Chapter 16: Long Live the King

Lord Weiss Schnee the Skinner

Envelopes, six in each hand, they felt heavy, burdened by plots and gambits, each different in nature. Some hopeful, others desperate. Each set were paths into a dark mist, but each set forth towards different goals. Choices defined leadership, the sole purpose of a lord was to decide. This though, this was not her choice, if it was it would be so simple, between these two roads the action could only be based on the words of one person, a woman weaved from red and bronze. She was coming now, as well as the others.

This hilltop mill was converted into a forward command, its hearth burning bright, casting the scattered maps that decorated table tops in orange, would be the war room for what would be Weiss' definitive work, her legacy, regardless of how it came out. That lack of agency annoyed her, the heat in the room not strong enough to dispel the toxic mixture of excitement and anxiousness, less about the battle and more, more about what Thetis would choose once put under the hot coals.

When the door swung open, its wooden frame slamming against the mill door, cold air came flooding in from the outside. It was the end of fall, winter was starting in just a week or so, time had marched on so quickly, the autumn quickly approached a close and now when the season rains continued into night it was snow, the little white beads would dissipate in the morning, but as a woman whose flag was a snowflake this was a good omen.

"My Lord, I'm present," the voice was her uncle's the Warden of Vermillion, Master of the Vermillion Sentinels, leader of the rival branch of the family. He was actually Weiss' father's cousin, but to them Uncle was Uncle. An old man with short and tight cut white hair, silver lost its healthy glow with time. His beard was a maintained grey that help foster the hard stoic look he always tried to hold, he was the kind of man Weiss feared Friedrich would become. Yet she enjoyed him, if only for his earnestness.

"I thought you would be Thetis, she is usually the first one. Good to see you Uncle." As was best, he was dressed for battle, saber on his left hip and a dust powered dragoon hanging off his right, the silver armor chest plate they wore with the red snowflake cloak. Tonight would be the night for sure; final battle lines were being formed, this last meeting to decide where.

"I rushed, hoping to catch you alone my Lord."

"Very scandalous Uncle," Weiss joked, noticing that the Warden did not smile, "only a jest."

"It's that sort of behavior I mean to question, not in front of the others, but I fear you are making a mistake with this mercenary." Uncle was always said exactly what he felt, making him a rather unpopular man with Otto whom cared little for what anyone thought about anything. Weiss however, valued this, though she never admitted it, could never be so obviously aloof a lord. "I understand you want to follow your heart, believe me I do, but young love almost undid my branch of the family."

A familiar story, perhaps warped by what seemed like a millennia of retelling, but an important one for sure. Perhaps this was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Weiss, Weiss, Weiss.

With such an exhausted smile, one that brimmed with a deep selfish cleverness, the Lord of Castle White turned to her Uncle and in near whisper her answer lay in a single story, "and it made mine."

"It's five hundred years too late for this argument my Lord. For what it's worth, I wish you well." There was no life line, both of them hit the end of any argument, Uncle took his place over by his niece's side, looking over the maps, focusing on the battle. His eyes were not the pure pools of blue, instead tinted with the reddish hue formed by a family divided for centuries.

"Thanks Uncle," Weiss whispered. Hands clenching the table and envelopes, she knew this might have had an audience, but it didn't matter. The door was still open and one by one they came. Captain of the Castle White forces came in followed by Thetis, her completely out of breath, she had ran from some distant camp Weiss was sure, armed in bronze from head to toe, laced in furs for warmth. The Lord had bought it as a present, a make-up gift, and she wore it, proudly even.

Behind her was Rollo, same as always with his great hammer, tossing an apple in his hand. Another captain came, she was the Warden of Avarice and lead their forces, last was Russell, the cool headed mercenary in fur laced steel, armed with little more than a knife strapped to his black leather bracers. Only the most mobile and elite followed Weiss on this gambit on White river, the slow moving infantry and irregulars stayed with Friedrich and insured no one could take their home by surprise, as well as guarantee a fight in this town, a bottleneck that suited her tactical schemes. Their numbers were a fraction of the Faunus, but they were of superior arms and training. This was do-able.

"Gentlemen and Ladies, tonight's the night, I can feel it. Before I give you your orders, it's important I know one thing," Weiss' voice was so firm as she spoke, though she wanted to stutter, she looked up straight at Thetis, though she wanted to look elsewhere, and continued despite wanting nothing more than to speak not a word more "Thetis, there is no more stalling, one last time, I ask you, in front of gods and everyone, will you allow me to annul your marriage and be with me. Wed me or not I don't care, just be with me. Choose."

"Weiss-my lord this is rather, I don't know if I can. Can we please discuss this after?" the beautiful Mistralian pleaded, eyes betraying the truth behind them, green disks that were too scared, too indecisive, a warrior and lover's courage were unrelated.

"We've been circling this for weeks. Love me or leave me, but I will not be your plaything Thetis." Weiss could feel the room thicken with displeasure, Rollo was the only one who seemed excited to be here, lover of drama he was, the others were either annoyed, disgusted or felt awkward. Weiss needed their eyes though, the pressure trapped Thetis, would force her to decide.

"I, Weiss I love you please-"

"It's a yes or no. There is nothing in between," Weiss' voice was raised, her noble tone she used with diplomats and soldiers, the colder more declarative Weiss, less the gentle her that played with Friedrich, that held the Mistralian girl in her arms and brushed the scar she had gently with a finger. That Weiss had failed time and again, so the warrior spoke, not the lover.

"I, I can't abandoned him. He's going to be a father, I just-" Thetis didn't cry; Weiss didn't know if she could, a rock that always seemed to smile. She was so beautiful, even now as she denied Weiss, short red bangs trying so hard to shield her eyes from this mess, she was beautiful.

"Say no," Weiss demanded. There would be nothing left to the uncertain.

"No," Thetis whispered, barely loud enough over the cracking sound of the fire. It was, however, like a scream inside the halls of the young Lord's mind. It reverberated so deeply in her, and the columns of support for the heart snap, the tumbling feeling inside her stomach was proof of that.

"Thank you," was the only fair reply. In a way Weiss was set free to decide on her own now, though the decision was not anything she wanted. The papers in her hand, one set of envelopes, t the others would never see the light of day, a path denied, they were tossed gently in the fire. Burned as was the future they were designed to architect. "There is no turning back from here; our course is locked in, our fate decided. In each of these envelopes are the specifics of your orders. In general, Thetis, you and your band will hold the bridge, it's suited to your fighting styles. Hold it. Rollo, you will support them. Russell you will be our right flank, if they try sneaking cavalry over the river ride them down. Uncle, you will protect our rear with the best of your sentinels, no matter what we need to be able to retreat if I fire off a snowflake flare. Your son and the remainder of your sentinels will protect the left bank, if the Taurus are with the black cat, it's where I would use his strongest cavalry. The White Castle rifles and Avarice soldiers will hold the town and river bank, if they row soldiers across gun them down. We have plenty of artillery on the left plateau, our newest rocket emplacements on the right. So long as these remain safe we can bomb them into submission. Understood?"

No one argued, no one suggested or complained, they knew better than to do so. Most nodded, Thetis was not inclined to look at Weiss nor speak to her, she was instead fixated on her feet, hair hiding her face. Part of the young noble woman wanted her lover to die today, pay for hurting her. In the end though, she made sure in the plan she would survive. Rollo would save her, and Weiss could burn herself for her sentimentality. She would not be this plan's sacrifice.

"To your stations and remember what they did to my brother!" Weiss shouted, really just wanting them to leave. They did, all scurrying out like mice, but two whom she least wanted to speak to. Uncle quietly stood, studying his assigned orders, the pamphlet that contained the greater specifics, limiting what the left hand knew about the right, but the other did not. Thetis stayed, not looking up, not even grabbing the envelope from the table, though her orders were simple enough. She just wouldn't leave.

"Mrs. Nikos why are you here? You have orders," Weiss asked, avoiding her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I just want to talk." Thetis had a soft voice by nature, but it always had strength to it; it made Weiss think that this girl would one day be a great mother, but not for Weiss' children.

"You don't love me. You came for my money, now go do what I pay for. It wasn't to fuck me if you're confused," Weiss slipped out the last part with venom dripping from the words. She didn't mean to yell, but every second Thetis stood there, resolve faded quickly. For the good of both of them, the color in this bleak autumn turned away and walked out into the soft falling snow.

"Uncle, don't you need to go to your sentinels?"

"I'm the rear guard, I'm sure I have a few more minutes to overview your orders. You seem quite adamant we be prepared for a retreat," he said plainly, a question masked as an observation.

"It's likely. We are heavily outnumbered," Weiss half lied, hoping he was not reading too much into her plan. It was the only way.

"These rockets, Wernher's weapons, what are they?" He asked, changing subject.

"Projectiles, they fly up, fall back down, and explode with whatever dust shell you want. He thought it was a great device for eliminating out big herds of grimm. I've retrofitted them for my needs." He nodded after hearing that, though he likely did not understand Weiss only knew their power after seeing them test fire. The Atlas government ordered hundreds. They would have to wait.

"What about the deployment tubes, the prototype meant for beacon. Why are they loaded up with the rockets?" This was an accusation.

"Loaded with dust, makeshift rockets. Uncle what are you getting at?"

"Weiss, don't do this. Be my niece and not my Lord for one second."

"In your envelope, there is a letter to Friedrich, please promise me it gets to him. You're dismissed."

"Good luck. You have my respect Weiss, and my son's." Thetis had left, soon uncle followed, bathed in orange light, it was dimming, the fire dying, the plan was beginning.


The lights of both sides smeared the banks of the White River in a swarm of torch light and lamps for as far as anyone could see. Night battles were like that, both sides trying to see anything in the mist of night, worsened by the sprinkling snow drops that were adding a cutting chill onto everything, tormenting everyone and turning the sky a grey pitch. The battle started with a charge. The Faunus lion known as the Fang charged the bridge with his best, clashing with Thetis' band of Mistralian elite. Both sides fought hard, but neither made ground and quickly pulled back to reform. In the meantime the river glowed with life as make shift rafts began to pull off the Faunus held bank towards the town. Gunfire shredded them, an artillery shell alone tore boats asunder, flaming bits of wood and bodies into the air.

It was those cannons that supplied the real vibrant sort of life to this dreary battle. They burst against the earth in glowing red flames, flashes of blue ice from frost hells, torrents of lightning from the dust infused bolts that illuminated swarms of Faunus along the beach. They had their own shells to returned, standard force dust, they cracked against the plateaus and buildings, harassing the dug in fighters and the worst came from the blimp above. One had blown apart the mill, only a few feet from where Weiss had observed the early moments of her battle. It crumbled behind her, force rattling her teeth as it crumbled, further burning the ash of what could have been. It was easy to understand why the King of Atlas had A King's Final And Finest Argument, engraved on every artillery piece in the royal army.

The real fight had yet to start, rockets not unleashed, not the right time. A dud was propelled every few seconds to get the aim, but even then she held it. The Faunus forces needed to move up, the line between the false King's camp and the river bank needed to be packed, packed with their best. It was their kill-zone. The reckoning.

Soon enough it was time. Between the mill's crumbling and the rockets' readying, Thetis was attacked by this chief Murray again, this time with higher losses for both sides though that meant less to the Faunus than to her. Thetis remained unharmed according to her report. Weiss' heart betrayed her and cried internally from joy. Russell identified human attackers, but only scattered snipers he had to bunker down for. Weiss' cousin, the wardens son, claimed little Taurus presence on his flank, but remained in case it was a trick. Weiss hoped it wasn't, that flank was a natural weak point for her defense. The river was packed with more fighters than they had guns to fire, but the rapids delayed the rafts for a moment. So far things held, but it was fragile stability and getting worse, something had to break them before it. The Lord of White Castle knew now was the time.

When the first rocket fired, it streamed into the air with red streaks of flame following as it spread its way into the sky, deep into the night air, like nothing ever seen before, it was a sight unlike the hellstorm of traditional artillery. A twisting fire dart that seemed innocent even; a firework. Then burst apart in air, splitting into separate shells that flung into the earth with such a shocking force, the wave of sound and energy could shatter those without the art of Aura.

That was the first, one bust and near a hundred more were, bolts of fire, ice, lightning, force, all manner of hell and fury that shattered with great light, a wave of destruction that reaped a path of flame down the line. A knife of rockets that split this Faunus force down the center, striking its heart, far longer ranged than any cannon, cracking the earth in one volley, frosting it in another, torching it the third, the blaze bring light to this faunus army, bodies burned and the world could see them, there was no hiding in the dark for these animals.

The final volley, it brought nothing. Merely prototypes, these 'improvised weapons' originally meant to deliver supplies to Beacon students. They crashed into the now craters that made up the former Faunus center line, none exploded, all smokes, these massive canisters, duds in the eyes of the artillery commanders that must have watched as swafts of flame spread through the center. These containers brought with them no brimstone or blizzards, but what they would undoubtedly remember as the devil.

It brought them their reckoning. It brought them Weiss.

Smoke had not cleared by the time she escaped her canister, the air was thick with ash and snow. Heat was all around as those who were not killed in the volleys moaned, their ruined bodies scattered about. Many survived, at least partly. Reduced to frightened animals looking for sense and limbs in this field of fire.

One such fool stumbled into the smoke pulsing off Weiss' supply drop.

"Hello there," she whispered, two of her favorite revolving rifle swords in hand, their long barrels ending at the rapier like blade point, especially around her special semblance. The faunus man, had but a moment to turn around before the round entered his chest, Weiss' eyes lit up red, and his body too burst apart into the flames of dust in his chest. More noticed her after that, more to meet their ruin by Gänseblümchen and Tulpe, their names etched into their twin barrels. The few who could stand up to her did not last a moment, their bodies burst like flares to the real target. A monster she needed to trap in this field of flames and fallen men. As the snow drifted down, she could hear it, the devil's roar. The wolf was coming.

And it did.

The mass of the famed wolf of Fort Castle came to view charging at her, this breathing creature of fused black iron, the symbol of her animal carved into the blue accents, helmet shaped after the head of a snarling cousin of hers. There was only a split second before seeing her, this being running on all fours, tower shield slung over her back, sword, near the size of Weiss herself, lodged in the beasts teeth, came too close simply to be shot down like a wild dog. Monster pounced up into a twirl, dropping the sword into both of her hands; a woman impossibly sized slamming down with all the force of a cannon ball.

Weiss did not block, such a move was for an idiot; she kicked back, the great sword peeling the air around her as it crashed into the earth. One could feel the monster land, and Weiss knew why the world suddenly spoke of this Faunus ace. Didn't matter, Weiss was the Queen of knights, and she was an animal. This match was over.

While the beast known as Azura roared, dragging her sword around, cutting open Remnant without a care, she spun the blade for another strike, losing none of her body's momentum. Weiss did not step back but ducked, aiming Tulpe up to fire point blank.

Yet the monster, its body moved to dodge, helmet taking the round and flying off, warping as her semblance permanently altered its facade almost to match its master. Weiss could see her face now, this wolf, and its scarred glory was terrifying to any weaker person, those amber eyes, they burned hotter than any flying rocket, so hot it would burn into your memory forever. She was not afraid of Weiss' even as the helmet burst behind her. Azura swung again, there was no escaping the length of that weapon with a leap. Instead desperation.

Her other rifle free and pointed to the floor she fired, the white force dust round busting apart the floor and sending them both flying with a wave of energy. Weiss, twirled herself landing in mud, and despite the meters of space between them, Azura was charging again shield up and sword prepared to launch off the shoulder it rested on. Weiss opened fire, her rounds spreading as they lodged themselves in her tower shield, the glyphs that formed enveloping its ancient face and splitting it apart into vibrant shades of blue ice, melting red shards, and all manner of particles. Yet the wolf still charged. Unbound and unwilling to stop. Weiss jumped out the way, the sword slamming down right in front of her, the rune glowing, she still felt the emanating energy beating into Weiss and draining her aura. This sword cut through hunters, and she could feel it.

They continued their dance, Weiss would fire shots and Azura would swing with her sword like one cursed with a berserking form of madness. It was the most heightened fight in all the years Weiss had lived, not even the duels with Thetis that first set her heart aflame, this was different. It was primordial. She wondered if this was the feeling hunters and huntresses felt fighting their final grimm, knowing anything could dislodge either of them from the living world. She was so sad to put an end to it.

Using the floor firing trick again, knowing it would separate them just enough, she pulled back the proper uniformed sleeve of hers to see the radio wire device Wernher had made. It was one switch, only needed one, there was no turning around, only when to hit it. Soon others would come, and despite how much she longed to be the knight that put Azura Thrym, the big bad wolf, down, she was needed elsewhere. The trap was laid. It was time to pull it. A flip of a switch and the wolf charged and the final volley, the duds, activated.

It started with smoke, but more accurately steam. Clouds of the warm sticky air burst from every container, near a hundred rockets poured out. In that mist the berserking monster swung around madly, she was chasing it now, the blue eyes that hid in the grey mist of that cold night. How they must have haunted her as she could see it, see it almost glow. In truth they did glow, bright blue lights, the deep shine of unnatural energy. A roar from the mist, and where the blue eyes ended, the Schnee ingenuity emerged. Massive, its gears and metal body shifting its clockwork limbs as it slammed an axe so hard against Azura's sword her body was tossed back, sliding against the mud and muck, stopping only to see their reckoning. Clockwork end, the river bank, all the way to the camp, all of was roaring at once, creaking as the animatronic drones stood, taller in size to three mean, heads like metal skulls, internal fires glowing, some blue some red, some royal purple and deep greens. They were endless, they were fury and as the first charged her, as its axe slammed down, and by narrowest margins, the wolf escaped, even as she lodged her sword into the gears and body of her opposition, ninety nine more stood tall. One tallest of the lot, spear in hand as Weiss climbed on it. She was ready, ready to climb toward the heart of the camp; she was coming for him, for the king. The prototype, the iron hunter, tossed its spear. Whatever hope Azura had of stopping her was gone. Each of these mechanical monsters was a hunter onto itself. In the heart of this Faunus armor, its center, now a field of heroes.

When she landed, the spear piercing the earth, she hopped onto her foot steady, she had time to reload her canisters as nothing was beside her aside carnage and fire. The royal guard so desperately fighting back as these massive, albeit imperfect creatures crush them down. Above ash and snow fell as the Gatling gun equipped models began shooting down the airship, the proud black lotus and crown burst into flames, though the wolf remained as it dropped from the sky.

Wernher's death had been the death of them, his creations, though meant to kill grimm, meant to save the world, would drown them in snow and as the last breath tore at their lungs, as they feed their bodies to Remnant, the depth of their arrogance would be made known. Schnee blood was not for them to take and as Weiss fired her flare, the bright light speeding upwards into the sky, a firework snowflake in the heart of the faunus horde, the retreat was not sounded in defeat, it was the bait being let go.

Charles was here, and for the murder of Werner, for the murder of Wilhem, for the murder of Otto, for the murder of all the hopes and dreams she had, Weiss would hang his bloody corpse from the fucking wreckage of this town.


The King

"Get down Nimh!" Charles called out to one of the few royal guards that survived the initial shelling. The long range rocket batteries, though they had been seen in minor forms before, had never been used in such a precise and intense shelling. The campsite placed opposite the left plateau was caught dead center by the blast. All the supplies and tents were torched and though many came to save those who survived and the quickly prepared bunker had saved Charles and his main aides, nothing prepared them for what was contained in the duds. Mechanical creatures, like skeletons, more advanced than spider tanks and unmanned were emerging from everywhere. They wiped out most before they could even fathom what was happening, even experienced hunters were crushed by the might of these skeleton clockwork giants. Now he could see just Nimh that sat prepared to fight, her fox ears torched by the rocket flames. Others groaned dying on the floor and some more were sent off to find help, the rest had fallen in a blink.

Charles could do little but dent them, relying on a simple trick. He sent a shadow copy of himself running right onto the chest of the main gunner model, its partner, a fatter beast holding an axe, spun around bashed the shadow, cleaving into the other machine as well, they were stupid as it were, and in that regard Charles cleverness paid off. It was do-able; he could win.

"I got this!" Nimh shouted firing her crossbow, tip strapped to dust dynamite. The new royal guard was a crack show with that bow and the dynamite lodged itself into the false neck of the machine, a patch of iron and gears. When it went off) the head and neck burst apart, and though not dead it stood motionless, unable to see targets, the machine simply, stopped.

"That's all of them for no-" time slowed, and Charles looked on, hidden behind a turned over cart as Nimh's shoulder took a stray bullet. Non-lethal, but a light shined, a glyph spread across her body, symbols dancing a bright blue across her face, a brilliant array that he had never seen before. Then, at the most intense and beautiful, as Nimh's tears of pain barely managed to form, her body burst violently, the half of her torso, most of her head ruptured in blue ice, the type only formed by dust. Blood dripped everywhere, even on to Charles' black leather armor, he could feel it's warmth on his ears and watched at the leftovers, no true body, dropped onto the ground, dead forever.

"Charles, you bastard animal! Face me! Come out from behind there!" Charles wanted to move, needed to change spots. Clones, clones could go in every direction, and he would move as soon as one the voice, whomever she was, shot. Even that was ruined, flares of light, so many, were tossed around him and his shadow dwindled to nothing, a mere figment, no amount of aura could summon his image. He was dead. "Don't think I don't know your trick, I've come to kill you murderer! Fight me!"

His chest pounded to the point of pain, lungs seemed to stop, the ice of the air seeped into his mind and he could not close his eyes. He wanted to scream, wanted someone now, he needed an Azura, needed a shadow, needed an old man with a pickaxe. He needed to be saved. Stop, he wanted to scream, please stop.

No stop, no stop!

A horrible memory, the truest failure. Inaction that tormented his mind and the voice that wanted to scream stop was no longer his. Lucia was begging, begging the world to stop and he would not move. Centuries old fear turned to anger, so much hate, he would not die like cattle, he would not watch her crawl from the alley, watch her hang from the ceiling, he couldn't do it. He couldn't. It was never about justice, it didn't motivate him to murder his first guard, it did not lead him to catching Guido, it did not give him the strength to capture princes, to destroy armies, build nations, let innocent men be murdered. Rage did it, rage against the dying of the light, rage against the downing of his kin. Rage against a world that would not let him live, not let him see Lucia smile ever again, one that forced Azura to fight since she was just a fucking little girl, rage against the monsters that made him quake in the dark. There were no moral grounds, there was nothing, but rage against death. Refusal. He would win, there was no other choice, rage against the dying of the light. In tears he knew how Azura crushed so many lives.

He roared, for what roar a king like him could do, the small man he was could no longer live in this place, a gentler world Charles was robbed from him as it was for all of them. Charles, charged as a king of the Faunus, sword raised, but not blindly. Faunus were only half animal. He grabbed a flare, though it burned him, and threw it with everything he had, it's searing light blinded the woman who was so adamant about killing him, the lord of White Castle herself, Weiss Schnee. Forced to smack the flare out of the air with one rifle-sword to be able to see enough to shout it provided nary any more dark than a hot summer day but it was enough, a clone formed just a little ahead of him, its shadow bursting into lighting, the round that struck it hit close enough to leave burns on Charles, but also so close that a lightning bolt struck the barrel of her gun as well, the force knocking it out of her hands. They both were down to one weapon, and Charles went for what he knew, the basic slash of a sword. Weiss was a knight trained from birth, there was no beating her in a sword fight, the saber of her rifle form blocked and disarmed, a swift motion that sent the black sword shroud flying. He to her eyes was without a weapon, she would shoot or stab him, it didn't matter, but she paid no mind to the chain that connected his hand to the shroud.

She had no idea what he could do.

It twisted into a sickle with but a pull, the mechanisms automatic, the blade reshaped without Weiss ever noticing, she raised her gun, pulled back the hammer and charles pulled with all his might.

Had it not been for a glint, perhaps a tell on his face or the reflection of her sword, the sickle would have dislodged her head from her body, but she was too skilled for that. With a snap she ducked and the shroud snagged on her weapon, and with the strength of every shitty memory, of every day that being a faunus felt like being dead, he pulled it loose from her hands, no gun meant no semblance. All advantages were on him. He flipped it back to sword and struck, but Weiss was quick, those blue devil eyes watched his hand and in one swift move she gripped his wrist with far more strength than he had in both his arms. She swung with her other arm and Charles let his inner beast take over, taking the strike he bit down right on the wrist, teeth sinking in as deep as he could, not damaging, but enough to give him a chance, his free hand grabbed his knife, thin little skinning blade, and put it right into her shoulder.

Weiss screamed, but never let up the strength, beginning to overpower him, a swift kick that knocked the air out of him was delivered right to the sides by her left leg. Involuntarily he released his jaw and freed her to do one trick he hadn't even considered, grasping just a few loose rounds from her pocket she tossed them, her semblance lighting up the thin air between them and blinded him for just a moment, free she bolted, right for her gun. Charles switched the shroud to the fire dust launcher and pulled the trigger wildly. It's shots struck around her long before he could see, the scream she made said one hit her, but as sight returned to him, he could see her, fire still torching her shoulder, aiming. Both had guns, both were aimed, all that mattered was who pulled the trigger as the world around them dissipated, as snow fell to the ground, Charles fired first.

She never even managed to pull the trigger.

She was laughing to hard.

Charles was on fire.

Charles was burning.

The gun burst from the magazine, the hot chunks of fire dust scorched into the right side of his body and all he could do was scream as he fell. There wasn't shroud anymore, wasn't even a fight, there was just the fire as it burned, burned so bad. He was crying now, so much pain. It hurt.

"Wernher got you from the fucking grave!" Charles couldn't think. The name didn't matter, as he crawled around on them mud, he needed to put it out.

"Wilhelm never had the gun fixed?! We had the plans and everything, but he never bothered! I can't believe it, that bastard must have wanted to let the prince have an accident! They both got you!" She laughed. Charles couldn't think long enough to understand. The fire was gone now, but his body still hurt so bad. He wanted Azura, wanted Lucia, wanted his mother. Where was everyone, where was he, it hurt.

"Turn around murderer!" Charles was kicked, but the pain from the burns was too intense, he could smell it now, it smelt so wretched. He could feel the pain making him want to throw up. Why wasn't he?

"No!" Did he scream that? He couldn't think, a horrible pain struck his shoulder, eyes opened to Weiss on top of him. He knew it was her sword, it pinned his good arm. He could not move. The pain was intense, but he could remember, this was a battle, this was dying.

"You ruined my life, you killed my family, you are an animal!" Weiss pulled the skinning knife from her shoulder, a thin sharp place, meant for taking the hide off a caribou, but now she held it instead, it hurt. "You monster!" She was laughing, she was crying, she was cutting. First the face, the burns dulled him so bad he did not feel it till the brisk air swept over his exposed wound.

"Long live the King eh? There is no king here, only animals and me!" The blade spread over his neck, and warmth poured out, suddenly he was cold, and the steam and heat from his body was leaving him, as was the pain, as was his mind. Things slowed down. Lucia, Maledetta, Azura...he had children, or would?

"Azura please...help," he did not know if he whispered it or not, though he knew he tried. His vision became so dark, Weiss was all there was, her laughing, her crying, nothing stopped it, even when he could see an arrow strike her shoulder. Then came the dark.

*** Charles the Black Cat, named after The Bonnie Prince Charlie, or Prince Charles, leader of the second Jacobite rebellion, his overconfidence in the French allies and under confidence in the commanders of his Scottish-kin, as well as drinking ended his hopes of the British throne.

Thank you for reading so far, this chapter is one I had planned for a long time, and got me a little emotional writing, I hope it did the same to you in the best of ways. The fights are a little ehh and short, but I'm not a great fight choreographer

Wanna say thanks again to Kuri for giving me permission to pseudo-canonize WRoV into the Vale series, totally based off long shot predictions for that series, but it's amazing check it out and to TCR for editing. If this comes out before Choice, it's finished, just being edited.