An Affront to Your Light Part 1

"Nickel~!"

Nickel turned to the sound of his name, wiping a bead of sweat dripping from his brow. He slung his axe into the stump he worked with for the past hour. Leon marched out towards Nickel with a joyful expression.

"Merchants?" Nickel finally asked.

Leon shook his head. "Hunting. Figured you would like to go out this time."

Nickel looked around at the split logs that had started to pill up. Winter was fast approaching. In a few weeks they'd get their first taste of snow. Or so the old woman that lived down near the butcher shop claimed. She claimed her old bones knew when a storm was coming. And if the storm was coming, firewood was needed. Wood that he was now working diligently to split for them.

"What are we tracking?" He lazily pulled the axe from the stump and slung it on his shoulder in one fluid motion.

"Deer."

Nickel licked his lips. It was tempting. His favorite meat. Leon knew his weakness well. He gazed down at the iron that hung from Leon's hip in thought before he put the axe against the stump and sat down to ponder the idea of hunting midday. The animals would be more cautious. Their guard would be up and they'd be me alert to their presence.

"Alright."

Leon moved back inside. Nickel remained by the stump for a few extra seconds, catching his breath and cooling off in the cool breeze that blew through.

Thirteen years had passed since the fall of his home. It was nothing but a memory of pain that he had long since forgotten about. Too young to understand and too young to know better, Leon had taken him in and raised him as his own. Leon had given up the life of a Huntsman to raise him. That had given him an opportunity to be more than a simple Huntsman. They'd found land to live on. And on that land life had flourished. Their small home had become a beacon of light for those caught in darkness. Many flocked to their land. A place safe from the Creatures of Grimm that ravaged their world.

It had started small with a woman settling down on the other side of the creek that split the forest. They lived upon a small hill, overlooking it and the land below. When she came and made her home, she had been doing so to escape some sort of life of pain. Leon assisted in her life, giving her hope when she had none left to believe in. He offered her warmth, and she offered him teachings of the land in return.

She was a simple woman, and one of many to come when word spread of a Huntsman who lived in the forest. When more showed, homes were built again. Families flocked to them, seeking refuge and wanting peace and quiet from the bustling city that made up Mistral. Many had come from villages raided by Grimm and Bandits alike. They were bleak people, giving in to the idea that life wasn't worth living. Though they stayed, they kept to themselves. But like all things around Leon, the light he radiated sparked a flame inside them, and in return for his kindness and protection, they offered teachings.

A population of only a hundred, they lived off the land. It was something that Leon and Nickel had struggled to do. Nickel, who was too young to know how to hunt or to forage, was only good at detecting trouble and tracking the scent of wild game. Leon, the noble man who gave up his life as a Huntsman, could only fight and track. But when the people came to them, settled down, listened to his tales of adventure to inspire kids and give hope to the lost, they answered in kind with teachings.

The woman who joined first knew how to fish and craft nets. She knew which berries were good and which were bad. Her herbal knowledge was limited, but useful. A pair of farmers had arrived a month after her, seeking a place to call their own and test their chances at life. They knew how to grow food and where and when to do it. When clothing became hard, the old woman who followed her family of five, taught them to how to knit and made clothing for them. A bustling community was created by their actions. Walls were built. Homes become small shops where people worked as traders.

It was a hard life. But it was a life worth living. Hope was a currency they felt that had in abundance. It was their fortune and it was their life.

Nickel stepped inside the house and moved with purpose to his room. He shrugged off his working clothes and pulled on his tracking clothes. It consisted of dark pants, shin guards over boots, long-sleeved mesh undershirt, vest, and vambraces with three knives strapped down tightly. A thick belt with six pouches dangled over his hips and helped secure two wakizashis on the small of his back.

He stepped out of his room and stretched as he fidgeted with the vest. It was getting a little tight. Guess I need speak with Margret again.

Leon was waiting for him on the porch, his hand resting on the iron on his hip. His thumb caressed the worn hammer as his gaze swept over the small town below them.

Nickel looked down at the small town – his home – and smiled. The sun hung directly above them, lighting up the town that had once been nothing but trees, now turned into a small village. To the north, a large wooden gate stood open, welcoming to travelers seeking a nights' sleep or to sell to their wares. To the west, the creek split the land and the wooden walls meant to keep out the darkness stood tall, not even allowing the running water to come in to the town, and server as a final protective guard for the crops that were grown on the land within the walls. To the east, there were homes, small in size, but homes for the people. And finally, to the south, his home, their hill, and the final wall that was meant to shield the village from harm, a steep mountain. A path divided the town, a road that reached up to the gate and stretched out through the trees.

It wasn't much, but it was enough for them.

"Ready?"

Leon nodded mutely.

Nickel took a big sniff of the air, his red eyes closed to help him smell out the animals in the area. It took him a single minute to find the first scent of their quarry. He glanced down at the village, his mind left questioning how much they needed to bring back and if he would have the remaining daylight to finish his job.

But those thoughts passed. Memories of the savory meat he so loved filled his mind. His task could wait. The deer needed finding.

They moved through the mountain that had always had their backs in search of the deer. Each step always seemed like his first in the forest. The fresh scents were strong and delightful to him.

Leon put a hand on Nickel's shoulder, his yellow eyes darkening as he knelt down, touched the soft soil with his fingers and looked ahead. Nickel crouched down as well, looking at the print that was pressed in the soil. It wasn't deer.

Bear prints.

Nickel's first thought was the Grimm. Its print was big enough to be an Ursa. If one was this close, it was worth looking for to put down. One was enough to cause problems. Panic. Panic that would bring more Grimm.

There was, however, the chance that it was not a Grimm. It might simply be a simple bear. They lived in an area with berries and water. Food for such a beast. They needed to know. They had to hunt it to make sure that whatever made the print wasn't something dangerous for the town.

Nickel took point, sniffing out the beast that made the print. He couldn't make out the scent. Ursa could smell just like normal bears to him. No one had caught a real one long enough for it to matter. They died when captured.

Leon followed, his hand still resting on his gun. He once more caressed the worn hammer as a nervous twitch, his mind working how Grimm might be this close. Nickel knew what his adopted father was thinking. Bandits might be in the area. Close enough to lure one Grimm with their tainted thoughts.

The guards would have to have work a little later tonight for the village's protection.

They passed a few downed trees. Claw marks stood as some form of ownership to the destruction, marking its territory for all to see. A warning to those that were passing through and welcoming arms to those like itself.

Still, the two pressed on to find the beast. They pushed through thick brush and downed trees in search of the creature. Their search was easy. Its tracks grew more noticeable to the duo. Leon took point, his hand gripping tightly to the revolver. He drew it in one fluid motion, his other hand on the hammer as a mass of teeth and claws suddenly sounded in the distance.

Nickel withdrew his two blades, his eyes narrowing on the mouth of a cave. Chittering cries sounded from within the dark abyss. He could smell blood inside the cave. It was fresh.

The former Huntsman moved forward, peering into the darkness with squinted eyes. Nickel tapped his shoulder with his knuckle, the other hand wiggling his weapon and motioning towards the mossy rock wall at his side.

Leon stared into the darkness, his mind working how to approach this problem. Finally, as if resigning himself to a dark fate, he agreed and stepped back. Nickel tapped his blade against the rock. It rang out like a gong in the silence that hung over them, yet was quieter than a mouse chattering with another.

It was enough to get its attention.

Nickel jumped up above the mouth of the cave while Leon stepped further back, his hand holding tight to his gun. He fired a warning shot to draw it out further. It worked. The beast, a black monster twice the size of a normal bear, stood between them. The bone spikes on its back were coated in blood.

It reeled back to its full height, towering over both of them, and let loose an angry scream to their presence. A call for help, perhaps.

Leon fanned the hammer, releasing four shots in its chest. Center mass. The beast paused, as if thinking on the actions that had just transpired. He fanned the hammer two more times. It staggered and fell to all fours. Not dead. It charged him. Leon dove out of the way, letting the massive beast slam through a tree, toppling it with a loud crash. Leon emptied his gun into its side. It howled in agony, but remain alive.

Nickel jumped for the beast from his spot above, landing on its hip. His twin blades tasted flesh and sank deep into the joints. The beast howled, surprised by his arrival, spinning around in an attempt throw him off. It worked. Nickel fell over the tree. But the beast had made an error in its judgment and paid the price.

Leon had reloaded his gun, slid new steel into the cylinder, and fired all ten shots in rapid succession. Its head splintered and blew apart with each round fired. By the time the fourth shot had reached it, the head had been nothing but a stump. Still, Leon had finished the movements and unloaded all ten for safety.

The empty rounds hit the soft soil and were replaced in a single, quick, fluid motion that was like lighting. So fast that it had been something almost unseen by Nickel, even to his time with the man.

Leon looked around, his eyes scanning every shadow for movement. Nickel sniffed the air. Even with all the discharging from the gun, he could still smell the original target, but his concern was on the Grimm. He couldn't detect anymore.

Holstering his pistol, he jerked his head in the direction of the way they came. Nickel nodded in silence and took point. They still had enough light to make for the deer. If they were lucky, they could find their target and get it back to the butcher before sundown.

The Faunus could smell the deer. It was close. He knelt down as Leon moved behind him, his hand resting on Nickel's shoulder. The teen crept along the soft soil and moved brush out of his face quietly as he made his way to a small clearing of trees. He could see it. It was grazing and not in a good spot for him to work. Two does flanked it with two small fawns not much further away.

Leon jerked his chin in the direction of the stag. Nickel nodded quietly and reached into his pouch for a small pebble as he withdrew three throwing knives from his vambrace. He rolled the pebble between his thumb and index finger for a moment before flicking in the direction ahead of the stag. It raised its head to the noise. Nickel jumped up, releasing one of the three knives quickly.

The deer hit the ground; a knife lodged in its eye. It gave one scream of pain before Nickel and Leon were on it. The others had run off, eager to escape their hunters. Nickel withdrew the knife from its eyes and wiped it clean on his pant leg before putting it away. The thing twitched, but didn't move to run. Nickel pulled his wakizashi from its scabbard and found purchase in its chest. The thing bucked once before death took it fully. They gave it a moment silence before removing the blade and picking the deer up.

They opted to remain quiet the way back for safety. What wildlife was in the area didn't need to be scared off. The trip back was quick. They had just stepped into the center of the village with the sun at their backs. A few more hours of sunlight remained. More than enough time for the butcher to get her job done.

"Got another deer?"

Leon hefted the create in question as he repositioned it on his shoulders. The speaker, a lanky man with silver and red hair stepped up to the duo. He was younger than Nickel. The two weren't friends.

"Cobalt," Nickel greeted with disdain in his voice. His displeasure with the young man had been public knowledge. Despite Leon being more or less the chieftain, people saw Nickel for what he was: A Faunus. A second-rate citizen at best in the eyes of humans.

Nickel had always tried to ignore the hateful eyes that followed him when he stepped through town. Just because he was Leon's adopted son didn't spare him the hateful looks, even from the people he had helped save. The older generation had always been the worst. Some had warmed up to him, like Margret, but most saw him as a monster.

It hurt lot.

When they would visit the city, he would see posters of Faunus that were giving rally cries to their kind. They were a group, though he never knew the name, he dreamed of running to them to aid in their cause. He wanted to go where they went. Cry for equality. That was what they were about. Maybe one day he'd work up the courage to go on his own, see them, and aid them. But not this day. Not right now.

Cobalt gave Nickel a quick glance of disgust before turning his gaze upon the dead deer. "You get it, sir?"

"No." Leon smiled. "My son got it."

Cobalt snorted in disbelief. Nickel shrugged off his disbelief with a grunt as he pushed open the wooden door to the butchers' shop. Cobalt left them alone from that point.

"Pepper! You busy?" Nickel called out.

There was a loud clang of metal hitting metal before a yelp of pain followed. A man ran out holding his hand as blood dripped from a clean slice across his palm. He rushed out of the building as a woman marched out, sighing as she marched up to the counter. Her hands were soaked in blood, but she made sure to not touch anything. She regarded the deer on Leon's shoulders with mild amusement. No doubt finding humor in the state he was sure to be in given that they hadn't drained the blood, pure their usual routine when hunting.

"Bet your back is covered in stink."

"New guy slice himself good?"

Pepper sighed again, this time touching the side of her head, leaving a mass of blood in her graying hair. "Stupid sumbitch wasn't looking to what he was doing. Sliced himself good. He'll come around."

"Doubt it." Nickel replied. His father hefted the deer again, repositioning the thing as a way of informing of the weight he carried. Pepper rolled her eyes and ushered them to follow. The back part of her shop/home was all gore. Dead animals hung lifelessly, their blood pooling into large buckets.

Leon moved the dead stag to a hook. Its head dangled over a bucket. Pepper inspected the thing, eyeing the wound that had killed it. "Lot a meat on this one. Might last two days for you two."

"You calling us fat?" Leon asked in a joking manner. He patted his stomach, which had never grown or shrunk in the time that Nickel had known him.

"I'm not calling you fat, Leon. I'm calling Nickel fat."

"I'm growing!"

"Yeah. Outwards." Nickel huffed angrily to her teasing. She smiled and reached up to ruffle his hair. He pulled back before she could, his eyes locked on her blood-soaked hand. As if she had forgotten, she looked at her hands and arched a thin brow. "One might think you don't like blood."

"Not in my hair." He caressed his after mentioned locks with worry. His hair was already dark, but blood might make it look darker. He didn't like having that smell on him anymore than he already did. "How long?"

Pepper pulled a thick knife from behind her back and slit the throat of the deer. Blood pooled into a bucket. It was slow to drain. "Not long. Few hours. If I had more help today, it wouldn't be much of a problem. Or I can just hope no one else shows up with a kill for me to clean."

"One day I'll learn how to do it." Leon promised.

She pointed the knife at his chest, poking him once to get the message across. "No, you won't. You've been saying that for years, buddy." She started her work after making a shooing motion with the object. They left without a second thought.

No point in angering the woman who cleaned their kills for them.

The sun was getting low and Leon looked down at a small pocket watch he always carried. "What time is it?" Nickel asked, smirking at his adopted father.

Leon snapped it shut, putting the object back in his pocket. "Time for you to get a watch." He chuckled at his own joke. Nickel rolled his eyes and started walking for home. "I'll be home before midnight. I'm just going to talk to the guards."

Nickel gave a wave of confirmation as he continued his long march, but stopped to watch a group of children playing in the streets with a ball. They kicked it back and forth, trying to score points by putting it in a net at opposite ends of the traveled road. Margert's house rested on the west side of the street, where one net was placed, and the other net was placed between the butcher shop and smith shop.

Like quick flickers of lightning, he briefly saw memories of his former life in his old home. He played with a ball and a few other kids. They all cheered happily when a goal was made. He never made a goal, but he tried.

His vest began to itch again and he sighed in frustration as he finally unzipped it and moved to the house where Margert lived. The door was always opened, and only when you got close to it did you hear her soft humming as she sang a tune most didn't know. He rapped his knuckles on the door, alerting her that he was near.

"Come in!"

Nickel slowly moved inside, removing the vest as he walked into the living room. She had a fire going. Hot embers remained. He smiled as he sat the small vest on a stand and moved to the fire. "I'll have the logs down tomorrow for you, Margret."

The old woman laughed happily. One wouldn't think she needed it with the blankets she made and wore like ponchos. "I have extra outside, Nickel." He smiled. He knew that. He had brought them and stacked them for her. "What can I do for you?"

He grabbed his vest in one hand and raised it up just enough for her to take notice of it. "I think I'm still growing too fast. It's already a little tight on me."

Margert stopped knitting, a look of worry washing over her face. "That can't be. I just did that two months ago." With the dull end of her tapestry needle, she poked his stomach. "You need to lay off the meat. Eat less of it and more vegetables."

Nickel scratched at the back of his head. He laughed a little at her proclamation. "We are eating vegetables. Just the other day we had a fine stew made of beef, potatoes, corn, and onions."

Margert snorted. "That's not a stew. A stew is potatoes, corn, onions, carrots, and celery. No. Meat." He raised his hands in a show of submission. He knew not to anger the old woman. Least of all the woman who made his clothes. She resumed her knitting. "You smell like the forest. Find anything good?"

"Yes. We went hunting. Brought it back to Pepper to clean."

Margert nodded as she stopped working on the sweater. Setting her tools down, she looked at the fire and then to the window. The mountains that sat behind the hill, Leon and Nickels' home, was already growing dark with clouds. "Not much longer. The storm will be here soon."

"I know. I'd like to get my vest fixed before winter hits."

"It'll be done. Don't you worry about it. I'll have it back to you before long."

Nickel smiled and said his goodbyes, but not before throwing two more logs on the fire for her. When he walked outside, the children had stopped playing their game. Their parents must have come calling for them to return. It was getting late, but the sun still hung in the distance, defying the darkness for as long as it could.

The Faunus marched back to his home and then into his room. He shrugged off his hunting clothing and returned to wearing his working cloths. He returned to his work before the hunt.

It was hours later, well in to the night, when his father returned. He looked tired as he marched to the table where leftovers were set out. Leon grabbed his glass of water and downed it in a few gulps. Nickel snickered as he watched his father put the glass cup gently back on the table.

"There were more prints in the area. Stitch found tracks. They were leading away from us." Nickel looked down at his food to hide his worry. Leon leaned forward, his massive iron now resting on the table. It looked pristine again. "Traders came in today. They're staying in town."

"With who?"

"Pepper and Doctor William." Nickel blinked in surprise. "They should be out of here tomorrow. I might go with them just on the off-chance Grimm do show up. Can't see people off and let them get eaten. Not neighborly."

They finished eating in silence and headed off to bed.

Nickel awoke a few hours later when the smell of smoke reached his nose. At first, he had thought his father had started the fire. But his nose soon picked up something else in the smoke. Charred flesh not that of animal wafted through the air.

And blood.

He threw the sheets off his form and turned to the window. He saw a dark cloud hanging over the village. Dancing lights flickered from spot to spot life fireflies in the night. But they weren't dancing. They were piercing the dark cloud that hung over the village.

Nickel grabbed his hunting equipment, screaming to his father. The man awoke with a start. His feet hit the ground hard enough to crack the boards. Almost as one they rushed out the door, armed and ready to defend their home. They had only gone a few paces down the hill when they broke through the dark cloud. They saw it then. Heard it more than saw it, really. Screams. Unholy screams.

The village was on fire. Beset by dark figures that moved with purpose from home to home. What few people that ran for safety, the dark shadows chased, like cats playing with their prey.

Leon gave no pause. He rushed down the hill, his gun already in hand. Nickel followed after him, his twin blades at the ready. The first shadow they came across was one to put fear in his belly.

A lanky Grimm, standing upright with the broken body of Margret in its jaws. It dropped her unceremoniously to the burning ground for which it stood upon. Leon gave it four shots to the chest. It howled in pain and died in the fire.

"With me!" Leon ordered. He reloaded his gun to make sure that whatever came next he was ready for.

Nickel crouched down low just off to the side. He was almost invisible in the night. Together they moved from home to home, clearing out the Creatures of Grimm that had come to their town. The guards were doing the same. It seemed that they had been made aware of the situation long before they had. Nickel didn't doubt that they had tried to get to them as soon as it started.

Grimm poured in through the gate. The massive wooden structure that had been used to keep them at bay was in splinters. The dirt path was littered with tiny burning embers where the splintered wood lay. The Grimm paid the fire no mind and marched brazenly through it, risking death at the hands of mother nature.

Leon emptied his gun, jettisoned the empty shells to the ground, slid in new iron to the cylinder, and kept firing. It was all one fluid motion. He fired ten shots. Reloaded. Fired again. The actions were repeated.

Nickel was beside him, throwing his knives through fire with pinpoint accuracy. Each knife thrown laid another Grimm to rest. But he was not made of bullets like his father. He produced them from pouches like magic. Each time he emptied his gun, a new set of shells were produced from his pouches. He'd never seen him empty so many shells in his life.

More monsters surged through the fire, eager to rip and claw anyone they could get apart. Nickel threw his last knife. Leon emptied another ten rounds and reloaded just as quickly. He looked to Nickel, saw him arming himself with his wakizashis to defend himself.

Leon growled in frustration. "Nickel! With me!"

Nickel nodded, following without question. Guards with long-range weaponry stepped up to take his place, blocking the hole created by the Grimm with bullets and arrows.

They made a mad dash for the smith shop. Leon kicked in the door, sending it spiraling into the darkness. He yanked out a small red shard from his breast pocket to light the way as he rummaged through the back of the counter for something. Nickel defended the door, his back to his father to defend against any attackers.

"Here!" Nickel turned to the command. His father tossed him a massive revolver, near identical to his own, and grabbed a box of shells. "I taught you how to use mine. Now use that!"

Nickel looked down at the odd thing in his hands. The massive revolver looking near identical to his fathers', yet it bore its own unique look. The thing was a silver, with dark splashes of red paint like dried blood near the barrel of the gun. It weighed less than it appeared, almost weightless in his hands. He popped the cylinder, slid in eleven rounds one by one, de didn't have speed loaders like his father, and snapped it shut.

The two rushed back out into the fray. Leon was further off to the side than normal, likely giving him room to fire his new weapon. Nickel was patient, not firing randomly like others into the sea of monsters that rushed through the open gate. He took aim, careful to make his shots count. Three rounds were fired in almost quick succession from him, and three Grimm dropped dead in the fires.

A cry of terror drew Leon's attention to the rear. He spun, his trusty revolver in hand and ready to fire. Two shadows moved across the land and jumped the wall. He took aim, but didn't have a shot, and swore, knowing what had brought about this attack. Leon turned back to the onslaught that rushed them, and fired until the gun clicked empty.

It was nearly an hour later when the fighting stopped. What few Grimm remained in the area had wised up and left, not eager to face death like their breatharian. Out of a hundred people, only thirty walked away from the encounter.

No one dared to speak for a long time, worried that their voices might attract the Grimm again. But when they did speak, it was Leon who finally gave the news.

"We were tricked. Bandits had snuck in with the traders that came in. Pepper and Doctor William are dead, obviously. But if they were running anywhere, they had to be heading up through the valley towards Kuroyuri."

The head guard, Stitch, tapped his chin thought. "There isn't much up there," he told them. "That place was attacked some few years ago. Nothing up there but ruins."

"Which makes it a perfect hideout."

"There is a cave up to the north of the village." Nickel cut in as he finished loading another speed loader. He was busying himself to keep calm.

Leon nodded. He remembered it too, though fuzzy as the memory was, he did remember it. It would be a perfect place to hide out after such a raid. It sported a few defenses as well, but nothing a run of the mill Grimm couldn't overcome without concern.

"If they're hiding up there, then chances are high they'll be on alert. They'll be waiting for us." Leon closed his eyes. He was putting the information all together in his mind. With so few survivors and little left in the way of defense, leaving was the only option. But… "We'll take a small team to hit them. The rest of you are to pack up. Get what you can carry. We'll leave as soon as we're back. It should give everyone time to get their affairs in order."

The people didn't like the idea of leaving. That was a given. No one wanted to start over. But they had little choice. Rebuilding would take months. They didn't have that. The first winter would be upon them soon. With so little manpower and another potential raid by Grimm or Bandits on the horizon, they had no other option but to run.

Nickel placed his last speed loader into a pouch on his belt, his red eyes burned like fire. He wanted revenge, just as much as the others, but his mind was left to wonder if running after bandits was a better idea than staying to defend.

"We leave at dawn."