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Something Wicked This Way Comes
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She was a gardener
And the world was her garden.
She grew, she nurtured, she cared.
But for the weeds, she plucked
Without mercy.
.
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In a palace carved of obsidian glass, the Wicked Witch dwelled.
Her sanctum resided in the land of Spriggan, where none of the Four Kingdoms dared reach. A land where Grimm claimed home and roamed free.
Salem's pale fingers drummed across the meeting room table, setting everyone at the summons on edge. Her nails tapped like daggers across their skin, plucking at the unseen strings that made them puppets.
Her breath gave them permission to breathe. The parting of her lips meant they should listen.
"Would someone care to explain why we have fallen so far behind schedule? Anyone? You're all certainly able-bodied and sound of mind. Many of you work tirelessly and express such loyalty, it's inspiring. Truly, it is." She paused. "And yet, we are still lacking. Surely, there must be some cause of this. Or do you feel an absence of urgency?"
Those gathered around the table remained silent. Their necks bent forwards and heads hunched down.
"The question was not rhetorical. Must I resort to such base practices as making an example of one of you? My word so light you can afford not to take it seriously?"
Still, more silence. A tension heavier than tar weighed on their shoulders. It made any words stick in their throats.
"One of you, say something before I tear the heart of every corpse soon to be found at this table."
"—We apologize for our delays," one voice spoke up. "Our faction of the White Fang has run into unforeseen difficulties. We're working to correct the problems, so that we can fulfill our part of the plan on time."
"Finally, one speaks. The only one with a spine, apparently. Although, I am rather surprised to hear this news from you and not a certain other. Do tell, Adam—where is dear Raven?"
"I…don't know," Adam swallowed. "She's ignored my calls prior to the summit."
"Hmmm…speak your mind, lieutenant. I sense you have more to say on the matter."
"She is defective and a traitor to our cause. A deserter, who shouldn't have been welcomed back under any circumstance," Adam voiced his frustrations. "I know her, she is my former mentor. There is no doubt she plans to betray you."
"I am completely aware of Raven's backstage plots."
Adam turned to the front of the table in surprise.
"You know? Then, why?"
"She proves useful. Because of her actions, Mistral grows ever the useful pawn. Even if she acts unwittingly."
"I don't understand."
"There is no need to, Adam. Now, what becomes of the White Fang's notorious leader?"
"Temujin loses more support every day. By refusing to participate in the war and staying in Vacuo, she's practically announced to every Faunus she doesn't care what happens to them. It's only a matter of time before my faction succeeds hers. There are some advocating for Raven, but they represent a minority."
"Good, good. I had high hopes for your predecessor once upon a time. She was a most reliable right hand," Salem feigned her lament. "How fitting it would be if you succeeded where she failed."
Adam bowed. "I only do what is right by my people."
"And I will do right by you. The Faunus will have their day, I guarantee that," Salem revealed an icy smile. "Of course, the subject of your affections is a given. The young Miss Belladonna is of mutual interest."
Adam didn't know what the Witch meant by that, but sensed his time to speak was over. As a result, the young man leaned back into his chair as the topic of conversation shifted.
"Hades," Salem's voice echoed. "How does the situation fare in Atlas?"
A tall man donned in spiked black armor rested his arms on the table. The sounds of gears and hydraulics whined with his minutest movements.
"Not well, your grace," his voice hissed with heavy distortion. "It is proving difficult to garner any influence in the higher echelons. The fools only listen to those who have the most coin or bear the last name Schnee. My apologies for my failings, your grace."
"Atlas…what an unexpected thorn in my side. Who would have guessed the Kingdom's corrupt capitalistic government would work in their favor at a time like this? Though, I suppose it is also that very reason the fools suffer a false complacency."
"The situation does present opportunity to start an uprising in the poor."
"Hmph. A method you've proposed before, I remember," Salem grunted with dissatisfaction. "Very well. Act as you see fit, but bring me results—Or as invaluable as you think you may be, I'll dispose of you and find another. Keep collateral damage to a minimum."
The Witch hated the idea of unnecessary destruction. Her greater purpose required sacrifice, much sacrifice. But in the end, she was trying to rebuild something that was once lost. Though everything before her eyes could turn to dust, and she wouldn't even blink. A paradox lived within the Witch—salvation, in the form of destruction.
"Where are we with the Maidens?" she asked Hades.
The individual was Salem's sole high-ranking agent in Atlas, and as such, had full access to the Cross Continental Transmit System(CCTS). Although he still expected it, Hades coughed under the prolonged questioning.
"The current Maiden of Winter wears thin, your grace. She was ill-chosen to begin with and will not last your prolonged assault. Should you wish it, her powers are yours at a moment's notice."
"Excellent. And the others?"
"Reports across the network suggest no change in the Fall Maiden's status. Cinder Fall remains frozen atop Beacon's tower, beyond the reach of Vale's forces, and our own."
"We can afford to let her keep for now."
"The Maiden of Spring's last sighting was in the far south of Vale's continent."
They all heard a hologram crackle and turned in the direction.
There, a small man with frizzled white and black hair looked, bug-eyed. An uncontrollable tremor shook his hands, as he tried to hold them still.
"Continue," Salem's voice called, ordering them to pay no mind.
*Ahem* "The Maiden of Summer's location," Hades went on, "…continues to elude us. There have been no reports on the subject's whereabouts across any of the Kingdoms."
The whole room went deathly quiet.
Although the Witch hadn't uttered a word in reply, those present could sense the anger emanating from her. Like murderous intent wafting through the air, the summit's attendees went stock still in fear—wishing that if they didn't move or breathe long enough, her wrath would come to pass.
"Hm." Salem's nails drummed on the table again, piercing her glare through each seat one by one. "Why do you waste my time?"
Some swallowed hard. Sweat collecting at their temples.
"If none of you have anything else to report, why do you yet linger?"
None of them could leave their chairs fast enough.
A herd of feet shuffled from the group, who some were the most influential and dangerous individuals in the whole of Remnant. Otherwise kings amongst their own, were only mere pawns to the Witch.
As frightened as they were, they also carried a mysterious sense reverence for their "Queen". Her anger was never hate. She never truly despised them, which was odd. And while she commanded obedience, many gave their loyalty without the need of it.
Once the room was clear, Salem breathed a dull sigh.
Why does the Summer Maiden prove so difficult to locate?
The last true unknown factor that could hinder my plans…
…What trickery did Summer Rose perform to make the Maiden's Inheritance so feint, in comparison to the others?
The sound of a crackling hologram interrupted Salem's thoughts. She drew her gaze to the one who interrupted the conversation before.
"Henry," she addressed pleasantly. "How is our little pet project coming along?"
"Project Overlord is prog…progressing smoothly," the man stuttered in a fragile tone. "After more te-te-te…testing, I can provide an accurate value of Bean's abilities."
"Hm…According to intelligence from Hades, you will soon have data from a live test. Shall I look forward to the results, Henry?"
"Yes…yes. Bean will be ready."
"Good. That makes me very happy."
"Yes…yes. Happy."
"Get some rest, Henry. You look tired."
The image of the tiny man flickered. Even through the fuzziness of the projection, his deep saggy eyes were apparent.
"Not tired," he croaked. "Still…work to do."
"Right, of course. I've taken enough of your valuable time. Make me proud."
"Yes…back to work…Yes."
The hologram zapped and disappeared.
Salem was now truly alone.
She gazed outside her window, to the various Grimm roaming her lands. Large and small, some the size of insects, while others the girth of mountains. The Witch closed her eyes and felt the others all across Remnant.
She fed into their hate and despair, like a delicious morsel between her teeth. And vice versa, the creatures of malcontent took notice of her presence. Some turned to look in her direction, and others paid no mind.
The Witch could also feel the presence of the Maidens, vaguely but surely—save for a certain well-hidden one.
And somewhere in the farthest reach, she sensed him too…
The focus of her most ancient ire.
"Ozpin…"
She wasn't foolish enough to believe the reports on the Headmaster's demise. If he was so easily disposed of, Salem would have won undisputable rights to Remnant long ago.
Cinder had done well. Exceedingly so, but—
No. The Old One yet lives.
The Witch tried to reach for him.
Ozpin…
She could feel her cold fingers almost wrap around the shard of his existence.
Ozpin!
But then, it was gone.
This little game of ours is going to end, you arrogant old fool. And when it does, I'm going to delight in snuffing the last bit of you from all existence.
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X
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"Ozpin."
Qrow looked at the silver cane resting on the table. His forehead wrinkled as he brought another glass to his lips.
Lately, his sleep was plagued with mysterious dreams. Nightmares of Summer and Autumn. Moments of dread, in a place where only Grimm existed. Memories of beautiful times and worlds falling to ruin.
Only to wake up and remember none of it. Just the trace feelings of depression and the out-of-place nausea that his world didn't quite mesh with the ones of his slumber.
Trying to take his mind off the fatigue, the Huntsman continued to drink alone in the corner of the tavern. An establishment located near the west beach of Mistral.
The journey across the ocean was difficult. Borders were under close inspection, from Vale and Mistral alike. A task made more difficult with all the help he had to provide Ruby and her new team.
The tavern's waitress walked by and placed a drink on his table, then departed with a hospitable smile. When Qrow reached for the glass, a Grimm helm set on top of it.
"—That's enough of that, I think."
"For this little reunion? Not even close," Qrow grumbled, meeting his sister dead in the eyes.
He lifted Raven's mask and downed his drink with annoyance. After ordering two more and knocking them back in succession, he pulled out his scroll. A sequence of numbers was dialed, and then tossed onto the table.
A second later, Taiyang Xiao Long's miniature form hummed to life on the electronic surface.
"Tai."
"Raven."
The former spouses shared a silent staring contest for a moment.
"You mind telling us what you're dragging Yang into?"
"You mean, what's she's dragged herself into," Raven crossed her arms.
"She's following you because she believes in you. She shouldn't."
"But she is, and she does."
"You're putting her in danger."
"Hmph," Raven scoffed. "She's safer than she ever was with you. Yang's understanding what it takes to survive in this world. She might be skirting danger, but she's learning to fight the real battles. And that makes her safer than she's ever been."
"Look, I'm all for her learning to fend for herself. We're not going to be around forever, and she's going to have to rely on her own someday." Taiyang shook his head slowly. "But do you really think having her in Mistral, letting her take part in this war, is that the way to do it?"
"Mistral's going to win this, Tai. Atlas is going to burn. So is Vale—maybe Patch too, if it gets bad enough. Would you rather she be on the losing side?"
"We have different opinions on that, but that's beside the point. I'm not letting you do whatever you want with my daughter."
"Then, by all means. Come on over. Whisk her away home. Try to keep her away from me, locked up in her room. Oh wait," Raven leaned down, "you already tried that."
"Raven."
"And what did she do? She walked away, Tai. She didn't belong where she was, and she walked. Sound familiar?"
"Yang isn't you," Taiyang glared up.
"You wouldn't say that if you saw her now. And I'm not even around. She's growing up all by herself, no parental guidance needed."
"Please…Raven."
"What?"
"If you care about her at all, please. Send my daughter back. Just think what Summer would have wanted."
"DON'T," Raven snarled, slamming her fist on the table. "Don't. You. Even. Dare."
"I'm just sayi—"
"That's low. Even for you… You don't bring Summer into this. No one does. You lie to Ruby however you want. But not my girl."
"YOUR girl?! Since when have you ever shown a shred of—"
"—Enough, the both of you!" Qrow interrupted. "I swear, some of our fights with Salem or the Grimm were more civil than this."
He was about to take another drink, but Raven snatched it out of his hands and drank it herself. Her eyes shone with a deadly sheen, as they turned back to the hologram.
"You want Yang?" she spat. "I can give you her number and her address. Try to convince her to head back to Patch. Go ahead. But I'm warning you—if you ever try to force her to do anything she doesn't want, I'll cut you down. She needs to be on her own more than she needs you. You just have your head stuck so far up your ass you can't see that!"
"You don't get to tell me what's best for Yang! You're not her mother!" Taiyang shouted back. "You abandoned her, and left her with me!"
"I didn't leave Yang with you! I left Yang with SUMMER!"
"…"
Raven took a second to catch her breath and pinch the bridge of her brow.
"But Summ isn't here anymore…" her tone calmed with sorrow. "You did your best, but it wasn't enough. If Yang can raise herself, I plan on letting her. Whether you approve or not, doesn't matter a damn to me."
Taiyang's projection was struck speechless for a few moments. Qrow thought about speaking up, but knew it wasn't his place.
"This…isn't how it should be," Taiyang's voice hummed low.
"You think?" Raven replied bitterly.
"No… I mean, this." A loud sigh escaped him. "We should talk about what really matters."
"…"
"How is she? How's our daughter?"
Raven's demeanor softened. Her voice grew more sympathetic.
"She's fine, Tai. Yang's doing well. I can't say I'm fond of her choice in teammates, but they're also helping her grow in their own way. She's a tough kid."
"That, she is."
Qrow looked on at the two and felt nostalgia pang his heart. The world hardened him, gouged out a lot of his sentimentality over the years. But he never forgot what STRQ Team was.
And here they were, their three remaining members. Different paths traveled, but still in the same place—albeit one by holographic interface.
"Have the nobles done anything about her yet?" Qrow asked.
Raven turned to him. "No. I'm sure they don't know what to make of her yet. There was a contract her team filled that was issued by one, but not much else. Even if they did try something, I have enough clout to make them back off."
"Oh, really?"
"Of course. I'm Raven Branwen. The one who brokered an alliance with the White Fang when Parliament needed soldiers most. Also, the savior and upholder of Faunus rights."
"Heh. And how many people are wise to all that?"
"The right people," Raven worded firmly.
"If you say so. The news is crediting your work to Parliament and the other noble houses. You might not have as much clout as you think. Keep watching your back, Raven."
"And who was the one who taught you that lesson, little brother? But, onto the next topic. Why are you and Ruby here? Does she know about Yang?"
"No, but it's only a matter of time," Qrow shrugged. "Team ENMY is building a reputation. Wonder how things'll play out if they meet."
"Who knows. And the reason you're all here and not shoring up Vale's fighting force is?"
"…" Qrow only squinted his eyes.
"Deciding whether to let the 'enemy' in on your little secret?"
"Something like that. You wanna tell me what your plans are?"
"Ultimately, the same as yours." Raven gulped another drink that was provided. "It ends with Salem's corpse dead at my feet."
"Heh," Qrow chuckled. "So how do you plan on doing that? Mistral wins the war and Argent rules all the Kingdoms? You reunite your White Fang with Temujin's? Then everybody launches a campaign into Spriggan and a war on Salem's front doorstep?
"Maybe. Better chance than looking for Ozpin and praying he's still alive."
"…" Qrow threw her a suspicious stare.
"Anyone with half a sense could make that guess."
"Hmph," Qrow scoffed. "Maz clued me in on something. A Tower east of the Windpath. Heard of anything like that?"
"From Masa, huh? Can't say I have. I know there are some old ruins that way, but I've never been. No reason to."
"Guessed as much. And while we're at it, let's keep this between us, shall we? You don't do anything to get in my way, and I don't get in yours."
"Fair's fair, little brother." Raven got up and put her mask back on. "I'd stay longer, but I think it's better to leave this on a high note."
"Always knew how to make an exit."
"It's either that, or you two piss me off again."
"—Raven," Taiyang called up. "Promise me, you'll look out for her."
"I won't," Raven refused. "I have enough on my hands to worry about without Yang. She doesn't need anyone looking out for her anyway."
"I can't help but worry."
"Well, don't." Raven paused. She looked to be thinking hard on something. "I know I don't have the right to say this, but I'm asking this on her behalf. Probably the only motherly part of me I know I'm right about."
"What's that?"
"…Whatever happens, whatever she does—" she breathed a long exhale. "—Don't hate her for what she becomes…Whatever she becomes."
"…Personal experience?"
"It could make all the difference."
"…"
"Take care of yourself, Tai. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of this war."
"…I think I could say the same to you. Summer would've agreed."
"You two always cared too much."
Whether the statement was complimentary or a diminishment was unclear. Such was the ex-spouses' relationship. Love and hate intertwined themselves so deep, they were hard to differentiate.
Raven ordered another drink for Qrow before she left.
And with her departure, the remaining members of STRQ Team separated again to travel down their respective paths.
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X
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The sound of a motorcycle revving sent birds flying from every tree along the road.
Piston-fire from the engine could be heard for miles out, echoing over the low hills. Nothing much in the landscape except forest, meadow—and a ramshackle house centered in a clearing.
Mercury parked the Bumblebee Mk. II at the front gate before the cottage.
He powered down the motorcycle's engine. The kickstand flicked out with a bit more force than necessary. His helmet was lifted and left to rest on the handlebar.
"Hm."
Mercury stared at his old home for a while, half a thought to just turning around and driving the hell away. The jumbled memories bouncing around his head didn't help the decision either.
Eventually, he decided on going up to the worn-out shack. Emerald, who remained silent chose to wait by their ride.
As Mercury entered the house, he could see evidence of animals making the place their home. No signs of people. No squatters, which Mercury half-expected there to be.
The young man stood outside his childhood room for a second, before turning the door knob. He found it exactly the way he left it, the day he killed his father and was recruited by Cinder.
A small bed occupied the spartan-style room. Different weapons littered the floor and table, from disassembled guns to chipped knives. The tools of the trade for the assassin his father was training him to be. And of course, the bandages.
Long rolls of gauze splashed with red strewn the floor. Mercury saw an eyepatch he once had to use, after a certain "training accident". Cheap ointment and other medical supplies sat about the place within arm's reach of everything else.
He could still remember the smell of blood and rubbing alcohol, and it made his nose turn. Wounds that were long healed seemed to ache under his skin. And he was overcome with the sickening urge to burn it all down.
There was nothing sentimental about it.
The room only served as a place to lick his wounds. No ways in fond memories.
Eventually, Mercury walked around to the backyard.
There, stood a headstone behind a mound of dirt where Marcus Black was buried. The grave had no decorations, no signs of ceremony. No words etched on the slab of rock either.
Mercury remembered tossing his father's body into the hole like a sack of flour. He spat on his corpse before shoveling dirt on it. The young man didn't even want to provide a gravestone, but something indescribable urged him to. He also considered writing something profane on the inscription, but decided against it.
At the time, Cinder offered to burn the body as well. But for some reason, Mercury thought cremation would be "too good for the old prick".
So there he stood, before the grave of Marcus Black.
Mercury took out a bottle of whiskey he had bought earlier and uncapped it. The intense smell made him flinch. More flashbacks, more bad memories he'd rather forget. A boy drenched in alcohol after having a glass shattered on his skull. Always scared, always crying—the whimpering of his own voice, he could still hear.
Mercury set the whiskey bottle on top of the dirt mound.
"Bet you'd like a drink, wouldn't you, old man?" he sneered. "Come on, get up. Get up, so I can kill you one more time. It isn't fair, y'know. How many times did you beat me up, and I only got to do it the once, huh? You've gotta be kidding me with this."
Nothing but silence answered his grudge-filled words.
"It's not fair…" Mercury seethed. "IT'S NOT FAIR, YOU BASTARD! GET THE HELL UP, AND FIGHT ME!"
His eyes darted with sudden anger. The first thing he saw was the headstone, and he kicked it. Cracks in the slab branched out from the boot print, as it tipped over with a heavy thud.
Mercury panted hard with ringing in his ears. He could feel the blood rising to his head. Heart beating so loud, it was like a hundred drums playing out of rhythm.
After a moment, he let his breath slow. The crushing pressure in his head eased.
Mercury thought of destroying the grave and the remains of his old house again. A thought that came every time he visited on the anniversary of his father's death.
It would be so easy.
And probably really satisfying.
"Well…if you're not going to have a drink."
Mercury picked up the whiskey bottle and tossed it into the forest. He despised alcohol for reasons obvious.
Mercury lifted the gravestone from the ground and positioned it as it was before. He thought having his boot print dented into the stone made a fitting "inscription".
"Bye, pops. See you next year. Maybe."
Mercury stuck his hands in his pockets and made his way back to the front gate.
He saw Emerald waiting, back leaned against his old mailbox, appearing bored.
"Sorry for the wait," Mercury said to her.
"Done?"
"Done."
"Good, because I found some very interesting mail waiting here." Emerald pulled out a black envelope between her fingers. "'To the Black Family, From the Black Family'. When were you going to tell me about this?"
"Today."
"I thought Cinder got them off your back."
"If you haven't noticed, Cinder's not here right now."
Emerald scowled. "This might be a problem."
"Really? I wouldn't have thought."
Mercury took the letter. He turned it, examining it front and back.
The envelope was folded in dark parchment. Cursive white ink noted the receiver and sender. It wasn't the first one he received and it wouldn't be the last.
A family of assassins could be…persistent.
"Don't tell Yang," he muttered. "Maybe, Neo. But I think we should keep this just between you and me."
"Oh? And what if I said I wasn't going to help?"
"Are you?"
Emerald thought for a moment.
"…Cinder would probably blame me if she woke up and found you dead."
"That's just another way of saying you love me."
"Don't make me hallucinate your dad. I'll do it."
"Yeah, you love me."
"Ugh… Gross."