Next Update: Monday, April 23rd.
Chapter 6
(Time: Day two, of the cracked lunar year.
Location: The wilds of Mistral.)
As a human woman, drumming and chanting of nearby Faunus villages sometimes came as a surprise. She didn't pay it much attention, but she also knew that those drums were something that many people hated to hear. Humans often found the act animalistic, and there was no question as to why. Even so, those far away sounds rolled like rumbling thunder throughout the wilderness.
The faint and distant noise was of little consequence to a traveler such as herself. After all, people would look down their noses at bandits, thinking them them to be little more than the filth of the human race…never mind what humans thought of Faunus bandits.
The slurs were to numerous and vitriolic to even think of, let alone speak out loud.
If there was anything Raven Branwen hated more than the slums of the inner cities, it was the people who held immense power in the Kingdoms. The snooty upper-class, signing death warrants for anyone idiotic enough to fall prey to the whimsical ideals of honor and bravery. Such things were meant to get a person killed. There was no honor among men who cast the lives of others away. Especially not those that continued to do so, all while making sure they they sat in the limelight reaping the rewards.
Those were the types she hated the most. The men and women who stood as a public face to the masses. She hated the masses too, since they were complacent enough to follow their corrupt leaders.
Raven knew better.
She had learned never to follow orders blind. Truth's barbaric murmurings had given her the perspective that others didn't have. It gave her the ability to shun the world that twisted the fates of others with false smiles and empty promises. The thin veneer that everyone could achieve greatness only promised that no one would. That greatness was something else. Achieved by luck, and not effort. By corruption, and not honor. Greed, and not bravery.
No, the men who controlled the lives of countless people were cowards. It was as simple as that. Raven Branwen stood by that observation. She would live and breathe that belief, until she took it to her grave.
With another mission done, she found another reason to drive herself to drink. She had to make the call, but she hated dealing with the man on the other end. Even seeing his name splayed across the screen of her scroll made her angry. Still she pushed the name, the ringing carrying on for a few moments before he picked up.
"It's been completed, as you've requested." The she said, her tone like battery acid.
"You didn't run into any trouble?" He asked that every single time, as if he doubted her.
She grit her teeth, offering a simple answer. "No. Nothing."
There was a chuckle and a pause, murmuring in the background indicated he wasn't alone. Then after a moment, he asked the very same question again. "Are you completely sure?"
"It was just a few Grimm, have a little more faith in me than that." She grumbled, as she heard the sound of a lighter and the deep inhale of a fine cigar. Thick with tobacco, full bodied, his favorite. She swore, she could recall the smell. A mix of spice only native to the tobacco fields of Vale. "Is my payment ready?"
"Whenever you come to retrieve it." The man spoke uncaringly. "Come to the usual place."
She blinked, pausing to take in the pure idiocy she heard. It had to have been a mistake on his behalf, but deep down she knew it was only bravado. She glared at nothing, and yet, at everything. Knowing that the man's smugness would have wilted in that very instant if he could have seen her face. "That wasn't the agreement, and you know it."
"Hey cut me some slack."
"You pay for services rendered. Or, if you'd rather, I could just cut your throat out." It wasn't an earnest offer, not really. Killing him wasn't worth the time or the headache. Even so, the thought served to be amusing. "God knows there's probably a bounty out on you somewhere."
"Hey, play nice now." Roman said, the amusement still in his voice. "I went to a lot of trouble for you."
"I only asked for a few vials of premium dust. That's not hard to come by in your particular market. Don't be an ass."
"Now, now, now, it isn't just dust. It's unmarked dust, completely off the books, just for you. I personally made sure it was the highest quality. You should be willing to make this easier on me, considering the amount you ordered. Why not just come to Vale and get it yourself."
"Don't screw with me." The woman murmured lowly. Heat dragging from her voice, tinting her words in vitriolic rage. "Listen up, if you can't supply what was agreed upon, you're useless to me. We have a deal in place, and I suggest you uphold it."
"Premium dust costs more than a few Grimm. Especially if you want me to deliver it by hand."
"Such a high quality dust is what allows me to use my weapon proficiently." She pointed out.
"That's not my problem." A muted thump indicated he may have slapped his hand on his desk.
"Oh, but it is." She laughed darkly, already feeling the hypocrisy of his words sinking into her. "You live a comfortable life, Torchwick. You dance between the shadows and high society. It's a good thing you have going, but we both know the truth. You live on dirty money. Covered in the blood of others. People are just tools to you, a means to an end, nothing more."
The spluttering cough fell over the line, likely puffs of smoke violently clouding around him. "I'm…I'm not that bad." He wheezed. "I help you, don't I?"
"You like to think you do." She replied dryly. "Honestly, sometimes I think you're more of a headache than your worth."
"And yet, here you all, still doing business with me."
"Only insofar as you prove yourself worthwhile." Raven retorted. "You're weak, Roman. If you came face to face with a real Grimm, you'd piss yourself. You wouldn't even stand a chance. Your place is behind the safety of Vale's walls, but that will only protect you for so long. It wouldn't protect you from me in the slightest."
"Those are pretty big words for an outcast."
"They are, but, I'm not lying. If you want to test me, go ahead." She said, rubbing her eyes, nipping on her inner cheek to keep from just barking obscenities. "If you want to keep your reputation as squeaky clean as everyone thinks it is, then you'll give me the dust I want. Send one of your goons in your place, I don't care. Just uphold your end of the bargain."
"Why should I?"
"That's how our agreement works. It's symbiotic, don't be a fool. You can't afford to lose my cooperation."
"The agreement was only temporary. You can't keep coming to me about this kind of thing you know. One day you'll blow my cover, then the jig will be up."
"There is no jig." The woman groused. "You'll give me the dust I want, or I'll find someone who will. Don't make yourself expendable to me, or I won't cover your sorry ass next time you go bragging to some uppity businessmen with more money than sense. You wouldn't want to lose your position as a socialite among Vale's finest, now would you?"
They both knew the answer to that, and with a long suffering sigh, Roman Torchwick relented. "Alright, chickadee, chill out. I'll get the dust to you as I promised. It just might take a little time."
"Get it done." Three simple words, dripping in malice. They were all the woman said before she hung up, closing her scroll with more force than she intended.
She grabbed her sword and stabbed into the ground. Her eyes focused ahead of her, gazing out into the lowlands. The impaled Ursa she had just slain dissipated into nothingness, not that she cared one way or the other. It could have died slowly suffering for all she cared. Atop her perch upon the hilltop, she felt strangely reminiscent of a similar view she knew almost too well.
The memory was perfect. Engrained there, deep in the back of her mind. She doubted it would ever go away. It was a coveted recollection, something very personal. She would even go so far as to call it profound.
Worth more than any bounty, no matter how bold the offer.
There were a few differences between this hillside and the one she used to know. The waterfall at her side didn't exist back at that old place. The air was more humid here, the trees were larger. There was more moss and swampland, the scent obvious even to her human nose. Her red eyes lingered for a moment longer, before she dismissed the sentimental remembrance outright.
Bygone memories did nothing for her now.
No, they were merely afterthoughts.
Padding over to the quickly flowing river, she stood at the edge of it. Peeling off her boots and socks, her feet squishing into the spongy moss. In the water's reflection, she could examine her own image. The blood covering her from head to toe. Her mostly red and black outfit would need to be washed and repaired before she could ever hope to step foot anywhere near civilization.
Although she was considered a bandit, her life was more complicated than that. She lived among them, brethren in blood and in bone. She was even spat upon due to her somewhat questionable ways. Still, she wasn't only a bandit. she was a huntress. Slaying Grimm was what took up most of her time these days. The large and easily protected cities might have despised her, but the villages always welcomed her with open arms.
Her willingness to spill the blood of marauders and Grimm alike, coupled with her skill in doing so, made her a valuable comrade to them. She wasn't exactly personable. Thankfully, the villages never asked her to be.
Regardless, looking like she did was no way to keep that carefully attained trust and respect. There was only one thing to do.
She shivered as she undressed, dunking her clothes in the water to scrub them as clean as she could make them. Then she hung them on a low lying branch, setting a fire nearby, before dipping herself into the shallow area of the rushing water. Then she went to work scrubbing herself clean as well. Dried blood and ash flowed freely from her deep black tresses, dirtying the water. She didn't pay any mind to it, as the grime got swept away down the long waterfall and into the pools below.
She was used to such things by now. For a sinner such as herself, it was a deadly, yet reasonable existence.
Her thoughts drifted back to the quality of life she used to know. She thought about her old friends. The simple minded family and the values she cultivated in her younger years. Building a home from the nothingness. Gluing unity together piece by precious piece. Setting loneliness and solitude aside for the convenience of fellowship, and the desperate desire not to be alone. To stand side by side with the people she thought she could come to love…
People who would unquestionably grow to love her.
Raven was a different person then. She spent her time putting effort into a dream that seemed intangible. Obviously impossible. She'd fought so hard for those comfortable ideals, only to leave it all behind when her cynicism finally overcame her. A wry smile tugged at her lips. One that soured quickly into sadness, bitterness, and even a hint of rage. A frown molded into a scowl as she truly gave thought to it all.
What would Taiyang think of her now?
Did he even think of her?
What about Qrow, or even Summer?
Her heart ached at the thought of a woman who could no longer speak her discontent. The dead couldn't talk, and ghosts could only haunt the mind.
It had been a long time since Raven was part of that family. It seemed like forever ago that she traveled side by side with them. Fighting back Grimm, helping those in need thoughtless of any reward, every single gesture pure hearted and well-meaning. She recalled how every setback was minor back then. How each of them chose to move forward together. Making a true family out of the broken and fractured pieces of the lives they once knew.
Upon reflection, it was impossible.
Siblings, the twins of bandits. A silver eyed warrior. A lonely optimistic, who only wanted to help the world for a greater good. It was laughable at best. At the time, she'd even said as much. Disbelief battering at her soul, warring with the smidgeon of hope that she felt. Going along with it all because she had to, not because she wanted to. The group got tired of wandering, they stopped and settled in a remote area on the Island of Patch. They built a home, and began a little family. She'd given birth to a daughter, and then it all when to shit.
When she walked out back then, she left that daughter behind…
Angry for recalling even that detail with such clarity, she pushed the matter aside. There was no use in lingering on the past. It was gone, and those days were never coming back. Deep down in her heart of hearts, she knew that...just like she knew she needed air to breathe.
More agitated than when she began, Raven got out of the water. sitting down by the firelight, she let the flickering flame warm her as she waited for her clothes to dry.