The next chapter still needs a little longer in the oven, so here's a short interlude from Tyrian's POV. Sorry for the delay, but I haven't had the time to properly plan things out for this next arc and I don't want to rush things, so here's something to tide everyone over :)

Tyrian Callows opened his eyes and smiled. The waves underneath him had been a steady presence in his mind as he slumbered. It reminded him of the Castle, and the steady watchful gaze of Her Grace over the entire realm. His excitement peaked briefly as his thoughts turned to Her; how the world came to a standstill around him as Her Grace's presence threatened to overwhelm him—

He bit his lip hard enough to bleed and he forced himself to relax. He couldn't to afford to lose himself; Her Grace specifically requested this mission be completed over all else on his plate and he refused to fail Her. Losing himself to his bloodlust and compromising his anonymity was not an option.

He huffed and stretched his arms high above, letting his muscles work through the stiffness they had accumulated on his voyage. The assignment her Grace had given him was to find and capture a little girl. One Ruby Rose, a rather shy brat from what his sparse details about her were, lived with an older sister and their father. The other girl wouldn't be a problem, but their father was a Huntsmen. One without a team, thankfully, but it complicated things.

A direct assault on the house would be impossible with the Huntsman sniffing around, so he would have to improvise. Another complication: Patch was an island, a rather large one perhaps, but still an island. It would make any sort of rapid escape almost impossible without being detected. He would either have to stowaway on another ship with a prisoner in tow or utilize the Grimm.

The Gift her Highness had bestowed upon him made it a simple task to temporarily control the Grimm in the area and with it he could sense a few minor aquatic Grimm not far from the shores of the island. He could make do with that. Improvisation was his speciality after all.

He cackled slightly and peaked out the small hole that shone light into the cramped compartment he had stowed away in. It was dark out, the shattered moon shone brightly— not a good omen for his excursion, yet he would have to make do. Her Grace would not permit failure, not at least from the weather of all things.

A distraction then? Nothing too flashy— perish the thought of getting caught before he completed his mission! He shuddered in disgust. He would have to make do with something…subtle. Ugh, how he hated that word! It went against everything he should do— spread the word of his Goddess and proclaim Her glory to the rest of Remnant! Alas, he would have to make do. The thought of how his Goddess would reward him was all the motivation he needed to continue slinking through the cargo hold.

As he approached the lone entrance, he heard a muffled shuffling from the other side. He paused and listened.

"—that's what I said! The last time I saw that stupid nicknack of yours was in the on the upper deck, Patty!" A muffled voice sounded through the door.

"I know, Nick! I just want to be sure! Besides, we can tell the captain we were just checking the, uh, itin, Itentra, Iten—"

"Itinerary, Patty."

"Yeah, that! He won't suspect we was slacking at all!"

Tyrian smiled, a simple plan coming together in his mind as he slunk over the side of the door and waited. After a few long seconds, he heard the jingle of keys, and his smile grew wider. The door opened with a long creak, the wood rotted and treated harshly by the elements and the sailors of the ship.

After a hesitant step, and the bickering of the two sailors, they both entered into the small cargo hold where he had made his refuge. There was little in the way of light, save for the few holes that let in the moonlight. The darkness was ever-present and all encompassing— just how he liked it.

Tyrian let the two men enter, and quietly approached the one who held the keys— a rather fat man with far too much fear wafting off his body to be healthy for his over-inflated heart— and waited until he was distracted by bickering with the other man— a scrawny thing with perhaps more bones than actual meat— before swiping them off of his belt. The two men were so absorbed with their bickering that they didn't even notice.

The ship creaked and the bigger man froze.

"N-Nick, what was t-that?" He stuttered out, his breathing a complete mess. Tyrian spotted a dozen different ways he could dispatch the lump of meat in front of him but resisted the urge. Perhaps he could use the two of them?

"I, uh, I dunno Patty Wack. Probably just the ship. You know how old this thing is, right?" The lanky man said with a forced calm, yet unlike the other man he was only temporarily startled. He would have to change that.

Tyrian nudged a crate over with his tail and made sure most of his body was in the shadows. The crate fell with a crash and both men jumped around, their fear palpable.

"N-Nick…" The larger man eked out.

"I know, Patty. Probably just a rat or something."

Tyrian scraped his gauntlets along the the wooden boards of the ship as he slunk around the edges of the two men's vision. Both men tried to find the source of the noise. The lanky man called out into the darkness.

"I-I know you're there, whoever you are. Show yourself!" He said with false bravado. The larger man next to him didn't even try. He merely kept whimpering, like he wasn't a man and more of an animal half his size. Tyrian sneered at them.

Absolutely pathetic.

Silenced reigned for what most likely felt like eons for the two rats masquerading as men near him but was only a single minute. With no response and no other noises coming from him, the two men sighed in relief. Truly, there were idiots in every profession.

"N-Nick, you s-said this ship was o-old, right?" The larger thing asked with a quiver. "Then, isn't there a chance that…i-it's haunted?" He nearly stole his own breath away. The idiot.

Tyrian wanted nothing more than to just slaughter these two pathetic excuses of humanity but managed to restrain himself. Since they were dumber than bricks, he could use them.

"That's crazy, Patty!" The skinny man said, his fear evident in the way he shook like a leaf in the middle of a storm. "Ghosts don't exist!" Tyrian's tail twitched and he whistled. It was only a single note, but it cut through the silence of the hold straight into the hearts of the men near him.

They both jumped at the sound. "Nick! W-We need to g-get out!" The larger man said his mind overcoming with panic. The skinnier man, even if terrified, had some semblance of restraint.

"Stop panicking, Patty! Ghosts don't exist. It's probably the wind or something coming through a crack in the ship. It's an old ship, remember?" He said, his shaking worse than earlier. Tyrian chose that moment to break him of the notion that he had any control of the situation.

Tyrian let out a deep, rumbling laugh.

The two men shrieked like banshee's and swung the lantern around like a weapon. They started yelling and panicking. Tyrian chose that moment to make his exit, before the two of them could regain their wits and make for the exit.

"Patty, l-let's go! Quickly!"

Tyrian frowned and knocked over another pile of boxes, directly in the path of the men and they stumbled and fell on top of each other. His frown morphed into a scowl. The two before him could barely stand up on their own two legs and had the coordination of a toddler.

He moved quickly, with more than enough time to spare to beat the idiots tailing him to the door. He let out another deep chuckle and, with his tail, slammed the door shut. He heard the two idiots pounding on the door, even as he locked it. The racket they were making would be a suitable distraction, especially when enough time passed where their other crew mates would start looking for the two imbeciles.

He did leave them one parting gift, however.

"Suffer." He whispered to the two idiots, and they screamed even louder than before, his ears wincing from the volume.

He cackled at their panic, his temporary pain more than worth it to watch to idiots suffer from their own weak-mindedness. Fear truly was his greatest weapon, beyond the swords and guns Huntsmen thought they had the exclusive privilege to.

As he glided through the shadowed hallways of the ship, he noticed he could hear their cries partly through the wood. He smiled. Perhaps the Grimm would even catch wind? He cackled at the thought.

Truly, he didn't need those two specifically for a distraction. He could have simply waited until the two men had passed and quietly left them unmolested. He grinned and his scorpion tail wavered back and forth.

But where was the fun in that?

Tyrian stalked through the early morning streets, the dawn light filtering in through the sparse thicket of trees that surrounded the small village of Patch. A village it was, besides being the most populous settlement outside of Vale, its defenses were rather lacking. It was a coastal village, with nearly half of its border with the sea, and the other half a tall stone wall that had been there since the village had been founded.

All-in-all, a rather trivial affair to infiltrate. Due to the heavy amount of trade, foreigners didn't stand out too much; less so than any other village outside of Vale at the least. The Ferry that ran between Vale proper and Patch made sure there was a steady stream of tourists and merchants going to and from the island.

Yet, the image of a peaceful village was undercut by the sheer number of Huntsmen present within its walls. He counted at least two full teams' worth at a casual glance, and that was only the ones on patrol. He supposed it made sense due to one of their little academies residing on the island, but it still vexed him. He would have to be far more discrete than he would have preferred or had been expecting to be.

He silenced the growl that nearly escaped his throat— he would have to search the whole island by hand for the girl and he couldn't gather any information without immediately casting suspicion upon him and why he was there.

Before he could ponder the problem further, a flash of red appeared in his vision and he stumbled forward, barely able to keep himself from falling face first into the street. He cursed and grabbed the nearest wall. Had he been found out? Was that an attack?

He looked around wildly, but no-one was paying too much attention to him. He spied a few people glancing curiously in his direction, but they simply kept to themselves and went on with their lives.

Not an attack from someone he could see, then. Before he could compose himself, images flashed through his head—

—He saw a child, his target, going through the woods in a haze before she suddenly snapped out of it and gasped. He saw a different child, sprinting through the same woods, panic in their expression and willpower in their gaze as their red eyes glowed. He saw another image, one of a simple wooden house surrounded by woods and two children sitting on a porch, laughing—

The images faded from his mind, and he let out a gasp. That hadn't been an attack. That…That had been a gift! The only conclusion he could come to for such a strange phenomenon was that his Goddess had blessed him with knowledge! He grasped his head and let out a cackle in delight, destroying the peaceful silence that had descended on the small village with his outburst.

He was looking in the wrong place, the woods would hold the target he sought! It made sense for a Huntsman to set up his house in the wilderness; a deterrent, a protector and even training all in one! Especially for this abysmal place they called a settlement. He had been looking for a house within the settlement itself, how could he have been so careless!

Before Tyrian could descend into thoughts of how pitiful and useless, he was without Her Grace; he scrambled out of the fetal position he had fallen into and proceeded further into the alleyway. He couldn't double back after the commotion he just caused. Too many curious eyes watching. He approached a short wall and scampered over it, landing silently on the other side. He dusted off his overcoat and walked through the exit and into the street.

A sizable morning crowd had formed now that the sun had peaked above the horizon, bathing the village in its glow. Tyrian normally didn't care for the sun; it made his work far harder than it needed to be and it was the opposite of his Goddess' splendor, yet in that moment, he couldn't help but bask in its glow.

He was filled to the brim with excitement about what those visions meant for the future— his Goddess had reached a breakthrough in Her magic! Once his assignment was completed, he would return to her side and bask in Her praise and in turn, he would ask for his next task. The vision his Goddess had for the world moved closer and closer to fruition and with future knowledge outside of the lamp at their side, victory was near!

Another flash of red and a different vision appeared before his eyes; a vision with him stalking through the forests, tracing a path only he could see through the underbrush and the scattered trails of woods. He steadily kept forward until the target became clear— the house where his targets resided.

His malevolent grin spread from ear to ear.

"Oh, I absolutely cannot wait to see that future! What a beautiful bloody dawn it will be for this wretched world!" He spoke quietly, almost a prayer in his reverence.

His tail quivered in excitement, anxious to be let free and tear apart everyone in his path. In Her path to Victory. In the world bathed in blood he yearned to see.

His first target came to his mind once again, and his malevolent grin became manic in its intensity.

"You shall make a beautiful first shot, my little Rose, when I deliver your body to Her Grace's presence, and she turns you into a creature that will bring us to victory! Your sacrifice will be the first shot in this final war to Conquer!" He cackled as he sped through the town, impatient to begin the true hunt. "I cannot wait to watch it all burn!"

Take care, and as always, Critiques and Comments are welcome as long as they are constructive!

P.S. Texas is killing me rn, 0/10 weather would not recommend.