An Affront to Your Light Part 2

No one dared to speak since they left at first light. With anger in their hearts, it was no wonder that a few Grimm were seen following in their wake. But still, they set out to do what needed to be done: Justice. It was such a pretty word that translated to murder.

Nickel barely remembered the time he left his first home. Back then he was too young to understand the ramifications of the evil acts done. But now he understood.

Grimm were weapons. Weapons to be used. Pointed at someone or something. Have enough hate in your gut and you could lead an army to anyone's doorstep. A cruel twist of fate, created by those with powers from above. To make a monster that fed off negative thoughts was just… cruel.

A group of bandits had used Grimm as a weapon to raid their village. Grimm would destroy anything man built, yes, but at the same time, they would leave much undamaged. Hidden away goods that could be used or fixed. They went for objects of protection or transportation. Not the food. Grimm had no use for such a thing. There one true purpose in life was to destroy.

And for the second time in his life, Nickel felt powerless to stop the onslaught that had happened. He was a boy the first time, and a man this time. Yet, the outcome was still the same. Why?

The young Faunus pushed the thoughts from his mind. He focused more on the journey. The hunt for the people responsible for the attack. Luck had been somewhat on their side. He caught the familiar scent of fresh sweets in the wind. The people who had raided them had come food, or so it seemed. Inventory accounting was out of the question. No telling what else they may have grabbed when they fled the scene.

It was dusk when they decided to make camp. They had managed to get close enough to the base of the mountain that overlooked Kuroyuri. Nickel could still smell smoke wafting the small village.

He traveled to it a few times in his younger years with Leon. They ensured that supplies were brought safely. There was always a scent of lilies that floated through the village. It was a rare thing for him to smell. He liked it, almost as much as he loved deer meat. Leon had told him a few survivors had managed to escape the raid on the village, but he couldn't put faces to names. Nickel hadn't seen it in years. He doubted anyone who knew survived. Or if either would remember the other.

They took shifts watching over the camp. Leon had just woken up when Nickel finished examining one of his many knives. He rose without a sound and managed to put his belt and holster on all the same.

Nickel followed him to where Stitch was posted. The man looked tired and beaten. He didn't even offer a smile of gratitude as he turned to the small camp for his six hours of rest. Of all the people to follow them on their hunt for justice, only Stitch and his son, Abel, had followed.

The young Faunus parted from his father and sat downwind of the mountain. His nose would help them all. If someone came from the mountain, he'd detect it. Nothing had ever gotten past it. Made parties harder for his second father.

Leon sat further away, still downwind, but close enough to be within eyesight.

Nickel didn't doubt that this was eating at him. He'd spent years protecting these people. Now, all thanks to some Bandits, his work was ruined. The light that he represented to the people was now diminished. Leon wasn't broken by any means. He was just sore. It hurt to gain so much and lose more than what you gained.

Still, Leon was a beacon of light that shone in the darkness. No matter how much the wind blew or the shadows crept upon his light, it remained true, shining for all to see. The two of them were proof that you could survive through terrible times, but you needed to believe you could survive.

A faint scent of blood hit the air.

Nickel rose to his feet, his eyes peering deep into the darkness for the source. The metallic scent was weak, even to him. It had to be far. His red eyes wandered the mouth of a cave that sat on the side of the mountain. There was no light from it. Not one he could see. But the smell, it seemed to arise from there.

The Faunus chewed lower lip in thought. He could inform his father, but Stitch and Abel had just gone to sleep. They couldn't leave them. And if one of them left, they would be at a disadvantage to attackers. He could only wait for sunrise before he made a move.

A rustling of leaves sounded behind him. He kept perfectly calm as he removed a knife from its holster and a wakizashi. Slowly, carefully, he turned to the sound. It was closer this time. He sniffed the air, hoping to luck out and detect whatever it was that approaching him. No luck. The bush a few paces back and to his right moved. He rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing on the thing.

A rabbit jumped out of the bush, its little nose wiggling as it looked for something.

Nickel regarded the thing carefully before standing to his full height and looking around. His eyes were better than humans. A natural gift from being a Faunus. He could see in the dark. But all he saw was emptiness and trees that swayed in the wind.

He sheathed his knife, but kept his blade out in the off chance whatever had stirred the rabbit was hostile. The little rabbit sniffed at something on the ground before bolting off.

Nickel tilted his head to the side, sniffing the air once more. The scent of blood remained, though it was stronger this time.

He released the worry from his mind and faced the direction of the wind again as his gaze turned to the fractured moon above. For a brief moment, he felt a deep longing for love wash through him. Many nights he spent watching the moon.

There was no hiding the fact that he was in complete opposition to his father. Leon favored the rising sun, a warm light that embraced all. Nickel, favored the moon and the eternal darkness it brought. The cold night it would bring, sweeping through homes and towns to take the ill away and bring them to a better place was a welcome to him. Many times, he would sit out on the front porch and gaze longing to it. His father had questioned it a few times, but their talks always ended the same.

"Why do you favor the moon and darkness?"

"I favor the darkness because I hear a story when I sleep. It speaks of a dark love and a wolf that vents its loneliness to that Darkness. The eternal one awakens, Darkness shrouds its pale form, a timeless desire. It's midnight hair cascades to its shoulders. Full dark red lips part slightly to taste the soul streaming from the pale flesh beneath it. Now a night of a new life, I rise."

It was a quote, though his memory of it was skewered thanks to time and age, and he did not know the origin of it. Sometimes, when a new moon arose, and he slept soundly under its careful watch; he could see flashes of a man, similar to himself, holding him and speaking of a wolf that only found love at night. Perhaps this man was his first father, the one he barely remembered. Leon had once told him that the mind was a tricky and powerful thing. It would create images to fill the void and piece broken things together with new pieces from another image to make it whole. Perhaps what he saw wasn't his father, but the image of a man who he believed was his first father.

From that moment on, Leon had taken to the idea that Nickel was more than his adopted son: He was a force of nature. A shadow, and a shadow could not be killed. Not as it was. It could be forced back by light, but that light needed to bend to the darkness as well. An equilibrium, balance, brought to the world through its actions. After all, life could not exist without death. Light, was nothing without darkness. The Noble Man still loved his adopted son dearly. This did nothing to sway him from his path.

His representation of the light was one that had always peeked Nickel's curiosity, as he referred to it simply as "His Light". It was nothing but an idea crafted to give hope, but one that inspired Nickel as a boy. His light, his Semblance, gave hope to those that had none, for he was hope given form. And within that truth there was a great promise. If one man could stand against the night, then so too could anyone – everyone.

Leon's rise to fame was a hard-won battle against overwhelming odds. When he spoke of his team, it was in remembrance. They had died early into their carriers as Huntsmen, like so many before them. The last of his team and unwilling to partner with others for long, he favored the road and doing good because it was the right thing.

Justice was a pretty word served through dark means. If one peeled back its layers, he would only find necrosis at its core. Justice was nothing but a fascade; a clever construct used to legalize murder. But it was in contradiction to his second father that he must act because to do nothing was no different than an evil act itself.

So, Leon kept to the road. Doing good because it was good.

Nickel shut his eyes for a brief moment, taking in the sweet scent of the cool air that blew in. He could smell the blood still, but there was more than just that. There was sugars and pines and animals in the mix.

When he opened his eyes, his gaze fell from the moon to the cave. It was lit now. A light danced from within the darkness of its mouth. He rose to his feet, as if it would give him a better view, and saw nothing else.

The sun would not rise for another hour.

Gravel under boot sounded from behind him. He spun, his wakizashi already up to defend himself. Abel stumbled out of the brush, rubbing his left eye as he moved to sit beside him.

Nickel holstered his weapon and watched him for a moment. "Time?"

"About five hours." Abel yawned and gestured to the mouth above. Nickel nodded. "They must have just started."

Abel stifled another yawn. "So soon? Must be getting ready to move out."

"I figured I'd let you sleep more."

"Not needed."

Nickel rose to his feet, his hand moving to his belt. He looked at the cave again, his eyes narrowing on the thing. He made up his mind. "Let's inform Father and Stitch." Abel gave a thumbs-up as he yawned for a third time, this time shaking his head as if to rattle them away.

He made the short sprint to his father and knelt down beside him. "You been watching?" he asked in a gruff voice. Nickel nodded silently. Leon rose slowly, his eyes lingering on the dancing light in the mouth of the cave. "Let's get Stitch and Abel on their feet. The sooner we do this, the better."

Nickel wondered if he was doubting the idea of this hunt. Why now of all times? Did the gravity of their intended actions finally hit him? There was no way to know but to ask, but Nickel refused to ask a question that would receive no answer.

Stitch and Abel were waiting at the camp, checking their equipment one last time. Stitch favored a spear as his weapon of choice with a green jewel afixed at the end of the handel. Abel favored a bow. Both were dressed in matching garb of furs and leather armor. Aura could protect one from only so much. A little extra protection made all the difference between living and dying.

Leon gave a sharp gesture to the mountain. They would move silently up it until they were upon their enemy. Nickel took point and sniffed out the path, ensuring that abushes could be tripped.

A cold wind came in again. Nickel paused and looked back at the mouth of the cave. The metallic scent of blood was still in the area, but it had shifted just enough for the source to not be the cave. Leon was by his side almost instantly. When Abel and Stitch were beside him, they knelt down just enough so that thick brush covered them from view.

"The blood is moving."

Leon swore in his mind. "Track it."

Nickel rose and followed the scent. The three were not far behind.

They moved swiftly through the brush, careful to not disturb it as best they could. As the morning sun began to crest the horizon, they came upon a clear and a small road. A group of people were loading supplies onto a truck. One of them was injured, holding his left arm. He was reasoning with someone inside the vehicle about his injury, pointing to the mouth of the cave.

Nickel sniffed the air again, and nodded to his father. They readied weapons, rose, and stepped out onto the road.

The young Faunus didn't know what happened next. It was all too fast. Someone fired off a round. It was loud, like thunder, and hard to track. The source had been from all around. He dove back for cover, grabbing two knives and throwing them with ease. Two men hit the ground, the knives lodged cleanly in their throats. They reached to pluck them out, but a bullet and arrow found purchase in their skulls.

Abel released an arrow into the back windshield of the truck, shattering it. The passenger of the truck slumped forward, the arrow piercing through the back of his skull as the driver fought to throw the vehicle into drive.

Leon stood his ground, standing tall amidst the gunfight. He didn't run from anything. His revolver sounded like thunder, ripping through metal and flesh alike as he fanned the hammer. Ten shots fired. Three bodies laid to rest.

The truck bolted, spilling items over the ground and removing cover for four more people. They rose, guns raised, and fired. Stitch stepped in front of the rounds, taking two to the chest, but smiling as he surged forward and speared the closest of the four through the throat. When he yanked his weapon free, a shotgun was put against his side and fired. Aura and leather armor or not, the power of the gun and its rounds ripped through him. His body held together only by his armor that might have fought to keep his organs were they rested, but it didn't matter. He slumped forward, dead.

Abel screamed and fired another arrow. He caught one in the shoulder and when he readied another, a hole formed in his chest. Near death, he fired one last arrow and killed his killer.

Nickel rose up from the bush he had jumped in and opened fire. His shots were clean and true. Two shots fired. Two bodies dropped. The remaining man stood his ground, his shotgun smoking as he squeezed off another round.

Leon's gun boomed one final time.

The bandit fell, his gun falling to the bloodsoaked soil.

All was silent. The wind did not blow. Not even an animal dared to speak or move. The silence was unnerving to Nickel. He had held his breath through the entire thing. From start to finish, it lasted less than ten seconds. Even staring at the corpses that littered the earth, his breathing did not return. When it did, the reality of his actions came back to him; with all their festering delights to toy and berate him.

Nickel had killed men before. It wasn't the first time, and he doubted it would be the last. This was the law of the world. Unspoken as it was, the law was a known thing to all: He who is left standing is the one in the right.

"That's that."

The Faunus growled. Leon emptied his spent shells and slid in new iron before holstering his gun.

"What?" Nickel asked, his voice mixed with anger and shock. "How can you say that?"

"This was justice."

"It was murder. Revenge! Nothing more!"

"I fail to see the difference."

Nickel sank in size at that. A tall young man now made small before this man. He did not see his second father in the same light as did at the start of their journey all those years ago. That light was darkened by...pride? Guilt? Rage? He didn't know. It hurt to see him like this. Too long his father had been idle in their home, longing to return to the road. Perhaps that longing had twisted his virtues into something cold and unforgiving.

For all that stood before him now was an empty shell of a man, burdened by untold sin. The Noble Man lived no more.

Leon stood a little straighter, his eyes now hard, and he caressed the worn hammer of his gun. He never looked down at the bodies. Not because it was too painful, but because it was never something he did. It was the sad and true life of a Gunslinger such as himself. In that moment he did do just that.

As his gaze swept over the fallen, his mind emptied at the sight of Abel and Stitch. "Another life I couldn't save…"

Nickel tilted his head and snorted at him. When he took a breath, his mind screamed a warning. A scent, powerful and close, was soaked in sweets and blood. A scent that was not before them.

"RUN!"

The cry came too late. A black hand snaked out from the trees. It punched right into Leon's chest, threw him against Nickel and kept going. They hit a tree, went through it, and then up part of the mountain before the arm stopped. Like a slithering snake the ampendage drew back, dragging two long white claws along the soil as it did.

Nickel rose to his feet, his eyes frantically darting from shadow to shadow for the beast. His father got to his feet, alarm evident on his face. All the negative emotion by the bandits had surely roused the creature to come seeking the source.

A horrible roar, more like shriek, ripped through the trees. Their ears bled. And from the sound came a figure, much like the noise, that matched it in terror. A monsterous being of dark intent, riding a creature of unspeakable evils. It's long arms dragged along the dirt, twitching with each new rock they drew across.

When father and son were to their feet, it smiled at them. It was happy to see them, yet it's expression was not for harmonious intent, but ill favored intent.

Leon fired his revolver ten times. Ten bullets hit it square in the chest, but did not taste flesh. They pinged off its thick skin, barely leaving a mark. The horse took a step back, snorted in disgust to their presence while its rider tilted its head, smiling still, as it brought one arm above its head.

Nickel talked his father out of the way. He could feel the intent. Its hatred; its lust for murder. They rolled ten paces down the mountain. Though they rolled away from the creature, it had not lost sight of them, and like a snake coiling back for the perfect lung, it's harm hung above its head, poised and ready to be unleashed.

When they stopped rolling, it struck. Fast as lightning. The arm danced around trees, snaking its way to their forms and hit the ground between them, it's two long claws digging at the earth where they once lay.

Leon rolled, grabbed a speed loader from his pouch, slid the new iron in, closed the cylinder, and fired. He took aim, made sure to make the rounds count. They pinged off the bone armor on its head, but the rounds carried weight, and the head, unlike the chest, snapped back. Its neck bent at an odd angle as Leon finished firing all ten rounds. When he stopped, the head jerked back to its normal position, and it's grin grew in size.

Nickel fired on the creature, his aim, clean and true, striking hard against the bone helm that was now cracked from his father's rounds. His head staggered back yet again, though this time, it howled in pain. The bone helm splintered and a black mist seeped from a wound.

The horse, which had done nothing previously, reared up, pawing at the air, before racing in their direction. It's rider released a bellowing scream and flung one arm forward. It darted along the ground, and tagged Leon in his left leg. His aura shone brightly. The long claw stuck in his leg and the horse carried on.

Nickel fired on the arm, eager to blast it off. The horse passed they both. Physics kicked in and the arm went taut. Leon did scream. Not even as his body was yanked away from his son and left to drag along the ground behind the best. He rolled on to his back, ignoring the blistering pain that ran through his body, and fired on the horse's flank. It yelled and stopped moving.

The rider's body twisted fully to face him, and lifted him up. Leon didn't give it the pleasure of a scream. He fired on its face. The thing snorted as each round bounced harmlessly off its body. It brought him close to its face and breathed on him with a stench of death. Then, like a cat playing with a wounded animal, it tossed him aside. Its horse turned to face him, pawing at the earth in protest to the game.

Nickel slid into view, firing from the hip as he fanfired the gun. The horse yelled angrily as each round tore into a side of its body. He tossed a knife at the side of the riders' head where it stuck with ease, under the helm of bone it wore.

The Grimm released a pained scream that carried for miles. It ripped through Nickel's bones and he felt a wedge being driven into his skull. His ears bled, and copper filled his mouth. When the screaming subsided, it looked at them both, a look of joy spread as its jagged teeth began to bleed.

A cry was returned. The morning sun had answered the Grimm's call.

Death was on its way.

Nickel felt the cry more than he heard. They were close. Closer than what he could smell. Their presence was on them, around them, and even in them. He felt coldness slither inside his body. With all his strength, he willed the coldness away.

All of this, created by his second fathers' ambition to do justice.

Leon limped to Nickel's side, clutching his leg with one hand and his revolver with the other. His breathing was pained, his skin now pale. He didn't need to say it. Nickel knew it. They were going to die here. His father, the Noble Man, the man who stood as a beacon of light, and truth to a people who had been devoid of hope, now stood without any to spare. His light, his hope, was now gone.

No… Nickel would have spat at his father for such a thing. A man who proclaimed so much good and hope should not fall in such a way.

The Faunus grabbed his father up, spun and ran. Leon was surprised by the action, but not unwelcomed. He hobbled with his son, ignoring the pain as best he could, and fired a few shots over his shoulder at the beast. It remained it where it, happy and content to watch them flee.

They wouldn't get far. Leon knew that. They could run up the mountain, set fires as they went, keep what they could at bay and fight the rest. He had the ammo, the dust, and the knowhow to do it. Nickel had the strength, the resolve, and the belief that they could get through this.

In that moment Leon realized his error. An error many times he'd challenged and won against: Despair. He'd fought that battle before with himself. Believing one could survive anything was part of the equation to make sure one survive. The other part was strength and the knowledge to do it. Nickel had not given up. Nor did he lack the strength and resolve to keep pushing forward.

Nineteen years old, and now somehow stronger than a man twice his senior.

Leon wanted to laugh bitterly at the idea of such a thing. But here it was. His adopted son, hefting him through a forest, uphill, running from creatures so dark they despised others evils.

His light was fading now. He could feel it. His aura was nearly depleted, healing the injury he had sustained from combat. His foolish pride. The pride that led them here, to their graves.

But perhaps, maybe not both their graves.

An Ursa appeared, yelling angrily as it made a charge from their left. Leon fired once. His round struck it's skull and the thing toppled end over end as it dropped. Another beast replaced it. He dropped that one as well.

Nickel grunted with each shot fired. He felt his muscles begin to burn and his lung ache with pain. The Grimm saw to it that he go a path of their making. He could see it, but do nothing. They blocked him at every turn.

And just like that, they were trapped.

Nickel came to a stop at a cliffs' edge. He looked down at the rushing rapids, shut his eyes, and turned to face the horrors that had chased them this far. His mind raced with images and places he'd seen. Was his life truly flashing before his eyes? Why now? He was alive. Not dead. Those could wait.

"Nothing ends…"

Nickel looked down at his father. Leon shut his eyes tightly, willed himself to his full height. A tall man that stood taller than the shadows before him. It was a ray of hope for Nickel. The Noble Man, his second father, mentor, and friend, now stood anew with hope and power.

Leon turned, offered a smile, placed his hand on Nickel's chest, and shoved him hard.

Nickel blinked in surprise. It was slow for him, as thought fate was kind enough to let him gaze for an eternity at his savior. He saw every detail of his father as he fell down from the cliff. There were no tears. No sorrow or anger. It was pride that he saw on his father's face. Pride and hope. Hope that his son might live to see one more moonlit night.

Nickel did not see his father's last stand against the night. He felt it. The rushing waters and ripping wind could not drown out the sound of his second father's gun. It rang out once. The shot, a thing now far beyond Nickel, hurt him. For in his minds' eye he saw the fight, the shot fired, and the image of his father as he stood. His gun in one hand, poised, ready to fire, a look of defiance across his face, and an army of darkness that lunged to his form. Yet his light shone and he fired. Twice. Three times. His gun cried out against the onslaught.

It did not fire a fourth time. Nickel did not hear it.

The young Faunus hit the water. He broke the surface, coughed up liquids and gasping hungrily for air. His back hurt from the fall, but he paid it no mind. He listened for a fourth shot, a cry that he was okay. Nothing.

He let himself drift in the water. It would take him across Anima, or far enough away from the slaughter. A map would have been helpful, but he didn't have one. He'd never needed one before.

There was no telling how long he lay drifting in the water. The current had taken him far. He didn't recognize any of the scents. When the current finally calmed, his forced his tired muscles to motion and headed for the bank. The ground had never felt more hard in his life. His hand pressed deep into the thick sod, but to him, after what felt like an eternity of being in the powerful current, felt harder than stone.

He pulled himself close to a small tree, put his back to it, closed his eyes, and for the first time since his first home was destroyed, cried.

Nickel didn't move from the tree for hours. He was too sore and tired to do anything. Sleeping in a dark forest with no backup wasn't an option, but his body and mind had other plans. They did not care for the horrors of the unknown. He slept for hours. When he awoke, surprised to find himself still among the living, he glanced up and saw the moon.

Slowly, he got to his feet, though weak as they were, and began heading off towards the scent of smoke. He tried to keep the ill thoughts at bay. What strength he had was limited and a chance meeting with Grimm in his state would end him.

He broke out of the trees and onto a dirt road. It stretched for miles in both directions. The scent he was trailing wasn't that much further, but it was off the road. He stumbled in the direction, once more entering the dark forest.

Brush and fallen trees blocked his path. He stumbled and caught himself on a crack trunk. Warm liquid slid down his arm, but he did not care. His stomach threatened to give away his approach.

He knelt down close to the earth when a natural light began to grow in the distance. Cautiously, he approached, his hand on his revolver. He moved silently until he was near enough to feel the heat of the flames.

Nickel sniffed the air. He could smell people. Their scents were… strange. Not normal to him. He stood up, held his side when his stomach threatened to eat the inner walls of its lining. His shoulder began to ache as well.

A tent that he had not seen before opened and a woman stepped out. She had black hair cut short with two black cat ears atop her head, both with a golden piercing, and wore a black hakama and sandals with white tabi socks and was hugging a thick fur coat to her form.

"Are you alright?"

No words left his mouth. It hung open lifelessly. His eyes began to feel heavy. He looked at his shoulder. His entire arm was soaked in blood. Had his injury that bad? How did it happen? Was it from the fall? He didn't remember.

Pain, hunger, exhaustion, and sorrow finally gripped him. It hit hard. He staggered under his own weight as he fought to remain standing. The woman turned back into the tent, said something, and returned with a man.

The two caught him before he could fall and brought him to the fire.

"What happened?" the man asked.

"I don't know. He stumbled up this way."

Nickel's vision began to fade. He turned his head to the side, peering into the darkness. A man with red hair stepped forward, a hand on the hilt of a blade and a mask like the monsters he'd run from.

"...Grimm…" He weakly gestured to the redhead. The man touched his mask and then looked to the two with a sense of worry.

"Adam, do a sweep of the area!" the man exclaimed as the redhead was already moving to do just that. "Get his clothes off him. He's soaking wet." Nickel's mind slipped into darkness.