Hello, and happy Valentine's Day! And I have a very interesting Valentine letter for all of you today!
Gilgamesh50: Your welcome for those Goosebumps! My very good friend Venatores can't change, very easily mind you. He has placed his creed deep within his mind and heart. So long as people can become beasts, he can never change. He's like Batman in that manner.
FlaberJaber: Why thank you! It means a lot to hear that. But the best ones on this site are usually made by my main man Paricious. A writer who specifically writes Fate/Stay Night crossovers, and one of my favorite stories. Fate in Time. Good action, romance with the best girl, and more mysteries than answers. What more could a guy want?
Tsun: I can understand that. Idiotic hotheads can be extremely frustrating if done wrong, or otherwise. Mostly because they don't own up to there mistakes or take actions to avoid such things.
The only difference between Yang and Most of Fairy Tail, is that I can manage to actually stand the characters for a hundred episodes or more.
Also, the Fairy Tail people can actually be hilarious!
Scaresse: Indeed. Beware that shadowed line.
GrimDragon: Not necessarily bad. It has to be framed like those romantic sitcoms though. "I hated you, but now I am in love with you." It's something I don't particularly like… or most shipping for that matter. But, I can see it happening.
As long as Ven can open up…
It's going to take a long while.
Axcell: I agree with you. But I can't exactly show it in Vale. They and Vacuo fought together to end slavery and give Faunus equal rights. I'm not saying everyone is down for this change, but I'd think there would be less of it in Vale. Then there's Vacuo, who holds strength above all else. No time for Racism if you have shitty borders, agricultural issues, Grimm infestation, lack of trust to neighboring kingdoms due to them taking every single resource to fight in a war Vacuo didn't want to be a part of. Of course, humans and Faunus can be stupid, but it's survival over stupididy right now.
Mistral and Atlas should have been the worst offenders, seeing as how they wanted to keep it. Something that I can't show while we are still in Vale.
And while I'm on this topic, how did Marrow become an Ace Op without some form of Backlash. 'Atlas is the worst for Faunus' my ass. Dude was practically handed Ace Op because of his Semblance. If that place was really racist, they would have turned him down despite the Semblance.
MyMazeMan: Thank you very much, I apparently have a thing for horror!
Rnji: Your right. Ven is a beast among men. Isn't that what a Hunter of Hunters is? A hypocritical title that, when you think deep enough, is just another way to say Beast? Eileen kills those who are Blood drunk/addled, so that they don't become true Beasts.
And, you forget, you can only obtain that Wheel Hunter badge in two ways. Killing Alfred… Or seeing the True Alfred.
For does he not embody the Church's Beast like obsession?
Grimmsoul1: Why thank you for the Ozpin compliment, he was more fun to write than I thought he would. And thank you for noticing the introverted side of things. Ven is way to guarded and to the point, while Blake is both scared and hateful towards Ven.
And thank you for the compliment on my favorite part of the chapter, The Wheel Hunter Badge! I was planning on quoting Marty Logarius, but then I saw his Wheel and thought, 'why doesn't the badge have something similar.' Then it popped into my head. I have loved it ever since.
Adam will not be the Envy filled hunter he was in the show. His duty is to protect his brothers and sisters. That is who he is.
Even I didn't notice that parallel! I wrote it cause it felt right. The person who understands what happens when everything goes too far, helping one on the verge of the line. The other, a knight who was in Jaunes shoes a long time ago. It just fit.
Thank you for the wonderful Review. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
The Devout Believer: True, I have focused on Venatores a lot. I should focus on Mors, in his own special way. :)
SAO for Life: Indeed he did.
Student: Indeed Mors and Ven would have a higher chance. BUt, as Ozpin is beginning to learn, this team comes with it's own hassales. I also, wonder when he began to grow crazy. And of course, she now knows better than to mess with the eldritch might of Venatores Luna.
Teddy: Thank you for the like, as for Ven's possible changes and for them becoming pawns, we will have to wait and see. Also, thank you for respecting that it is indeed my story. Even with only nineteen chapters under my belt I have had some requests to, 'Change this now!' So I thank you for the respect.
Guest: Thank you very much, it is one of my personal favorite moments that I've written. As for the mind fuck, again, we shall see, won't we.
Young1liv: This badge indeed exists in the Bloodborne Universe but is noted as just a badge of those who follow the Martyr Logarius. (Even gives a really good quote 'Acts of goodness are not always wise, and acts of evil are not always foolish, but regardless, we shall always strive to be good.`) A man of the church, who would bash heretics with a giant Catherine/Breaking Wheel (Ancient torure device. (You want to know how it works, look up 'Berserk Breaking Wheel' Animation is horrible, but it'll get the point across). After a while the Wheel started being soaked in the ires of the dead that it killed. It was such a symbol of Logarius, they renamed it to the Logarius Wheel. Then, when the Martyr was left in the Forsaken Castle Cainhurst to rot after murdering almost everyone there, the Wheel Hunters, Aka The Executioners, did more killing in his name. Specifically those filled with the Blood of Cainhurst, or as they like to call it, the Vilebloods. We learn even more so by an NPC named Alfred of the Executioners. Scary fucker he is. (Again, if you wish, Look up "Alfred killing the Queen of Vilebloods.")
I, however, added the ability that the small badge, a collectible that increases things you can buy from the merchants, does something similar. It collects the ires across your entire body into a single thing, so you can see the amount you have killed. That comes across as tortured red skulls, fighting for attention. And, since the Executioners are so obsessed with killing, I would like to think the badge is used in the manner explained in the chapter.
So, while it exists in the game, the ability I gave it is of my own design, boosted by the lore of the Executioners.
Ozilla: Indeed, indeed. To denounce the Chosen Undead and the Good Hunter as anything less than a king/queen, would be the same as renouncing all their achievements. Also, nice job. For reviewers, you are the first to notice that Ven doesn't care about his hypocrisy. Beasts exist, therefore he must hunt. Or, as stated, A Hunter must Hunt.
The Right Price: There will be some changes like that, yes, But I don't consider this an AU. As for Blake never killing anyone, I would like to call Bull. Six years or more she was part of a terrorist organization, taught to kill and fight Humans. The fact that she doesn't have a kill count is a shock. Even if she did something as simple as throw a Molotov at a building there would be deaths she would be responsible for.
Vincentburns343: I think it has less to do with that, though you do have a point, but more to do with Ven will be difficult to get on their side. Mors, thorough his words, is like a knight. The moment he knows there is trouble, he'll be like Ruby. 'How can I help!' Ven, however, without some kind of trust, would be give a Flat no. Even if he sees Amber, if he doesn't trust anyone he won't listen to them.
Also, Mors' thing can be explained as Op semblance (Endurance), simple magic with great effects (Pyromancy) and overall outstanding physical prowess (Strength) and experience. Ven's however can't be explained correctly in the Ruby Universe.
Now lets get to Despair Remnants!
Chapter 19
Memories and Preminitons
Venatores
They came faster than any beast in the world. Each blade like a single curved claw, swiping at me with perfect accuracy. Even if I had my gun, these swings would be too fast to get any proper aim off.
I lifted up the dagger-like sword, blocking one of the blades coming towards me. The strike bouncing off it's twin in a show of sparks, each one practically blinding me.
But I kept my eyes open, looking for that second claw that would be coming towards me.
It was only out of the corner of my eye, did I see it.
But by then it was already too late.
I could feel it, from my shoulder all the way down to my hip. A single cleanslash, one that grazed my ribs and practically left a thin crisp line in them.
A painful heat spread throughout my body, as I grabbed the wound in a panic. Trying to keep the blood, the fat, the organs and even the thick marrow of my bones in my body.
My eyes were already beginning to blur. Maybe because of the panic, or the continuing loss of blood. Even after so many situations like it, I could still never tell.
I went back as far as I could, grabbing a single vial that could seal the wound better than by any stitches could. Plunging it into my leg with enough force to pierce even the thick bone in my leg.
But I was too slow… or perhaps the old crow was too fast.
The vial was shot out of my hand. A painful cry echoing out of my lungs, as the bullet impacted my elbow. Blood spilling out of it like a small fountain.
My arm fell limply to my side, both out of pain and the weakness that was beginning to fill into my core.
But my teacher wasn't done.
Before I knew it, I was looking into her pure white mask. Her hand outstretched behind her, forming a spear small enough to get through the gaps of the rib cage.
My heart no longer beat, my lungs didn't intake any air. They were dead… unable to do anything from the loss of blood, and the damage sustained. I didn't feel fear, anxiety, nothing… in that moment I was gone, fading away.
But she did it anyway.
Her hand shot forward, faster than anything she did previously. But it was almost slow and monotonous to my dying mind. I could practically see each movement happening the second that it did. The thin rope wrapped around her gauntlet, serving as small tiny protection to her thin arms.
Then I felt it… it was only a sliver of the pain I should've been in. A deep pain that had spread all the way down to my toes. It even traveled deep through my blood, bringing the pain in small waves across my body.
Then the hand twitched one final time…
And I screamed as I awoke from the nightmare. My newest sword out before I could even register what was happening around me. Something grabbing my hand like a vice, restricting my movement forcing me to remain sitting, a beast ready to kill me. All I could do was turn my blade into a reverse grip, ready to stab the head of the thing in fro-
"Brave Hunter." A kind and gentle voice spoke, one that brought me back and stopped the blade better than any instinct could. "It is alright."
I looked around slowly, the surroundings coming into view again. The tightness in my every muscle was beginning to fade, as I filled my lungs with the thick incense.
Odeon Chapel… it was a place quite similar to the Hunter's Dream. A safe haven for the unfortunate people of Yharnam, to protect them against the night.
It was practically abandoned, and unkept. Cobwebs and dust, broken pillars, cracked edges, and peeling paints. Even the statues of the gods of Yharnam were left to decay, looking more like gothic monsters than any god…
And yet, this was Yharnam. Perhaps they praised such things as gods, in hopes of their benevolence?
Thick and heavy jars surrounding me, filled to the brim with thick perfumes and incense. Each one capable of blocking out beasts for the foreseeable future. At least until the morning came. Hundreds of candles were strewn around, each one with its own thick scent and heavy illumination. Bring a modest light to what should have been a dark and eerie chapel.
Drapes were set across the entire ceiling, each one used to help open and close the large incense chandelier at the base of the chapel. The smoke, a deep and dark purple, held a sweet and faint scent of lavender.
A smell that mixed with every other smell, making any one in the chapel won't leave as fast as possible…
Beasts, even more so.
There were four doors, each of them leading to a separate place. The one behind me led to the Odeon Tomb, a tomb for those who've died for the Healing Church.
The one to the left brought you to a similar graveyard, one filled with hunters from long ago. Each grave rotting away, falling piece by piece to the ground. A single well in the center, a water source that no one went to anymore.
Forward was a road, one used to bring the blessed corpses down to be buried. Or, for the damned souls and traitors, to be sent to the channel lane.
At least have their marrow be used for something.
But to the right was a Hunters Workshop, one abandoned and overrun with beasts. Rising like a tower over Yharnam, containing every weapon the Church could ever need… alongside a mystery, that I could not yet comprehend.
I looked down the trapped arm, my eyes gaining the clarity needed to truly see, the panic and fear subsiding with the knowledge of safety…
Replacing it was something I found much worse. A spindly little feeling that crawled directly from the heart that had just been pierced and into the face. Like a crawling spider climbing through my veins and to my face.
She was kneeling beside me, her face practically in front of me. So close that I could practically count each eyelash on her eyes, could feel the presence of her nose so close to my own. Brown eyes staring out from behind them, looking at me with rapt attention. Even the small maddened scream in the corner did not distract her gaze.
Black hair framed her pure white face, one that, despite the Night of the Hunt, looked well groomed and kept. The long braid falling across her shoulder, weaved perfectly and symmetrically all the way down. The end, however, curved like a small scorpion tail.
I managed to look down, moving quickly past her lips, once more far too close for any of my comfort. Despite myself, noting how thick and full they were a true pink color that would shock most men. The uncomfortable feeling turning into a raging fire, one that barely laid under control.
I looked down even further, my face feeling like a small bonfire. Looking towards the hand that was trapped like a vice. Both of her hands, concealed within the pure white gloves of the healing church, grasped around my own. It was as if she was praying over me, using my hand as a medium to do so. Her chin practically rested on my very own hand.
Nevertheless, I still wretched it away, the arm coming off easily as she let go with a satisfied smile on her face. The feeling dying away the farther I got away from her. A fire dying down to the smallest of embers.
Her clothes were of a simple sort… all black with only the simplest hints of white. A thick black scarf that fell across her chest, covering the pure white bodice underneath. A long, thick, dress that swerved as a minor protection from the beasts.
An attire of the nuns of the Healing Church, specifically for the Blood Saint, Adella. An innocent beauty that I had never seen before.
Adella had been like this ever since I saved her from that dreaded village. Always at my heel, ready to answer my every beck and call.
It was a tad disturbing, as it was embarrassing. A Blood Saint treating me as the gods she prayed to.
A beautiful woman, who would practically listen to my every request…
I shook my head, a voice sounding out from the far corner of the Odeon Chapel, breaking me from my mind. A voice that brought a certain amount of annoyance that managed to douse the fire.
"Knock it off!" The man spoke, the voice echoing across into my ears. Rattling my brain with unneeded annoyance and anger. "Can't I get some peace!"
I turned my head toward the noise, quickly standing up so I can look past the other residents. I saw the faintest glimmer of a man, wearing only a couple of raggedy Yharnimite clothes. His hat perfectly in position to block his face from anyone seeing. Looking around as if one of the defenseless residents would attack at any moment.
He was sitting upon a statue in the corner, all sides protected. Only one way to get to him, and it was the one he was looking at constantly.
I knew nothing about him. He didn't even have a name for us to call him. Just a Skeptical Man, who valued himself above everyone else in the room.
Despite that, I did have a name for him. One that brought the tiniest of smiles to my face, as it always made him go off on a rampage.
He was Skep. Skep T. Cal
"Are you alright?" A second female voice at my side spoke, as I looked down.
She was sitting comfortably in her chair, something that managed to be provocative. Probably due to lots of practice and understanding. She was pale to, pale like the face of the moon. Shoulder length blonde hair tumbling down from her head, like streaks of light. Her eyes a dazzling bright blue, something that alone could entrance men noble or otherwise. Her lips blood red, the only piece of makeup that laid across her face and usually set into a natural sultry smile.
She wore a thin dress, one that could barely block out any of the cold. A vibrant yellow stripe flowing down the middle of her body. With patterns of crests and lions embroidered on its chest. Twisting and turning like a river with the manner she was sitting, the ruffles managing to look like waves across an ocean. The rest of the dress was a deep red, like a fresh crimson blood. Flowers and their stems dancing across the red sea in an invisible wind. On her forearms were yellow veil like sleeves, covering her skin, yet showing it to the world.
It was a dress fit for a noble, a single piece of a complete set that would distinguish any lady in any sort of gathering.
But for her it was an allure. A thing that attracted men of all stature and houses. A thing that would get her looked at, even on this night of all nights.
An effective Lady of the Night, Arianna was.
But she was not on duty, and her smile was set into a thick red frown. Her hand was already reaching for my arm, in a show of comfort.
Strangely, the fire didn't spread across my face… instead it was a cool and calming river, one that seemed to put everything into place.
It was like a small piece of nostalgia had managed to swim into my mind. Replacing her figure with in that was eerily close to my own.
"This is the fifth time you screamed in your sleep." Arianna's hand finally met mine, pulling me gently closer to her, as if she could find the cause of my frights. Ignorant of the true reason they were happening, and unable to cure such an ailment. "Come here, let me get a better-"
But I was pulled back before she could even finish. A heavy pull that broke the light grip that Arianna had on me. Her frown became more pronounced and unpleasant as she turned her gaze.
"He doesn't need comfort." The voice was close to my ear, to the point where I could practically feel her breath. A warm breath that tickled my ear, blood spreading across my body, forcing that feeling back into my chest. I barely even registered what was said, only able to focus on the breath.
I turned around, taking a small cautionary step backwards. Whether it was for my safety or the innocent nun, I could not tell. Adella's face smiling as she began to take off her glove.
And the thin, yet long knife out of a sheath across her back.
It was practically a short sword. A shortsword the curved inward before going outward, more reminiscent of a scimitar. Even from a good distance, one could see the sharpness of the knife. One used to serve as a simple protection against the beasts when needed.
It was no Trick Weapon, but it would slice off the heads of most beasts.
"Here Hunter," The knife closing in on the palm of her hand, a queasy upset feeling entering my gut as it plunged closer. "A bit of my blood will calm you down."
Before the Sister even swiped the blade, I grabbed her forearm. Stopping the wicked creation in its tracks before it could even take the blood it craved.
She looked up, her large brown eyes appearing wider as I grabbed her.
"I-I'm fine, Sister…" I weakly smiled at her with some reassurance, happy that I stopped her spilling blood on the ground. "Really."
Even now, despite being a guest of Yharnam for who knows how long, such methods remained sickening. The sight of blood being used in such a manner still managed to make me feel sick…
But, I suppose it was a good thing, seeing as what it did to the residents of Yharnam.
But the nuns face fell into another frown, her eyes shifting over slightly. Right past my shoulder, an unreadable expression surfacing.
She always did this… staring past me when I denied her offer of blood. A thing she had tried to do many times, despite the short while she had been here.
Perhaps it was a Hero worship, trying to do whatever she could to help me? Or, by the rarest of chances, a fancy? After all she couldn't fight, the very least she could do was fret and care for me.
"Fine, he says!" The man in the corner screamed out, my attention shifting to him out of sheer annoyance. His hat still clearly obscured everything about him. "Wailing like a child in the night, and yet say yer fine!"
"Still just a lying outsider, you are."
Outsider… it was under the same vein as what I experienced as a child.
Cursed.
Filth.
I was used to it… but that spark still laid deep within my memories. One that just needed any excuse to leap out.
But the excuse wasn't going to be this small… Despite my gripes, Skep was still a person.
Besides, someone was already beating me too it.
"You shouldn't talk to him like that." The night woman spoke, my attention turning to her as she did so. The tiniest of scowls still on her face, staring at the man I knew to be her neighbor. A small bit of airy wisp to her voice, as she always did. "He brought you here to safety, a little respect is the least you could do."
Arianna was always like this… defending me, as much as she could manage, from insults.
Perhaps she understood what it was like to be called something. Something that you couldn't retort, in fear of what you built falling to the ground.
But I knew his retort was already formed. Formed since the moment he entered the chapel, and even spoke it to me, right in my face.
"I brought me'self here!" Skep complained for the hundredth time this night, a groan already formed on my lips. "The outsider wanted me to go to some clinic in the center of Yharnam! The bloody center of the hunt!"
"I, however, expected such a thing…" The pride clear in his voice, as if he managed to find a means to stop the hunt. At least then, people might actually start to listen to him. "Thus, I made my way here."
"Lotta good that did," Skep continued,his movements blurry from the distance I was from him. A clear hint of disdain in his voice, as the hat turned to the many doors. "We're not safe here at all, no doors, weapons, guns or anything here at all. None that he'd give us anyway." A heated glare hitting the side of my face, practically being hit by the invisible gaze. Right before he let out one last sentence, one filled with a slight fear.
"What happens when one of those things crawl in here?"
The mood transformed with that sentence… what was once a safe and calm place had become one of fear and tension. All because Skep decided to open his mouth, and start spreading that toxin.
"There's enough incense here to protect you." My voice came out exasperated, as I had explained this many times before. I even began moving on of the many jars, shaking it so that they could hear the sloshing perfumes.
"Say's you an' the blind one!" The man spoke up, his voice filled with anger. Pointing to the far corner, where a simple red cloth lay hermit sleeping in comfortable bliss unable to hear what he was saying. "You know what this is? An offering to them damned things… once that incense wears off we're as good dead. All so that blind one and the bloody outsider can live ano-".
"Enough!" A scream went past me, turning to its source, knives out in case it was a danger. You can never be too careful, no matter how safe the chapel was. Facing the origin of the scream.
It was Adella, her hands shaking as if they were a leaf in a storm. A look of both anger and fear clear on her face, as she looked at Skep.
At the same time, a shrill cry echoed throughout the room. It was a cry filled with madness, speaking words that were practically a foreign language. A weird language that drew my attention and mind to it.
But it was just the old woman… the one who now laid in a corner, clutching her mind in a fetal position. Her face that was once filled with practically hatred was now an empty husk. The only time it had ever moved was to let out the shrieks and mumbles.
Every single one of us had tried to help her…
But the closer I got, or anyone for that matter, the louder and more frequent she screamed. Even Skep looked as if he was growing concerned… probably out of self interest, wondering if he'd get it.
I walked a little closer to Adella, the action almost instantly bringing a small smile to her face. The shaking of her entire being quieting also. As if I was some strange calming element to her.
Skep's voice echoed throughout the chapel once more, this time quiet, almost embarrassed. "Beg pardon Young Saint." His voice was honest and sincere, the first I had ever heard from him. "Didn't mean to make you scared."
"I'm not afraid…" her hand reaching out for my own with the speed of a Blood Starved Beast. A feat that spread a small piece of fear, enough to almost slash at out of pure instinct. "As long the Hunter is here, we shall remain safe under his protection."
Her grip was tight on my hand, not enough to break it, but to know it was there. Almost like a child ensuring that the parent was there. A small comfort.
The only difference was that it was a young woman, looking at me with a reverence unmatched. Her brown eyes glowed as she gazed into mine.
"Won't we, Brave Hunter."
The fire built itself again, her strange gaze acting as some form of flint and steel. Each second her eyes were on mine seeming to make it hotter, right to the point where I could feel it in my blood.
I turned my head avoiding her gaze, her smile slightly wider in my peripheral. Perhaps pleased or endeared by my reactions, or just thinking me sheepish and seeing it as another virtue.
Yes, very strange…
It was still very welcome, over the sneers and constant threats of death by others.
Regrettably, or thankfully as it distracted Adella's gaze, the fire dying down, a voice echoed throughout the room. One that managed to shift Adella's absolute devotion to a look of insult.
"You can at least call him by his name." The woman of the night spoke, a hand blocking her mouth. Probably to conceal the entertained smile behind it. "I'm sure he doesn't like being called 'Hunter' all the time."
"Right," A single eye closed in a wink, a playful tone entering her voice. "Venatores?"
A small chuckle echoed out of my lungs, both at the wink and the use of my name. It had been awhile since I heard it, at least not in a manner like that… In fact, I rarely even heard the name Hunter be used like that.
Really, only two beings were the only ones to make me feel such safety. Adella's words of praise were fine, but they lacked a certain feeling… a feeling deep within, that I couldn't quite decipher.
Even still it felt good to be noticed as something humanesque, instead of something that threaded the line between.
A small smile began to bloom on my face, an occurrence that was beginning to grow rare. This night made certain of it, the living nightmare that one had to survive.
A harsh scoff echoed through the Chapel, and into my ear. The sister walked past me, her face hidden from my view. An arm stretched out in front of me, as if trying to protect me from anything Arianna could do.
An action that brought an equally rare scowl on my face.
"Do not degrade him as such!" The sister spoke towards Arianna, her playful expression still on her face. The only change was the brightness within her eyes being sapped away as she looked at the Saint. "He may hold a name, but his standing shall always be uttered first and foremost! Only his betters or equals should even hold an inkling of his name."
"It's fine…" The smile was still on Arianna's face, as she shifted ever so slightly. Her face now fully pointing to the nun in question, keeping that same playful attitude. Only the tight grip on the arm of the chair betrayed her true mood. "He doesn't seem to mind it anyway."
The Saint didn't even turn around to look at me, her full attention on Arianna. The flippant manner of the Lady of the Night making her gasp, as if what she said was akin to disgracing the nuns gods.
"It is not for him to decide!" Her tone was filled with outrage, and frustration. As if she had spoken this to her, hundreds of times over. "Saying his name first is akin to calling The Holy Blade a meager squire!"
They have always been like this… ever since Adella first appeared within the Chapel the two have fought like cats and dogs. I don't understand how they got off on the wrong foot so quickly, but they did.
The result was a multitude of arguments…
All of which were initiated by Adella. The prime excuse to always yell at the other the same thing every time.
The Church and Arianna's occupation. Both of which came back around to me. Pulling me away from Arianna, as if she was some disease that mingled in the chapel.
It was the most infuriating thing about Adella. Her contempt towards the lady of the night, who was trying to make a living. Who was trying to survive alongside us.
What was wrong with that?
Sadly, there was only one way to stop it...
"Calm down." I managed to speak out, her attention quickly shifting to me. A strange shadow obscured her face for the faintest of seconds, before revealing her usual face. Her brown eyes staring expectantly at me, as if waiting for an order. The fire fading into the very depths of my soul, replaced with something different. "It's fine, she just didn't know."
It was probably there that she saw the scowl on my face. Her face shifting to the tiniest hint of worry, before a stony expression replaced it. One that could only belong to the devout believers of the Church.
"You are too kind, Brave Hunter." Even now she tried to compliment me, mistaking common courtesy for kindness. She walked forward grabbing my arm again. "But, the laws of the Church stand above your kindness."
Of course they did… I turned my head, looking diagonally upwards into the very corner of the chapel. But I could already see past the thick buildings and grey sky…
The grandiose design of the cathedral… all made, to protect a single person. Each of them dying over and over again, just to protect that place.
Yes, the Church and it's Vicar were the distributors of blood. They held all the blood in Yharnam, distributing it for all to have.
Even in their mindless state, the Church's Servant and Giants populated the street. Protecting and stopping anyone, human or otherwise, from gaining access to the Cathedral.
Yes… to those with such power, how could their laws not stand amidst the gods?
"Brave Hunter?"
I turned back, looking downward at Adella. Her expression now entirely filled with worry and small bits of panic, as she gave me another small tug. Like a small dog on a leash, trying to pull me away from an unsavory location. I stood there, planted in the ground. Thoughts of the church kept me grounded on my feet, as if I was just outside the safety of the chapel.
The panic and worry seemed to grow every second on her face. Her thoughts were easy and simple to read for me, as they were in the depths of the unseen village.
She was practically like a child. Thinking back to everything she had done. Thinking about everything that she had to apologize for. All so she didn't get in trouble.
A thing that would have left her a small mess, remembering the last time I left her alone. Constant muttering about what she might've done wrong filling the entirety of the chapel. A constant stream of apologies for even the smallest things the moment I returned.
One would almost call it adorable, if it didn't lay so close to the verge of obsessiveness. Less a Saint, more akin to a lost child.
Despite the present anger, pity grew in my heart. The scowl on my face disappearing with a long drawn out sigh. The tiniest of smiles replacing it. Sadly, the piece of anger could be felt deep down waiting in the very pit of my mind.
"It's nothing." The effect was almost instant. Her smile returned to its usual brilliance, pulling me gently along.
I looked to my left, seeing Arianna staring at the scene. Her eyes remained in the deep sea blue, a state of contempt barely hidden towards the nun. Her eyes turned toward me slightly, the color brightening to its usual color.
Then she smiled then gave a little nod as if she was reading my mind. Turning away ever so slightly, as if used to people pushing her away. The guilt of just leaving making my stomach weigh the same as a Church Giant.
Forever the black sheep.
It was barely even a second when we arrived at her usual little dwelling. Right between two of the pillars, one of them fallen over which made a perfect little seat.
"Now then…" The nun started, her hand reaching towards the small knife on her back once more. A thing that brought the queasy feeling back. She turned around a smile on her face, as if she wasn't about to slice her wrist open.
"I told you," The edge was back in my voice, one born from disgust and worry. My hand was already reaching towards the blade, ready to just take it off of her. "I'm fine."
But the movement was swift and steady. Even after so many of those nightmares, I was still too slow to see such a move.
It was in line with someone who practiced everyday. Each time for any passerby or scion of the Healing Church.
Perhaps it was just because of the scare, but it was the first time I really saw the scars. Long vertical ones all across her arm, each one deep within the skin. But I wasn't able to get a real look at the scars…
A blood river… one who's source was her very wrist, slowly moving downward to the palm of her hand. A small lake that began to drain, right into a small tube she replaced the knife with.
It was gruesome, especially as the smile on her face seemed to grow even fonder. It was certainly a dark and eerie sight.
It was only when the river began to dry, and the lake was fully swept away, that she offered it to me. The liquid moved sluggishly within the thin glass.
"I must insist."
I took the smallest of steps back, a slight fear entering me. It was disgusting enough, taking the blood of monsters just to survive. Now I was taking it from an innocent woman, who seemed to smile fondly at blood draining from herself…
Then there was that smell.
It was thick and sticky, almost like the nectar of honey. Sweet, but not too sweet to force me to gag.
But the strangest part… there was nothing else. Just the pure sweet honey. Where the rest of Yharnam held the blood of a petri dish. Blood from every source all meeting in one body from multiple Blood Ministrations.
All my attention was on the single vial. Even the thick incense couldn't rid me from the smell.
It was disgusting to see it up close, from something more human… but, it would be a lie to say the smell alone made it worth it. The curiosity in my mind wanting to grasp it and use it then and there.
Would it feel different? Would it feel better than the soothing warmth that filled me with each injection.
The smell of the blood became stronger, as if telling me yes.
But it was disgusting...
Before I could even understand it, my hand reached out ever so slightly. It was like it was beckoning me. I could barely even stop myself… as it reached closer and closer.
Something wanted it…
Something needed it.
…
That alone, was enough to push the damned thing away.
"I'm…" I began, the inhuman part within me forcing me to stutter. It wanted me to apologize, to beg for the blood. But I pushed it further in response. "I'm fine."
I looked upward, expecting to see the usual disappointment in Adellas face.
"Fledgling!"
I turned around, Adellas expression a mere blur. My body went fully rigid, arms up in a manner to protect myself. Looking with all my might to see the incoming gunshot, knife throw, or the crow diving to stab me in the gut.
All she did was stand there in the entry way, a pure white mask staring directly at me. Face hidden from everyone in the chapel. Everyone who saw her was smart enough to remain quiet, or become smaller to avoid her gaze.
All except one.
"Another one?" Skep's voice rang out, a thing that caused me a minor dread and happiness. For certainly, Skep was going to get hurt if he kept talking. "Just what we need, a scourge of foreigners."
Sadly, she ignored Skep opting to instead walk closer to me. The piece of adrenaline in me growing within seconds. Each step quiet and deliberate.
She only stopped in front of me. The beak of her mask practically touching my face. Black dots for eyes, staring into my own purple ones.
"Why did you deserve that end?"
My skin crawled at that reminder of my waking up. My single sword falling at my side, as I thought back to the fight we had…
Fight, however, wasn't the proper term.
Slaughter would be better.
"I wasn't fast enough," A small hint of fear in my tone, something Eileen seemed to always be pleased at. Even now, the mask tilted slightly upwards, a sign that she was being pleased. A tilt that I always tried to earn in case of her ire. "Got caught trying to heal myself."
But that pungent atmosphere remained, trying to drown me in the fear she was creating for me.
"Umm…" My mouth managed, the arms of Eileen crossing over the other, continuing to look at me. A telltale sign that it wasn't enough. "I wasn't blocking well enough. A-and my dodges weren't fluid enough."
She didn't move, looking at me from the tiny eyes of her crow mask. The seconds drew on for longer and longer as I waited for the inevitable response.
"If you know that," Eileen stated suddenly, the voice a bare whisper in the night. My hand shook slightly at that voice, for there was an edge of danger around it. Despite it's human sound, it was practically a growl from a dangerous beast. One filled with warning and danger. "Then why do you keep making the same mistakes."
She stood there staring. Staring as I tried to find the answer that was needed. My tongue making absent minded movements, the thick atmosphere of fear making it swollen and useless. "I-I…"
"Please," The voice behind me spoke, using the same sweet and innocent voice she always had. "Crow Hunter"
But this one wasn't appreciated… no, this one practically lit the fire in me once again. That angry and cruel fire.
I am not a child.
I do not need your fretting in front of my teacher.
I can speak for myself.
But it was already too late. Eileen turned her head ever so slightly, as if regarding the nun for the very first time.
"He's not yet ready to answer your questions." Adellas voice was full of confidence, possibly from the Hunter regarding her. Perhaps unafraid of whatever came, or hearing tales of the Hunter of Hunters. "He still needs some blood bef-"
"He would be ready," Eileen quickly interrupted, not even allowing her to finish. The bone white mask turned right back, looking at me as she continued. "If you did not speak for him. Nor does he need your blood, not while he has his Vials."
The smallest laugh, perhaps one born of nervousness, sounded behind me, before the chapel went completely silent. Leaving me to my own thoughts. My tongue was still thick in my mouth, but it moved well enough..
Perhaps it was that tiny piece of satisfaction? One born from the way she had spoken to Adella.
Of course, it was a rude and crude thing to do. Speaking to a nun like that, of course it was…
But, that piece of satisfaction remained there nonetheless.
It was shattered the moment I remembered Eileen was still staring at me. Looking at me with her usual unseen judgement. Like a crow watching a human, practically waiting for it to drop dead.
"I am still used to how I was doing things before." My words were quick, as I stated to her what I felt, the times of using such weapons ingrained in me. Powering through the strong blows of the beasts to get the perfect hit in.
The method of buffoons, as Eileen liked to call it. Even I had to agree, slightly.
She stood there, the mask staring at me. My eyes remaining on the piece, trying not to look away in some manner of fear. Her entire body was still, which practically left me blind to what she was feeling.
Then, she seemed to take the tiniest step forward. A thing that increased every feeling that I was currently feeling. I could practically feel the beak on my own nose, alongside the incense inside it.
Was that the wrong answer?
Was that a failure?
Maybe I missed something from the previous battle?
The longer that feeling remained, the more these questions kept adding up. Stuck in my head, unable to decide which was right or wrong. Remains there, waiting for her to speak leaving me toiling within my doubt.
"Do you like making the wrong choices, Venatores?"
Then it disappeared…
I looked directly ahead, a scream almost in the back of my head. An illusion that happened many times. Whenever a beast roared, the screams as they die, it was in every little action.
It sounded like a child's .
A feeling of inferiority rose in me. A helpless panic, that I barely kept at bay, was quick to follow it.
The stench of a sewer and bloods d thousand of corpses.
The sight of two mangled bodies. Each of them helpless and without choice. Forced to do this, because they believed it to be the only way.
All because of one wrong thing.
"No."
It wasn't a shout, but it might as well have been. It filled the hall, it filled everything, as if it were a thick liquid. The person behind me shuffled, a scream of madness echoed out as if responding. Maybe even some quizzical glances. As if they wanted to get away from the liquid that would try to drown them.
But Eileen stood there, unmoving. It was like the first time we met. Practically still as a statue as we both stared at the other. Waiting for one to make a single move.
Then the crow nodded. It was a small nod, probably meant to go unseen, but it was there. It was something that made we want to smile with her.
Then she spoke again.
"Outside."
All that confidence disappeared with a mighty shiver flowing through my body. One that shook from my mind all the way down to the tips of my fingers. My feet were already moving towards the door in a uniform fashion. As if spurred by her command.
A small laugh came out from behind the mask, something that managed to sound grim, as she turned to the archway. Seeing the clear change in attitude, or maybe just at witnessing another one of my pathetic crawl towards death.
Then something grabbed my hand. Which, once more, nearly made me slice another head off out of surprise.
Once more, it was just Adella. Standing there, as if trying to comfort me before what she couldn't even understand.
But her face told a different story… for it held a tiny shadow of desperation. A small frown purely across her face.
"He's still not ready." A twinge of fear entered me at those words. Eileen slowly turned her head to look at the Saint. My mouth going dry, forcing me not to speak a warning to the Church Member.
The Crow didn't like only a few things, from what I could gather. She despised those who rely purely on strength. Members of the church who abused the name of Hunter…
And, worst of all, she didn't like those who go against what she spoke. Even now, with the limited experience I had with the Hunter of Hunters, I was probably the only one she allowed for it to happen.
And that was only because she liked me. A rare treat, so I've been told.
"After such… nightmares," I turned back towards her, fast enough to feel my neck crack. Even Eileen's feather cloak seemed to bristle at the word she used. One filled with a knowledge she shouldn't have. "He needs blood to replenish himself."
For the first time, Eileen seemed to fully acknowledge Adella's presence, though probably not in the way she wanted. Instead, she was examining the Blood Saint like an insect she happened to notice, rather than something inconsequential to her.
"He would not have these nightmares," The voice was practically silent, no scream of anger. It was just there, like a small breeze. It was as simple as a teacher explaining her methods to an outsider. "If he did not fail."
Even I understood that… better to die when I can and learn from it. All these failures were worth more than any blood or success.
But even still, how did the nun know of these dreams?
Perhaps she held some insight?
But how could she… everyone else saw it as what they were. Just simple dreams.
But the way Adella spoke of them…
Had she seen Gerhman and the Doll? The little Messengers, residents of the Dream?
"To even reward him with Saint's Blood," The word blood was spoken like a curse. Filled with her ire that Adella continued to be blind to. "as such is a mockery to the Hunters you help."
"He would not fail," Adellas voice barely even quirvered, a testament to either her bravery and care, or situational stupidity. "if you explained to him what he did right."
By this point, Eileen the Crow was already fully turned. Her mask in its full glory, as she stared into the eyes of the nun. My voice left me in this instance in fear of what was to come. Like silently watching a tidal wave coming to sweep away everything in front of it.
"Venatores." I went fully straight, trying to pull my arm out of Adella's hand. Her grip a strange piece of iron. Eileen's mask still looking purely at the nun, watching her every move. "Do your nightmares deserve praise?"
"Never." How could one praise such worthless deaths? They were merely stepping stones, ones designed to train and better me. They weren't to be praised or honored.
The moment I could get one strike off of her… that will be the death to praise.
"Good answer." You could practically hear the smile in her voice. Adellas quickly filled with disapproval. As if what Eileen was saying was the wrong thing and asinine. Her mouth opened just the tiniest bit.
"Enough."
That was it. Nothing else needed to be said.
It was like a blade was pressed against all our throats, any word said threatening to cleave our heads from our shoulder. What once was filled with air was now empty, refusing to fill as we imagined ourselves choking on our last words. Our hearts didn't beat, our blood didn't flow, and our bodies didn't dare so much as twitch.
She walked even closer to Adella, a piece of sweat showing up on her brow. A look that I could only translate to something akin to realization.
She was not a kind Hunter of the church…
"Only the praise worthy get to Dream…" Her voice was a strange mix of harsh and soft, the knife seeming to disappear on those words. But Adella still looked scared, staring into empty eye sockets.
She was the Hunter of Hunters, who held mercy in her hands. Who hunted what all refused to hunt, and grant them freedom.
It was silent… thankless… joyless…
Eileen turned around looking directly at me for only a single second, before making her way to the archway.
"The rest get to experience Nightmares."
It was what it meant, to be a Hunter.
Then something filled the room, almost silent and unseen.
That tiny sound was all I needed to wake up. Knife in hand and a pinpoint accuracy that I had managed with great practice and many failures. Aiming for the origin of the sound, hoping that the tiny knife could pierce whatever skull it met.
A thick thunk echoed outward, as if the skull was made of something hollow.
Was it another Darkbeast, whose very bones were void of any organs and marrow? If it was I remained practically defenseless. No sword, and no proper armaments to fight off the electricity that replaced the thick and congealed blood all things had.
I reached for my gun, one that was laid by my bedside table. The bullets more than capable of harming it ever so slightly, enough to manage to obtain my weapons...
As my partner screamed out what he had been saying for the past week. Bringing with it a sense of reality.
"A Bulls Eye!"
It was that moment that I took a sharp look around. Daylight streaming through a window, barren walls of white paint, and two bookshelves. One practically barren, and the other filled with many different stories, both historical and fantasy. And a single giant of a man, that was smiling happily down at me.
Right… Beacon.
A thick sigh escaped my lips, my hand that had just grabbed the edge of my pistol releasing the tight grip on its handle. Instead slithering its way to the bridge of my nose, a headache already beginning to form. Not at my usual form of waking up,
"Bullseye." My voice filled with the tiny annoyance of something that had saved my life being transformed into a game. "One word." A single finger lifting up for an added emphasis.
I opened my single eye, leaning slightly out of my bed. Staring out of the open door and into the opposite side of the wall.
Where a single, crudely made, board laid at the other end. A simple arrow pointed down to my knife, with words simply saying 'Aim Here'. There was also a small piece of writing on the side, that simply stated 'For Vens use only!' In bolded letters. One strewn across a door, by Nora Valkyrie of Team JNPR.
The boisterous girl woke up early one day just as my partner opened the door, forgetting my usual habit. The knife arcing across the hall before imbedding itself into the door.
It's been a game to her ever since
Despite the rather crude method of having fun with the skill that saved my life, multiple times. I was rather fine with it.
The only annoyance I truly ever felt was Mors incorrect usage of the word. Everything else was practically a betterment, and a small piece of pride. After all, it was an added range to practice with and I was still managing to hit the mark.
And it was far better than the knife ruining the door across from us.
"Excellent throw," The words broke me from my thoughts, watching the knight swiftly coming back from recovering the board off the door. My throwing knife in his hand, something that made it look even smaller. "Per usual."
I quickly grabbed the knife, making my way to the school uniform that hung on the side of a wardrobe. Evelyn made its way to my hand as I had already begun to put on my uniform.
"Of course." The barest hint of pride in my voice, Evelyn now hidden within the depths of my school coat. "But, we have to stop doing this."
"Whatever for?" The large Knight responded, the idiotic grin he usually on his face at full mast. Allowing the world to see it, and hide nothing except the smallest hint of mischief.
Thankfully, I didn't have to answer. For whatever Great One ruled over the thing we called fate, decided to answer it for me.
Strangely enough, it spoke with a door that slammed open. One that laid on the other said of the hall, where my dagger barely hit its frame.
"Who keeps doing that!?" A voice echoed throughout the hall, my eye turning right to Mors…
A person who still managed to keep the wide smile on his face. One that almost looked free of any form of guilt. Even as the door across the hall slammed back into place.
"That, mostly." My uniform fully on, one of my many knives hidden within its belt. I even tightened the bandages around my eye, ensuring that none could see past it.
All my partner could manage was a simple shrug, the smile still proudly worn on his face.
"Tis not my fault." As if such action were purely out of his control. Every single time, it was him who put up the board and hid it from the world after its use was over. "Miss Valkyrie insisted upon it."
"An insistence you hardly argued with." Beginning to make my way to the door. The smile on Mors' face seemed to grow even wider. "I wonder if you even wished for it?"
"Of course not." A happy tone in his voice, as if what I insinuated didn't affect him in the slightest. Even now, despite me seeing him battle, one could question if the man had anything other than happiness inside of him.
"Nevertheless," My partner continued, picking up an apple off the desk. He tossed it to me, while he continued his conversation. The moment it even touched my hand, I took a bite out of it. The sweetness invading every part of my mouth. "Even if I did, such a thing is hardly hurting anyone, and Sir Jaune has had nothing but compliments for my actions."
Compliment? What reason would he have to compliment Mors. It wasn't like this was affecting him in any way.
My puzzlement must have shown on my face, as his smile seemed to grow even wider. A smile that made my insides squirm with slight frustration.
Loud banging footsteps echoed in the outer hall, possibly someone running to class. That didn't stop me from retreating slightly, a hand reaching for my concealed pistol.
If anything the knight's smile began to grow even wider. Reaching across the door he sat across from, his hand on the doorknob. Turning it with simplicity...
Right as something barreled through the door.
My hand was instantly upon my pistol, pulling out as quick as I could manage. Evelyn cocked and ready to fire at the beast that had barg-
"Did he get a Bullseye!"
Of course it was her…
The very person who had put up the board.
Nora was standing in the center of our room, staring directly at me, her eyes practically filled with a cosmos of stars. Each of those stars shining with a deep interest and expectancy of the question she had asked. The uniform of hers ruffled and askew, as if it was hastily put on.
Completely unfazed by the pistol that was currently in her face.
A sigh managed to escape my lips, my pistol falling at my side. The other hand was already reaching for the bridge of my nose once more.
I've only been awake two minutes, and a headache was beginning to form.
"Indeed he did." Mors spoke, my attention returning to him. The board once more in his hands, proudly displayed like a grand trophy. The lack of etchings proof enough, as they were before, of my skill.
My pistol returned to its proper location, just staring at the antics of the two in front of me. Each of them smiling like small children…
It was hard to not see some amusement in it. Even despite the loud interruptions that remained unnecessary at the moment. Though I had a very limited understanding of why me simply throwing a knife would excite the young woman like so.
"Yes!" The girl's hand rising to its zenith, palm outstretched in front of me.
I merely stared at it, looking at the hand right in front of my face. Even now I still wondered why she wanted me to hit it. What possible form of satisfaction could it possibly bring?
My eye then traveled to the girl's eyes, once more seeing the stars within them again.
Perhaps she's just holding a strange form of madness. A sigh escaping my lips, my hand rising to the needed distance.
Right as her hand came down like a Kirkhammer, the sharp sound of skin on skin sounding out through the room. The smallest of stings now present in my hand, red replacing the pale color of that was usually across its surface.
Then, just as she appeared, she vanished out the door. Each footstep loudly presenting itself for the entire world to hear. I dare say I even heard the faintest hint of a hum.
"Sir Jaune tells me she used to be a heavy sleeper," My partner spoke out again, the pleasant grin still present on his face. "If you can believe it."
"I fear I can sometimes hear it." Even in class, the places where she was supposed to be paying attention, one could sometimes hear the deep snores. Each one sounded like a roll of thunder in the classroom.
I even hear it in the middle of the night, a distant thunderstorm from across the hall. It was a surprise that any of her teammates got any form of sleep in the first place.
Thankfully Mors seemed to find some enjoyment from my response, a loud laugh echoing into the hall. Loud and boisterous, as he usually was.
At least someone was having some form of enjoyment. My eye rolled to the ceiling as I made my way to the door once again. The hall began to fill with students who were beginning to make their way to class. The heavy steps of the Mors following close behind.
"Morning, Mors."
Alongside even more interruptions, this one also with a cheer fill voice.
I looked down the hall, seeing the second team coming towards me.
Some with far more enthusiasm than others.
Team RWBY...
It was good to note that nothing had truly changed.
Each of them walked together, almost like a pack of wolves. A strange tense pressure seeming to fill the air, yet less oppressive than any beast could give off.
Yang was practically leading it, her steps confident and full of gusto. As if the battle five days ago wasn't even a memory in her mind. An action that managed to stir a deep and utter annoyance, looking at her.
Of course, the more surprising part was her arm. Even now, the power of Aura continued to surprise me.
It was now fully healed, after five days of using the sling that I had crafted.
It was by no means the level of a Blood Saints, or even Iosefka's carefully crafted blood vials. But, it was still pleasantly surprising.
She walked completely forward, her eyes entirely on my partner.
Her own partner had followed suit. The golden orbs of a cat focused only ahead of her, staring either at nothing or through Mors. Already moving to a set distance away from me. Probably to ensure that I didn't strike her dead.
As if I would change my mind without some form of reason. At least the fear was still there within her, her eyes practically slits being so close to me. Present so that she would analyze any action that she think she might do.
The other two at least had the decency to stare at me. Each of them painted in with their own personal touches. One with perplexity and a certain frost, one that hadn't been rid of since the first day. Each state meant to analyze my every movement, just like her teammate.
At the very least, this one didn't lay out of self interest.
Ruby, however, was staring at me full blast. A hesitant hand lifting up as if to say hello.
Right before she brought it back down. An unsure look plastered onto her face. Maybe even she could feel the invisible pressure within the air, one that weighed heavy on her inexperienced shoulders.
I lowered my head the tiniest bit, returning the hesitant greeting back. The girls eyes widening slightly before turning away stiffly.
Turning right to the back of the elder sister, who did not see such interaction.
Yes… nothing changed indeed.
"Good morning, Miss Xia-... Yang!" My partner spoke, ignorant or unfeeling towards the pressure that had begun to fill the hall. Meanwhile I just remained behind, staring silently at the ensuing conversation. One whose contents were predictable, and plain to see.
"Glad you remembered!" The brawler stated, her pure lilac eyes staring straight into Mors' golden orbs. "Anyway, we were just going to get a quick bite to eat, wanna join?"
"Apologies," My partner's dominant hand reached up to the back of his head, an action that usually followed with his genuine responses. Everything about him became stiff, despite the innocent question. "I have already eaten my fill for the morning."
"Aw come on," Her arm draped over his neck, a thing that was, apparently, a sign of affection. All I could see was a snake, trying to strangle its prey.
Of course, due to the large height difference, it looked as if she was hanging off of him.
"Big guy like you," The snake continued, whispering sweet and innocent words to him. Once more, as expected. "Needs more than the cafeteria can give you! I'll even give an extra helping."
Mors' simply bent down in response, her arm slipping off his neck in the simplest of moves. The girls face scrunching up, her small displeasure fully shown at the action, before the sun like smile returned.
"I'm quite alright." Even now sounding as polite as ever. Like a noble, who could wiggle out of almost anything. "But perhaps then, we can make that arrangement at lunch?"
The cheer filled smile seemed to widen further. "I can work with that."
I turned my attention back to the other three, the silent atmosphere falling away. The kitten looked as if she was the one who had accomplished something.
Weiss kept the chill around her, acting as if none of this mattered. At the very least, nothing that I could manage to comprehend.
Ruby's emotions were like a transparent piece of glass. Each second switching her view between me, Mors and her elder sister.
She was uncomfortable.
"Very well," The boisterous voice blasted into my ears, a sigh escaping me as they did. I had grown used to his loud voice entering my ears. Like how one grows used to the constant screams within Hemwick Channel, or the crying of the Bounded Widows of Cainhurst. "Venatores and I will meet thy at Lunch!"
The thick atmosphere returned, right alongside the fall of Yang Xiao Long's smile. A similar frustration I held with his strange brand of ignorance.
I rolled my eye, turning around to leave for class. The predictable display, almost sad really. Besides, class was far more important than this.
I barely even took a step forward, before a large paw like hand consumed my shoulder. The slap nearly made me buckle to my knees, the entirety of my skeleton seeming to lurch unnaturally.
A small growl escaped from my lips, more out of pain and annoyance than any anger. I turned my head slightly, able to see nothing from the blind spot in my vision.
Despite the partial blindness, it was only a single person who could have grabbed me.
Especially since he was the only with the restraint akin to a charging Brick Troll. The grip growing only a tiny bit tighter, a silent message for me to stay where I am.
It had become an annoying fact of my new life that, only recently, Mors was growing used to my quiet presence. One that, usually, helped me escape out of most situations.
Whenever he felt me even move away from something deemed important, he would grab me. Keeping his hand there, as if I was some untrained hound kept on a leash. There was nothing I could even do to stop it, for his strength far exceeded mine. And I couldn't stab him through his hand with my knife, forcing him to let me go.
The only words I could find for it were frustration and humiliation. Some even laughed at my newly formed predicament.
Thankfully, they stopped as soon as I stared in their direction.
"S-sorry Mors." The brawler continued her expression now a shadow within the darkness. As I was practically forced to look forward. The grip on my shoulder, far too strong for me to even turn. "Only enough Lien for you. But-"
"I see." The knight quickly interrupted, the smile still likely prominent on his face. "Then, in the realm of fairness, I must decline your offer."
"You don't always have to do everything together." The cat's voice rang out, criticizing Mors for a thing that every team did within Beacon. His grip grew tighter, as a reaction to the words she spoke. A faint crack of my shoulder, as the bones moved in a manner they shouldn't. My teeth began digging into the bottom of my lip, keeping a groan of pain inside.
Maybe I should just stab him. At least it wouldn't be as painful as my bones receiving a permanent handprint on their surface.
"Tis not a matter of force," A piece of something I couldn't recognize. His grip remained the same tightness as he continued. A sense of irony clear in the air. "But of want!"
This was getting tiresome. I quickly grabbed one of his fingers, pulling it back as far as I could manage.
It was like trying to pry open a Scourge Beasts jaw, a feat that, if it weren't for this very moment, I would be impressed by. But, despite the small strain, I had managed to do it in a way that seemed to grab his attention.
The grip was quickly freed, something I celebrated with a quick turn of my shoulder. The stiffness washing away, returning to its usual conditions.
I turned, a glare already forming. One that sent most people shivering in their boots.
All my partner could manage, however, was to look sheepish. Possibly realizing what he was about to do to my shoulder. His mind, more than likely, already trying to work out a possible apology.
But I managed to speak before him. Reminding the large brute of the one thing far more important. An acceptable excuse to escape what was happening.
"Class?"
That single word managed to change his expression. A wide smile on his face, hidden from Team RWBY, before transforming into mock terror.
"Yes!" The word echoed down the hall, everyone in it jumping at the sheer scale of his voice. His whole body turned so quickly towards the team that one could fear he had obtained whiplash. "You lot must hurry to your breakfast, if thy wishes to get there on time!"
"W-wai-" The blonde brawler began her arm reaching out to grab Mors. She was too slow, as the Knight moved a single step towards me.
I retreaded a step back, turning around. My neck began to prickle with heated gazes, as I stayed an arms length away from Mors. Ensuring that my neck wouldn't be used as a collar for Mors.
Before I knew it, I was rounding a corner, Mors close behind me.
"We shall see you there!" He finished off, shouting down the hall to the group, who was most certainly delving into an argument. I turned to meet his gaze, right as he made his way around the corner.
Just in time to see him deflate like a balloon, the wide grin fading to a tired looking expression. One that made him seem almost ancient, his pace slowing to stay in time with me.
"They are certainly persistent." My words held no venom, only holding a simple annoyance. One born from the countless other attempts that they had tried to get Mors alone. Their plan was as obvious as the first time Blake tried it two weeks ago.
At least this time, they had a certain amount of charisma backing them up.
"Can one blame them?" The knight's voice was tired, as if presenting that false amount of cheer had worn him out for the day. Just from the sound of his voice, it wouldn't even surprise me if he managed to fall asleep in class. "Especially after what happened in that forest."
What happened… he made it sound like it was an accident. Maybe it was for any stray listener, or some other reason I wasn't truly aware of.
No… that was a lesson. Some failed, and some passed, it was as simple as that.
Two passed, each of them fighting as far as they could go, and even further. They were rewarded for it, the sparing of another from that blade and praise and understanding. Were they at the level of Hunters? Far from it, but perhaps they held the smallest spark of potential.
Two had to face the repercussions of their failure. One at the edge of a blade and psyche, and the other on the broken arm she was given. One a beast of the night, that was proven a person on the edge. The other one, an arrogant girl, who forgets her minisculinity in the world, let alone the Cosmos filled with Kin.
They should be glad it was only that. They should be glad I held that tiny form of mercy for them.
They should be glad they could not Dream.
"She's alive." My voice was calm despite the conflicting thoughts. "That should be good enough for them."
And it should…
Never, had something so close to beastdom, ever escaped with their lives.
"They are scared, angry and confused…" The Knight spoke, his words holding that single modicum of truth. "What is stopping you from doing what you did to them again?"
"I told them." Don't stray from the path, unless you are willing to face it's consequences.
They can even keep their ideals if they wish. No matter how silly or unreachable they may be.
"Yes," He continued, his voice growing the tiniest bit deeper. Even while he admitted about the story I told. "You did."
He turned to me, his eyes almost like gold staring into his depths. The usual naïveté disappearing in an instant.
What came was someone who looked closer to an ancient sage. One who had lived a long and arduous life.
It was these moments that kept me questioning…
Questioning who exactly, Mors Ignis was.
"It is merely a matter that half of them don't believe you."
Once more, there were truths in his words. It is not a matter of wants or knowledge, it's belief in it that soothes people.
It was always strange to remember that single thing. How much people stake their everything on belief, instead of truth.
Then again, they did not have the curse to understand such truth.
But their belief was not my concern. They could avoid me, if they wished, they could even scandalize me if they wish.
I would just rather if they didn't do it within earshot.
But, on the topic of belief, a thought crept into my mind. One that managed to cling to my mind even with a few more paces across the hall.
"What about you?" I voiced my thoughts, the words so sudden even I questioned their existence.
"I am listening to you, aren't I?" His voice still filled with that tiredness, alongside something that made it seem like he was merely stating fact. "It is them you want to listen."
"I meant," Staring directly into his eyes, each one like tiny suns. "do you believe in my creed?"
He seemed to stop at that, his gait remaining unchanged. A hand on his chin, as if this was the first time he ever thought about it. A small tension began to bloom as the seconds of thought passed.
"I would be lying if I said it was not strange." He spoke, turning his head back around. I simply nodded, leaving it to his ignorance of the Hunt. "But it would also be a lie to say it's unnecessary."
I merely nodded, content with that answer. A small tiny emotion in my chest at the awnser, even if it wasn't exactly an acceptance. Perhaps it was some form of relief at his answer?
No… probably just a relief he wasn't entirely an idiot.
Mors quickly let a sigh afterwards, one so long and deep that it was a mystery he hadn't passed out from lack of air.
"It appears that I will go lunchless again, however." The knight speaking it in a way that was both, somehow, filled with terror and some form of amusement. His eyes still staring at me, bright as ever.
A small sigh left my lips, the not so obvious jab at what his helpfulness did to him. Of course, he still wanted me to answer the question, with amusement in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Well, they'll most likely ambush me in the depths of the lunch room." The terror in his voice was still prominent, as if the place he was talking about was the Nightmare Frontier itself. "A place crawling with many forms of people, and an unspoken requirement to sit there and finish all on your plate. Before I may even comprehend, I will be surrounded."
"If I enter that room." A hand suddenly reached towards his heart, grasping it as if it itself was seizing with terror. "I might not be able to return from such depths."
A smile somehow managed it's way on my face. A small minuscule one, born from the ridiculousness of his thought process.
But, even still, a small pity managed its way into that amusement. After all, he was going lunchless after all. No matter how much he was trying to joke about it, it still weighed something…
I let out a sigh, the smile still partially on my face.
"They've been avoiding me since the test…" I managed to say, my tone still the same despite the smile. Mors seemed to grow brighter, despite not knowing the full answer. "If I sit with you at lunch, they might just avoid you too."
The response was immediate.
"A light of hope has appeared!"
I rolled my single eye, my stride becoming the tiniest bit faster. Even the smile managed to grow a tiny bit wider.
He was certainly ridiculous. Stranger than most, but not without some merit.
Then my smile was quickly washed away, all with a single voice.
"Watch it!"
It was one filled with annoyance, one that was practically on my right ear. As I was practically blind, I turned to meet the voice.
To see deep red eyes, and mint like hair. A skin deeply tanned, possibly by a life in the desert sands. She was wearing a different uniform than the Beacon students, simple and effective.
But I've never seen her here before.
An elder classmate? No, she looked to be the same age.
So all that left was one of the many guests to Beacon that clattered these halls. Each of them from the many schools from across this strange plane.
She looked at me too, her eyes widening ever so slightly. Probably noticing the wrapping around the right side of my head.
I rolled my eyes once again, turning back around so that I could continue my trek towards our classroom.
A great way to start the morning, a headache and the pity of a stranger.
"Apologies." Mors voice sounded off behind me, the large footsteps quickly following behind me.
"N-no, I'm sorry." The stranger spoke quickly, her footsteps following behind the both of us. "Sorry."
Yes what a grand apology. It is truly a humbling one, that gave shivers to all passersby.
"It's not a problem." My pace quickening ever so slightly, class more important than the two faced pity this stranger gave.
"W-wait!" She quickly grabbed my hand, a slight force to it keeping me in place.
One that felt particularly familiar.
"What's your name?" The tone was practically innocent, as if she truly didn't mean that blunder.
I turned my head ever so slightly, her hand still on my arm.
Her smile was wide, purposefully wide. One that hid many things beneath it's surface. A smile filled with an ulterior motive. One that could almost be considered beautiful.
"I'd feel bad if I didn't make it u-" She wasn't able to finish.
I wrenched it away, a growl practically at the edge of my throat. A look of surprise displayed across her face.
"We have class."
I turned around, my pace practically a sprint, large heavy steps also filling the hall. A question most definitely on his lips.
I merely turned, a glare telling him to drop it.
I returned to my pace, unable to even see his reactions. A myriad of feelings welling up in my chest, emotions of panic, hatred and everything else in between.
It was a feeling that brought me back to the Hunt instead of Beacon. One that mixed pleasant and terrible memories. Memories that used my dreams as some sort of prophecy for this meeting.
Despite myself, I couldn't help but see that same silhouette. One that seemed to shadow over the green haired girl, like a thick dense fog. One that wouldn't have existed if it wasn't for this morning.
For the barest of seconds…
Adella the Nun, had returned from her grave.