. Do whatever you please with them, Bán, I have what I need." The Valravn turned and left, her cape trailing behind her. Bán chuckled, looking over at them, and licking his lips.
Raven rested her hands over her face, her hair splayed out across her bed. She lowered her hands, listening to the sounds of the camp being dissembled, her clan members shouting over each other.
Midnight Thorn rested on its stand on her dresser across from her. She watched the white butterflies crawl over the blade before taking to the air, floating above the sword. Her hands moved down to her heart, feeling it ache as she watched the butterflies.
Feathered One damn it.
She sat up, looking over at the entrance of her tent as Vernal entered.
"What did you see?" Raven asked.
"Using a Mistral ship. Left in it, looks like they were heading to Mistral City." Vernal glanced back out of the tent before back at her. "Where are we heading?"
"Northwest, on the other side of Lake Matsu. Be harder to find us in the mountains." Vernal frowned.
"Clan Iolar runs the northern parts of Anima."
"I didn't say we would be moving into their territory. Just the northern parts of our own. If need be, we can move toward the coast out west if Chief Gorm has an issue with it." Vernal nodded. Raven looked Vernal over; her body was stiff, her gaze on the dirt floor. Raven sighed. "Speak your mind."
"Do you really want to kill your brother and niece? Family… that's what this clan is founded on, right? Protecting each other?"
Raven opened and closed her hand.
"You can leave, Vernal." Vernal opened her mouth, and closed it, nodding, and leaving the tent. Raven ran a hand through her hair before looking back over at Summer's sword. A few of the butterflies seemed to notice her, fluttering over and situating themselves on the hand in her lap. She raised her hand, bringing the white butterflies to eye level.
"I know you're in pain. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're strong, Raven. I know it hurts right now. But it will be okay. You'll be okay without me."
Raven snorted, chuckling darkly as the ghost of Summer's voice filled her mind.
Is this what she would have wanted to happen to us? To me?
She lay back down on the bed, feeling the butterflies crawl over her.
The truck rattled, bumping and shaking as it went down the road. Chūjō interlocked her fingers, her wrists sore and chaffed, the rope having dug into her skin long ago. Her stomach growled, her stomach a painful knot. The blindfold over her eyes was itchy, the world a gray blob whenever she opened her eyes.
She had no idea how much time had passed. That man in the tan cloak, Bán, had her and the other villagers put in trucks. They seemed to have been driving for days, weeks, only stopping to give them something she could barely call food. Her stomach twisted at the memory of switching from the truck to the boat, and the long voyage on that, of the stink of vomit and the feel of it on her dress when the others got seasick.
She felt the truck start to slow and lifted her head. She heard the truck door swing open, light filtering in.
"Out. Single file."
She swallowed, and got to her feet, waiting awkwardly as the people in front of her funneled out. She hesitated, taking a step back.
"Out!"
She gasped as the woman at the door grabbed her by her bound hands, yanking her out of the truck and crashing into the hard ground.
She staggered to her feet, her knees stinging, blood dripping down one of her legs. She could faintly see the others and went over to them, standing by them. She bit her lip, trying, and failing, to ignore the pain shooting from her knees.
Someone ripped her blindfold off, the light stinging her eyes as she blinked.
The truck that the remaining prisoners were getting out of was banged up, the color faded and splashed with dust and ash. The soil was a deep black, and large mountains surrounded them. She could see a bay further down the mountain, a plethora of different ships docked, and a makeshift town surrounded the docks. Green filled the mountains and hills leading up to where they were. She squinted; where those rice farmers?
"Follow us!"
Chūjō looked over, a group of people in black and gray tartans stood in front of the group, weapons in hand, bits of tan feathers adorning their bodies. An older man bolted, shoving past her; Chūjō screamed as a shot rang out, his blood spraying onto the black soil. He slumped to the ground, his blood pooling.
"Anyone else got any bright ideas?" Chūjō looked over at the group; a large man was lowering a pistol, looking them over.
A woman shoved Chūjō forward with the butt of her rifle, forcing her to walk forward, following after the crowd. They hiked upwards; toward the top of the mountain they were on. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the scent of smoke, and bodily waste. Tents were strung up, large metal stakes encircling the camp at the mountains peak.
She interlocked her fingers, squeezing her hands as they entered the camp, the nauseating smells making her stomach churn. People bustled about the camp, tending to weapons, tanning hides, preparing food. They all wore the same black and gray tartans of their captors. She squeezed, nails biting into the back of her hands as she looked at the cages.
They were covered in tattoos, their clothes grimy and ragged. They watched her with hungry eyes; darting from her to the other captives.
She looked away from the cages, swallowing as they approached a large crowd standing around a large podium made of wood. There was a mix of people in the crowd; people in the black and gray tartans, the white suits of the SDC, and the colorful robes of Mistral.
They were led around the crowd; the murmuring voices of the crowd slowly dying down as they stood behind the podium.
Why is this happening?
She couldn't find her voice as she was dragged onto the podium, a woman in gray and black addressing the crowd.
Why am I not running?
The crowd screamed over each other, their eyes making her skin crawl, the same look in their gaze that the rice vendor would give her.
Those people in white, they would take me back to dad, right? They work for the SDC, they can't be bad people, dad wouldn't work with bad people.
A large man in a black and gray tartan stepped through the crowd, a large stack of lien in hand. He handed it to the woman, and grabbed the ropes binding Chūjō's hands. He led her through the camp, reaching a large tent.
Chūjō inhaled, her eyes widening.
A woman was locked in a cage, a filthy red dress clinging to her thin frame. Her hair was long, black, and her eyes a deep yellow.
The man drew a knife from his belt, cutting the ropes free from her wrists. She rubbed at them, grimacing at the weird sensation. The man went to the cage, unlocking it. The woman looked at him, fear in her eyes as she scrambled out of the cage.
Chūjō watched in confusion as the man handed the woman his knife. He looked over at her.
"Prove to me your life is worth the money I spent for it."
Chūjō screamed, ducking out of the way as the woman charged at her, slashing through the air. The woman whirled, pouncing at her with the knife. Chūjō moved aside, grabbing the woman's hair, pulling on it. The woman yelped and swung the knife.
Pain shot up her arm, blood falling down. Chūjō stumbled back, screaming louder as the woman yanked the knife free. The woman charged at her again. Chūjō grunted, the wind being knocked out of her as she was tackled to the ground. The woman raised the knife and swung down.
Blood spurted over her face, her voice hoarse as she screamed, the blade embedded in her palm. Her arms shook, straining against the woman. The woman shoved, the blade piercing further through her hand. Chūjō's thrashed around as the blade was forced down and down toward her chest.
She slammed her head into the woman's nose, feeling it break, blood spraying over her. She headbutted the woman again, forcing her back. Chūjō scrambled to her feet, yanking the knife free from her hand. The woman charged at her with a yell, blood soaking her hair. Chūjō screamed, thrusting the knife forward.
She heard a squish, and warm, sticky blood pooled over her hand. The woman couldn't breathe, her chest heaving.
Chūjō pulled the knife free, the woman groaning, falling onto her. Chūjō dropped the knife, sliding to the ground, the woman a weight against her.
The woman fell into the dirt, staring up at her as her heaving chest slowed. The woman's yellow eyes began to grow distant, glass like as they stared at her.
Chūjō's vision blurred, tears beginning to drip down. She felt herself tremble as the sobs rocked her. Oh Dust, she… she…
"What have I done?" she cried.
"Proven your worth."
She looked over her shoulder. The man was approaching her, that look in his eyes. That same look the rice vendor would have, that the crowd had had.
She shrunk back, trying to get away. She yelped as he grabbed her leg, yanking her back. She screamed as he grabbed her dress, tearing the front of it open, bits of black cloth going into the air.
"What are you doing?! No! Stop!" She kicked at him; he caught it, pinning her leg down, grabbing her other leg and spreading them apart. He chuckled, grabbing her underwear, his nails digging in as he tore at them. "Stop! Stop! Please, Dust, STOP!"
Has Dust forsaken me?
Tears dripping down as the needle went across her back, at the tattoo branding her.
What did I do to deserve this?
The sting of his palm across her face. "Your name is Hai now, got it?" The reek of booze on his breath.
Is this what this world is?
The confines of the cage, the cold feel of the dirt, the gnawing pain that was hunger.
Is this my life?
The stench of his body, his moaning her ears anguish, his thrusts her agony.
Who am I?
Blood dripping from the knife, the numbness inside as her replacement lay dead in the dirt.
What is a life worth? Dad always said everyone had a price, did he mean it like this?
The tiniest bits of meat from the bone, delicacies, every crumb and morsel.
How long have I been here? What year is it?
Hai leaned against the cage, watching as Liath drank from his bottle. He pulled it free from his lips, wiping the dribble with the back of his hand.
"Hai, tell me something." He said. He looked over at her, his eyes beady. "Do you believe in destiny?"
"I-I don't know." She said.
She watched him through the bars of her cage as he waved his hand in the air, drunkenly motioning with it.
"Is this shit all decided for us, Hai? Does the Feathered One decide how our lives will go as they soar through the cosmos on their six wings?" he snorted and spat; a sticky glob of phlegm wetting the dirt.
"Or do we have control over ourselves? Every awful thing that's happened to us isn't because some big space bird decide it would be that way, but because someone stronger than you made it that way." He guzzled from the bottle before lowering it again. "The people that run this world are the ones with power. The more ya got, the more destinies you control." He started to chuckle, looking her over. "Don't know why I'm talking about this with ya. Your destiny ended a long time ago."
Yang looked up from her scroll, scowling.
Raven was at her window, tapping at it with her beak. A scrap of paper was in her beak. Yang went to the window, sliding it to the side. Raven flew into the room, going to a dresser and dropping the paper. She cawed at her, motioning with her head at the paper.
"You know you could just change back and tell me in person." Yang said. Raven shook her head, cawing again before flying out the window.
Yang lifted up the scrap of paper, unfolding it and reading it over.
Two days. Go with Ruby. Bring weapons.
Yang frowned, looking back out the window.
Qrow rummaged through the cabinets of Ivory's kitchen, looking for the glasses. A bottle of whiskey sat on the counter, still wrapped. He grabbed a glass; just the right size.
"Qrow?" he turned, gasping as the glass slide from his hand, shattering. Ivory shrunk back, looking at the shards.
"Sorry, I'll clean this up. Thought I had a better grip on it." He said, going to a closet, looking for a broom and dustpan. Ivory nodded at him, stepping back.
"Ruby said she wanted to speak with you." She said. He stopped, looking over at her.
"What about?" Ivory shook her head.
"She didn't say. Just that it was really important." He looked over at the shattered glass and the bottle of whiskey. He exhaled, pulling the broom and dustpan out.
"Alright, tell her I'll be there in a minute."
Destiny?
Hai ran her hand through the dirt, feeling it against her skin.
Is this really all I am? Is this… my destiny?
She frowned, her lip curling, a heat growing inside of her, the dirt growing uncomfortable.
I'm just going to live like this, as nothing more than a sex toy until my replacement kills me.
She gasped, sparks and flames consuming the dirt, glass forming. She ran her finger over it, inhaling sharply at the pain, pulling her finger back. Blood trickled down.
She smiled.
She looked over her shoulder. Liath was sleeping on his cot, his bottle resting in the dirt.
She grabbed the glass, savoring the feeling of it cutting into her palm. She grabbed a hold of the bars with one hand, forcing that fire into it, watching it as it began to melt.
She stepped through the molten metal, gripping the glass, going to him.
Her lip twitched as she looked at him, at the filth that he was.
"Liath." He grunted, his eyes slowly opening. He stared at her in confusion, the sleep leaving his eyes. "Do you believe in destiny?" she asked.
She plunged the glass into his throat with a yell, the shock and pain in his eyes the greatest pleasure she had known in Dust knows how long.
She stabbed again and again into his throat, blood spraying over her hands as she decapitated that inhuman creature.
It's not about how much power they have, it's about taking away what power they have
"Tell me your name, girl." She glanced down at her arms, at the blood and soot covering them. She looked behind her, at the flames engulfing the slavers camp, the locks of her hair laying in the dirt. Sparks and cinders wafted from the flames, falling onto the remains of her hair. She watched her hair start to smolder, the cinders turning to a raging flame. She heard herself start to laugh, tears dripping down, the knife trembling in her hand.
"Call me Cinder."