To say I had an awful weekend would be putting it lightly. The past three days of work have thrown everything and the kitchen sink at me, including a fairly large hold due to allergen risk, a wrong ingredient dumped in a hopper, wet spice bags, and lots of inspections to juggle around whatever crisis I'm dealing with at the moment. Between that and the fact I'm sitting at about nineteen hours of overtime for the week, I've had little time and energy for writing. I'm about half a chapter behind schedule, but luckily, I should be able to keep up the upload schedule. If I can just go the rest of the week without incident, then I'll get to relax. Just four more days…
To Mr D, thanks for the compliment. Guess I'll have to learn how to animate then. Too bad I don't have much talent with visual arts.
To AxDevilman, I was going for less Cardin rationally sticking to a plan and more acting subconsciously. Kinda hard to think when a Grimm is making you hallucinate your worst fears.
Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Deepest Fear
When Cardin came to, he was standing in the middle of a shattered landscape. Outcroppings of rock and Dust pillars taller than he was jutted from the barren rock. The sky was a swirling maelstrom of red and black clouds, glittering from the Dust they carried. Remnant's shattered moon shone before him, casting long, eerie shadows.
The air had a deathly chill to it, as though he were standing in a morgue. He might as well be, since he could only think of one place in Remnant where Dust grew out of the ground in enormous, pure crystals and the SDC wasn't swarming over them like locusts. Fear bubbled up, but he smothered it. The Grimm would get him if he let himself be afraid. He clung to that conviction, hardening his resolve around it.
Aura blazed in his arms, holding back the chill of the Grimmlands. He looked up, thinking to see some kind of ceiling. Though the clouds were far beyond his reach, he sent his Semblance to cast them down, without knowing why.
Cardin turned, examining the landscape around him. Off to his right was a castle, standing tall amid the desolation. Magnificent glass windows lined its stone walls, but not a single ray of light shone from them.
It might be the only shelter on the entire continent, but taking in the castle, the landscape, and the ominous colors swirling overhead, Cardin said "Nope" and walked away from the probable deathtrap.
The world slid around him as he took his step. Feeling as though a carpet had been yanked out of him, Cardin had to swing his arms to stay upright. When he regained his balance, he was indoors. Glass windows stood around him, looking out onto the dead landscape and crimson sky. A door was in front of him, solid, black, and when he tried the knob, locked.
When he turned around, he saw a long table, with a white tablecloth laid over it. A vast feast was laid out, piled so high it hid the other side of the table, pies, roasts dripping red with their juices, bowls of steaming vegetables, pitchers of wine and water, loaves of bread darkly crusted and fresh from the oven, buckets of chilled shellfish with trenchers of clarified butter, vibrant salads tossed with oil, and plates of pastries, cakes, and truffles, but he couldn't smell any of it.
Four chairs sat empty on either side of the table, made of glossy white stone. Windows lined every wall, and although he could see through them, none of the red light shone on the table. Instead, the room's light came from a chandelier shaped like an inverted tree, with glass bulbs like teardrops dangling from the tips of its white branches, that shone with a flickering purple light. It cast no shadows.
"What are you waiting for?" a woman's voice called from across the table. "Sit down and eat. It's been quite some time since I've had a guest."
Cardin shivered. The disdain in her voice made him feel as though he were an insect she had taken casual interest in, to be crushed underfoot if it displeased her. He stepped towards the table, and the world lurched again. This time, Cardin fell, but a chair zipped under him, a high-backed seat that looked and felt as though it had been carved from a solid mass of human bone.
Cardin loaded up his plate, but he didn't touch any of the food. "Might I ask who you are?"
The woman chuckled. Cardin felt his bones freeze, and his hands tightened around the arms of his chair. Maybe he could bring down this ceiling, if he tried hard enough.
"You don't recognize me? Oh wait, I left all this food between us. Silly me, I'll take care of it."
The food floated aside, hovering over the empty seats. Through the cleared space, Cardin could see the woman – no, thing – sitting at the other end. Glowing red veins bulged out from her chalk-white skin. Her hair hung in stringy, silvery strands like spider-web, bunched up with black cord, making it look as though a giant pale spider squatted on the back of her head.
"What are you?"
The monster chuckled. "You don't know? Ozma does love keeping secrets, doesn't he?" She leaned back on her throne, a seat made of glossy black Dust crystals jutting out at odd angles. "Tell me about yourself first."
He told the monster his name. It scoffed and asked for more, where he came from, what he was and did, who his friends and enemies were. Minutes dragged by as he told the thing his life story, but by the time he finished, steam still rose from the pies and breads, and the ice hadn't melted in the shellfish buckets.
"Just a child," the monster mused, "And one of my Seers failed to break you. What a fascinating specimen." A smile curled her lips, though it did nothing to still the enmity in her blood-red eyes. "Perhaps you would be of more use to me unbroken."
He tried to look her in the eyes, but his heart lurched and quivered under her baleful gaze. He looked down, at the untouched portions on his plate. Maybe making the roof fall on her head wouldn't do anything, but it couldn't hurt to try. His arms still thrummed with Semblance, but he couldn't tell if the chill in his chest came from Aura depletion or the bottled-up fear of being seated across from this monstrosity. "You never told me your name."
"Yes, I suppose I should. It's only polite." She cleared her throat. "My name is Salem."
The name echoed in his head. He knew he had heard it before, though he couldn't identify where or when. "The Queen of the Grimm," he whispered. It carried across the room, bouncing off the windows like a chorus of frightened souls.
"So you have heard of me." Salem leaned forward, her plate sliding away to make room for her elbows. "Ozma must have brought you into his inner circle. Interesting."
Salem cocked her head, listening to a voice only she could hear. Then she nodded. "Ah, the Seer told you. Still, you could serve me well."
"Serve you?" Cardin asked, voice mild and polite. "Why would I do that?"
"So I don't leave you a gibbering shell of a man, for a start." She rose, and the food vanished. "Come. Let me show you something."
Cardin left his seat and backed away, but the world slid again. When the world righted itself, Salem was standing right next to him. Cardin jumped and shied away, nearly falling down the cliff surrounding them. Looking down, he saw that they stood on a giant pillar of Dust, at least a couple hundred feet tall. Further in front of him was a bubbling black pool, somehow crystal clear despite its color, deep enough to reach the heart of Remnant. From its putrid surface rose Grimm, clawing, scraping their way up the rocky shore, black droplets running off their fur and feathers and mask, running from their eyes like tears.
The newly created Grimm shuffled down the gaps left in the ranks of their brethren. Cardin peered into the horizon, trying to judge how many Grimm stood before him, and realized that the horizon was Grimm. Indistinct mountains in the distance had bone masks and stares like crimson lighthouse beacons. The Grimm standing closer to him, Beowolves, Ursa, Boarbatusks, and some he had never seen before, waited without moving, like Atlesian Knights sitting on their charging stations. He looked farther out, hunting for the slightest hint of movement, but the Grimm landscape was still.
"There are more underground," Salem said. "Many, many more. If I wished it, I could drown the other continents in Grimm, like you see before you, and still have enough to fill an ocean or two."
Cardin turned, taking in the Grimm-infested vista. Nevermore were perched on hollowed-out cliffs, and Feilongs lounged in a wide river meandering off in the distance. "We've landed here before and haven't seen this many."
"It's been a while," Salem said, "And I made sure they never made it far enough to see this. It wouldn't do to have humans poking around my castle."
Cardin raised an eyebrow at her, though just looking in the direction, let alone making such a show of exaggerated emotion, made his stomach curdle. "Why would you care? If all you need to do to win is wave your hand, why don't you?"
"Because that would be boring." She held up one hand, examining the bulging veins and white skin in the shattered moonlight. "Tell me, what do you know of the Brothers?"
"One for creation, one for destruction, made Remnant and left." Cardin shrugged. "That's about it."
"They didn't leave, not right away." She lowered her hand, placing it on Cardin's shoulder. Her touch made him flinch, but she didn't seem to notice. "They stuck around to play around with their humans. They built temples for themselves and invited humans to pay tribute to them. Big surprise, the humans went to the one that gave bountiful harvests and healthy children instead of the one that made famine and illness. All of them, except me."
"What made you go to him?"
"I lost someone dear to me, before his time. When I asked the elder Brother to bring him back to me, he refused. It would break the cycle. So, I went to the younger. He also refused me at first, but when I asked why he felt bound by the rules, why he couldn't break them as he wished, he agreed. My loved one was brought back to me." Salem's fingers tightened around his shoulder, and her fingernails, as sharp and black like obsidian knives, sliced into his skin. "But the elder Brother noticed. He convinced the younger that I had tricked him and forced me to live forever as punishment for breaking his precious cycle of life and death."
"Ironic," Cardin said.
Salem chuckled, a rasping sound that set Cardin's teeth on edge. "I like you. It would be a shame to have to break you." Her hand crept down to his back, poised to push him off their platform and into the bubbling pit the Grimm had crawled from.
"It didn't take long for me to give in to despair and madness. At first, I tried to rally the humans against the Brothers, claiming that they kept immortality from us out of spite and showing them I couldn't die. I made allies of every kingdom, their rulers eager to live forever, and attacked the Brothers. It wasn't anywhere close to a fair fight. The younger Brother burned the armies of men and cast pieces of the moon on the landscape. They left, leaving the few survivors, myself included, to pick up the pieces."
Cardin felt his typical boredom at the history lesson, but the hand on his back kept him from yawning or interrupting with an impolite quip. Instead, he asked, "How do the Grimm come into this?"
"They were the younger Brother's playthings, made to amuse him while the humans lavished attention on the elder. Once they were gone, all that remained of the Brother of Destruction was this pool he had once called home." Salem's lips twisted into a wry smile. "Since the waters of Creation made me immortal, I thought that these waters might undo the curse." Her fingers drummed on his back. Each one felt like a tiny shove, pushing him closer to the edge. "Do you have any idea how agonizing it is to be submerged in pure destructive power, trying everything to tear your body apart, and being kept alive through it all?"
He looked down at the pool and shuddered. "I'm guessing I'll find out if I turn down your offer."
"A good guess. Anyways, once I crawled out of that wretched pit, I found that the Grimm answered my orders. At first, I tried ruling over the humans, using my control of Grimm to grant them paradise." Her eyes flashed, and she grabbed the back of his shirt, crushing it in her grip. "Let's just say, someone turned the people against me, and I was banished to this place, where I have remained ever since."
Cardin's toes hung over the edge of the pillar, but he didn't dare try to step back, not with Salem poised to shove him forward. Instead, he asked, "If you aren't trying to kill every human, then what do you want?"
For once, the voice sounded hesitant. "I'm not sure. I still long for my existence to end, but not before I've had my revenge. I'm not entirely sure I can achieve that. Ozma's been forced to endure the immortality I suffered, except as a parasite, taking host after host through the ages. I know it's grated on him, slowly destroying the people he occupies. I've seen him drink more than one life away, and he even tried suicide a few times. Killing him would be a kindness he does not deserve."
"As for the Brothers, I doubt they care what I do to this world. They've abandoned it for so long, abandoned Ozma and all the rest of the humans. I slaughtered millions and let the Grimm feast on their corpses, drowned the seas in blood, and they did nothing. I set factions against each other, letting humanity tear itself apart before their eyes, and they did nothing. But there is one way to get their attention."
She looked down at him, studying his expression as he studied hers. Cardin felt his skin crawl under her gaze, but he took a slow, deep breath and met her stare.
"Tell me," she asked, "Have you heard anything about the Relics?"
Cardin shook his head. She told him of the four Relics, their powers, how Ozma had hidden them away, and the four keys required to access their vaults.
"That's what Cinder is after," Cardin said.
"Yes. Unfortunately, she only has half of the Fall Maiden's power. Until she takes the other half, the Relic of Choice is out of my reach."
"And Ironwood has the Relic of Creation."
One of her pale, thin eyebrows rose. "How do you know that?"
"Ironwood used it to create a robot with Aura. He mentioned that its source had ancient protections."
Salem's other hand rose to stroke her chin. "It has been a while since a human has had the audacity to use that Relic. Ozma won't be pleased if he finds out."
"So, you want me to help you acquire the four Relics, so you can summon the Brothers and either kill them or let them kill you. What happens after?"
"After? For you humans, I suppose?" When Cardin nodded, she said, "I have no interest in you. You may do as you please."
"Does that mean you would get rid of the Grimm?"
Salem snapped her fingers. As far as the eye could see, the black landscape dissolved and floated away in black motes. The Nevermore on their perches, the Feilong in the river, every Beowolf and Ursa and the hulking Goliaths in the distance, disappeared. A Wyvern, hidden behind the clouds, fell from the sky, dissolving away before it hit the ground. Once the dust had cleared, all that remained was a barren plain, trodden flat by the hordes of Grimm.
"If that is your wish, it will be done."
Cardin took a deep breath and looked out over the edge. By all logic, he should take her offer, that he had no other escape from the fate that awaited him with a single push, but the Semblance still burned in his arms, that voiced whispered over and over, pounding that mantra into his skull, to not feel fear, fear is death, fear will let them control him, and he knew against all evidence, all reason, that there were wooden beams over him that would fall if he just pushed a little more Aura into them.
"Why offer me this?" Cardin asked. "As powerful as you are, you don't need me to get the Relics for you. I can't even serve as one of the Maidens, if you have those restrictions right, nor do I know who any of them are or where the Relics are hidden. I have resources and connections, but my house is on the verge of ruin thanks to Cinder. Why do you want me?"
"Because you intrigue me. You are cautious, but not fearful, skeptical, but not blinded by your beliefs. With time, you could be a very powerful ally, especially if Ozma takes interest in you."
"That would be dangerous."
"You wouldn't be the first of my spies Ozma has killed. Don't get caught, and it won't be a problem."
As Cardin hesitated, pondering how to continue the conversation, Salem hoisted him by the shirt and lifted him over the edge. "I'm starting to get bored, Cardin. Time to make your choice."
Cardin forced himself to hang limp and not look down at the bubbling pit of death below him. He might have three seconds or ten, but such a short span of time wouldn't matter if his Semblance didn't do something that instant. Ignoring the sensation of frost coating his lungs, Cardin pushed the last of his Aura out around him, willing his surroundings to get heavier.
"Well?" Salem asked. Her grip loosened, and Cardin's shirt slid an inch before coming to a sudden stop. Cardin's heart leapt into his throat, but he kept up the pressure with his Aura.
A sharp crack, like thunder, came from overhead, but none of the swirling clouds held a single spark. Salem looked up, puzzled. "Did that come from the other end? Her eyes narrowed at him. "You did something, didn't you?"
His tongue froze, though he tried to deny having done anything. The last thing he needed was to be on the black book of the Grimm Queen. He took a deep breath and prepared to explain himself, but Salem never gave him the chance. She let go, and he tumbled through the air.
Cardin spread his arms, searching for some spark of Aura within him, but he was spent, cold, shivering with exertion and pent-up fear. Fifty feet. Forty. Thirty.
Blink.
A wooden beam slammed to the ground next to him, crushing the Seer. Black motes drifted out from under the fallen wood. Watts cursed and reached for his gun, but another timber gave way, slamming into the back of his head. His gun clattered to the floor, and the key to the birdcage, once nestled in his coat pocket, bounced out and landed next to Cardin's chair.
With the extra weight of half the roof on the floor, something snapped, and the floor caved downward, sagging as more and more of the roof piled onto it. It broke, and the room disappeared in a shower of wooden splinters and falling debris. When he hit the bottom floor, the chair split under his weight, and the base snapped off. As the chair fell apart, the straps holding Cardin fell away. The chair turned, and Cardin felt a sharp pain in his gut when he landed. Pushing himself up, he saw a long shard of wood sticking out of his stomach.
"Not again," he growled.
The two Knights that were by the door had fallen through and were crushed under a wooden beam. One reached for its gun, but it lay out of reach of its claw-like hands. Watts, also having fallen to ground level, was on his feet, but reeling, woozy from the blow to his head.
A glint of metal, just in front of his face, caught his eye. He reached for it, brushing aside the dust and wooden shrapnel that hid it. It was the key. He snatched it up and looked for the birdcage. The table was still on the second floor, but as he watched, the table pitched forward, spilling his Scroll, the doctor's note, and the birdcage. The crow squawked as its cage hit the ground floor, and as it was thrown against the metal bars, the spikes on the inside dug into it, but Aura prevented them from drawing blood.
Watts had mentioned a Semblance, had expected it to come. Whoever was in there might be the only aid he'll have against Watts and his remaining rogue Knights.
He crawled on all fours, taking shallow breaths to keep the sliver of wood from moving too much. Step by agonizing step, he approached the birdcage. The crow watched him approach, waiting.
Watts bellowed at the two robots still in the stairway. "Kill him!"
Two Knights marched into the room, guns raised, but one slipped on a roof tile, taking the other down with it. They fired their guns, trying to hit Cardin, but their guns were pointed into the concrete floor. The rounds turned the floor beneath them to gravel.
"Must I do everything myself?" Watts hissed as he fumbled around the floor for his gun, having dropped it during the fall. Cardin wasn't about to tell him it was right behind him, under a blanket of roof tiles. Gritting his teeth, Cardin pushed on, scratching his hands and knees on broken concrete. Splinters dug into his palms, but Cardin didn't stop to wrap his shirt around his hands.
The pain, the wooden beam crashing down right behind him, the gunshots roaring from the downed Knights, everything faded away, leaving only the sliver of vision that held the birdcage. His head spun and his limbs shook as he grew closer. As he came within arm's reach, he shoved the key forward, struggling to put it in the lock with his trembling hand. The tip brushed against the keyhole, sticking there long enough for Cardin to push down, forcing the key to twist in his hands. When it sank all the way in, Cardin turned, opening the cage with a snap. The door sprang open, and the crow flapped out in a shower of feathers.
A burst of gunfire filled the room, the two Knights outside having stumbled their way into the room and Watts having just found his gun. Cardin turned, raising his arm in front of his face, but a Hunstman stood before him, deflecting the shots with an enormous sword. His tattered red cloak fluttered behind him as he rushed forward, taking out both standing Knights with a single swing of his sword.
Watts shot the Huntsman in the side while he was undefended, but Aura absorbed the impact. The Hunstman winced in pain and crouched in a defensive stance, eyeing Watts warily.
"I have to admit, I'm not much of a fighter," Watts said, raising both his hands. "So, why don't you take Cardin to a hospital and let me go?"
The Huntsman looked back at Cardin. Cardin did his best to look as though he wasn't feeling woozy from blood loss and Grimm-induced hallucinations, but from the way the Hunstman frowned at him, he must have looked as horrible as he felt.
Before the Hunstman could reply, the descent of a Bullhead shook the debris. Heavy thumps, marking the deployment of more Knights, came from just outside the door. Winter's voice carried through the open room, ordering the Knights to form a perimeter.
The Huntsman smirked at Watts and shouted up through the roof, "Ice Queen, get Cardin to Ozpin. I'm going after the perp."
"Qrow, is that you?" she shouted back. "This is an Atlesian operation, do not interfere."
"Funny, I thought you guys got kicked out of Vale. Just get Cardin to Ozpin, now. A Seer got him."
Watts meanwhile, was scowling and digging in his coat pockets. When Qrow turned back to his adversary, Watts threw some black spheres on the ground, filling the room with dense black smoke. With the Huntsman distracted, Watts sprinted upstairs, making his way around the hole in the center of the second floor to the safe, still sitting in the corner. He reached around the back, hitting a hidden switch, before jumping back to ground level, scrambling for a hidden escape hatch, and slamming it shut behind him.
Two of Winter's Knights pounded on the closed hatch while Winter and Qrow carried him into the Bullhead. Winter hurried to the pilot, having them take off immediately, while Qrow peered into Cardin's eyes, forcing them to stay open with his fingers.
"You with me, kid?"
"Yeah," Cardin croaked. "Thanks."
"Thank my niece. She called me to the hospital, and I caught a glimpse of them dragging you into that Bullhead." His smile disappeared, and he gently put a hand on Cardin's shoulder. "Did the Seer do anything?"
As Cardin struggled to remember what had happened, memories flooded back to him in an overwhelming deluge, sweeping away the last of his adrenaline-fueled fortitude. Betrayal, torture, pain, a sea of Grimm, spreading out as far as the eye could see, and Salem. He didn't try to stop the tears, didn't even have the presence of mind to, as the Hunstman set his face in his lap.