"And… done." Callie sighed, letting her hands fall away from the computer keyboard. She slumped back in her chair for a few moments, before she brought up her hands and flexed her aching fingers. "Olivia? Could you read this over for me?"
"Sure." Callie scooted her chair aside, allowing space for Olivia to lean in and read what she'd typed.
The library had been packed with students when Callie and Olivia arrived just a few hours before. But as the evening wore on, their numbers dwindled until at last, only the black-haired girl and the brunette remained, seated in front of one of the library's computers as Callie worked frantically to complete her assignment for Professor Carmine's class.
"Thanks for helping me out, Olive" Callie said. "I don't know what I was thinking when I picked the Battle of Fort Castle for this report- I don't know the first thing about the Faunus War."
"I'm surprised you don't know more about it, Cal," Olivia replied, without taking her eyes off the screen. "Considering how much you know about all the crime here in Mistral, I thought you'd know that the Faunus War was when all the major crime syndicates really established themselves."
Callie sat up, looking at her teammate. "Wait, really?"
Olivia nodded. "When the four Kingdoms started rounding up faunus to ship them off to Menagerie, some of the syndicates got an idea- they sent out people who told the faunus they'd be safe if they went to Mistral, and that they could take them there… for a price, of course. So, if they paid enough, the syndicates would smuggle faunus into Mistral and then pay people off to keep them from turning them over to the military."
Callie leaned towards her teammate. "For real?"
Another nod. "Yeah. Most of Mistral's crime syndicates started out as faunus traffickers- the big ones, anyway." Olivia's eyes narrowed , and she began to tremble. "Not that things here were much better than they would've been in Menagerie. Being forced to leave your whole life behind, being separated from your loved ones, being corralled and forced to live where someone else tell you to…" The brunette glanced to her teammate." You ever wonder why that district just south of Haven is called 'the Farm?'"
All Callie could do was stare at her teammate in a stunned silence. "…I should really crack open a history book more often." There was an uncomfortable silence as the black-haired girl searched for something- anything else to talk about. "So…" she began uncertainly, "…what about you? What'd you write your report on?"
Callie internally breathed a relieved sigh when Olivia relaxed. "The Invasion of Mantle," the brunette replied. "The last battle of the Great War."
"See, I wish I'd thought of writing on that," Callie said. "The Allies roll into the city, the Equilibrium Council refuses to surrender, and the Allies shell them into oblivion. Easy."
Olivia looked to her teammate again. "Well, you have to talk about how the battle's outcome influences modern times too, not just the battle itself. Something you forgot to add in your report."
"Oh." Callie moved back in front of the computer, her fingers already beginning to ache. "…well, at least I have something to start with."
It would take another hour of typing and poring over oversized history books before Callie and Olivia left the library, report in hand. They walked the long walk between the library and Team CYOT's dorm room, through empty, darkened hallways, chatting idly as they went:
"I'm just glad they have computers here at Haven," Callie said. "Back at my old combat school, we had to do all our reports on typewriters- I would've stabbed someone if I had to type this whole thing all over again." She waved her report for emphasis.
"…By the way," the leader began, "I heard some people saying that the first-years' excursion to the Black Coast got pushed back again. Are we ever gonna get to go on that trip?"
"I asked Professor Moss about that after class yesterday," Olivia replied. "She said a colony of Kraken showed up just off-shore."
Callie raised an eyebrow. "Another one? I thought some Huntsmen just cleared out a colony a couple weeks ago."
"They did. I guess there were more Kraken in the bay than they thought. You do know how hard it is to fight aquatic Grimm, don't you?"
"I know…" Callie looked to Olivia. "So… no trip, then?"
"The professor didn't say that. She said that most likely, we'll be having an excursion to Schwarzbaum Forest instead." Olivia replied as the two ascended a flight of stairs up to the dorms.
Callie sighed. "Schwarzbaum Forest, the Black Coast, the Charcoal Mountains… is there anything around here that isn't black?"
The answer to that question was "No." Before receiving its… current reputation, Mistral was most well-known for its metal industries. Dozens of mills across the city smelted steel, copper, iron, and countless other metals- even now, long after the Great War, the mills continue to run, belching fire and smoke into the sky at all hours of the day and night.
But decades of such industry had taken its toll. For miles upon miles, the landscape surrounding the capital was stained a charcoal black, and a dark cloud of smog perpetually hung over the city, one so thick as to block out the sun- even in the middle of the day.
Still, it wasn't as bad as it used to be- when one had to wear a respirator while outside, and when getting caught in the rain unprotected meant serious chemical burns.
Climbing three flights of stairs, Callie and Olivia entered a narrow hallway lined with doors, but no windows- the dorms. As they walked down the hall, Olivia began, "So… how have things been with Traviss?"
A few embers of anger flared up in Callie's chest, but she quickly extinguished them. "Oh, you know. Same as always: I try to get him to open up, he avoids my questions, and the second I take my eyes off of him, he vanishes." She sighed. "I swear, I'm this close to putting him on a leash."
"Do you think we should talk to Headmaster Wald about it?" Olivia asked as the two came to a stop in front of one particular door.
"No that's only for when teams have big fights," Callie replied as she unlocked the door. "Like that one Team JNGL (pronounced "Jungle") had a while ago." She stepped inside.
The brunette followed. "Can't you do anything? Like… pull rank on him? You are the team leader."
"She tried that once before," a new voice replied. "It didn't work."
The two Huntresses-in-training jolted in surprise, not expecting the room to already be occupied. But they relaxed when they saw Yuki laying on the bed furthest to the right, reading some kind of letter.
"Also," Yuki continued, "if it's not too much to ask, try to keep it down. A certain someone decided to turn in early today." Without looking up, Yuki jabbed a thumb over to the far side of the room.
The dorm rooms in Haven all shared the same general layout: four beds, spaced at equal intervals, were set against the wall opposite the front door; four small desks sat directly across from the beds; and a door leading to the bathroom was located either to the right or to the left of the entrance, depending on the room (for Team CYOT, the bathroom door was to the left). Although students had the freedom to arrange their room's furniture into whatever configuration they deemed most comfortable, Team CYOT chose not to do so- meaning that aside from a few personal effects, the room's layout was perfectly symmetrical…
… save for a light blue curtain surrounding the bed on the far left.
Traviss himself had put it up early in the year, not long after the four had been put on the same team. When Callie had asked him why, his response was simple:
I'm a guy, sharing a room with three girls. I hope I don't have to explain any more than that.
The black-haired leader decided he raised a fair point.
Back in the present, Callie approached the drawn curtain uncertainly, before looking back to Yuki. "Is he really in there?" she asked in a hushed tone. Outside of class, Traviss tended to spend his time away from the team, doing God-only-knew-what, to the point that he would be absent when the others went to bed. But he would always be there when the team's alarm went off at 7:30 A.M. sharp- apparently, even he needed to sleep at some point.
Yuki nodded in reply. But Callie wasn't fully convinced. So, she opened the curtain slightly and peered inside.
Sprawled on the bed was the sleeping body of Traviss Rydinger, dressed in his usual set of pajamas: a black sweatshirt and a light gray pair of sweatpants. Seated on his head, though now pulled down to his nose, was his ever-present beanie, still the same obnoxiously bright shade of orange as always. In spite of the heat and humidity Mistral was infamous for, the team's sole boy slept peacefully, even with his heavy attire.
The other two members of Team CYOT crowded around Callie, looking down at the sleeping boy. "Doesn't he ever take that stupid thing off?" Yuki asked.
"I'm amazed he hasn't gotten in trouble for breaking the dress code yet," Olivia said.
Yuki eyed the goggles perched on Olivia's forehead. "Like you're one to talk."
Before any arguments could break out, Callie closed the curtain. "Well I don't know about the rest of you, but I think Traviss has the right idea. I'm beat."
"Well that's what you get for leaving your assignments until the last minute," Yuki said, as she turned back to her own bed.
Callie was too tired to argue as she began to change into her pajamas- her bed being right beside Traviss's. After just a few minutes, the three girls were changed, and Yuki and Olivia were already lying in their beds. Callie crossed the room- as team leader, it was her responsibility to turn out the light at bedtime.
"'Night, guys," she said, flicking off the light switch. The bright light of the room's ceiling lamp was instantly replaced with the soft glow of the city outside, streaming in through the windows.
Callie made her way back to her bed, but before lying down, she sat on her mattress and gazed out the window- outside, a sea of lights shone beneath an empty, starless sky. "You're out there somewhere…"
"Callie did you say something?" Olivia asked from the darkness behind.
"O-Oh, it was nothing," Callie stammered, burying herself in her blankets. She was glad it was dark- she could only imagine what shade of red her burning face must be now. But as she lay under her blankets, staring up at her ceiling, Callie finished her thought. In her head this time.
You're out there somewhere. I know it. Other people might not… understand you. They might be afraid of you, or even hate you. But I'm not afraid. In fact, I… I want to meet you again. I know I can never thank you enough for what you've done for this city- for me… but I still want to thank you. Just… once…
Her last thoughts before sleep took her were of that night, when she was but a helpless child- fire, terror... and him, cleaving through that terror like a blade. If anyone had the ability to peer into Callie's memories at that moment, they would've seen a monster, a demon, wreathed in flames.
But not her.
She saw him for what he truly was.
A hero.
A savior, flying through the night, upon wings of leather.
For a time, the four members of Team CYOT slept peacefully, insulated from the harsh world outside Haven's walls.
But then, one began to stir from their slumber. As they did every night.
The first thing he became aware of was the pain in the side of his head, a pain that throbbed with every beat of his heart. With a groan, he opened his eyes, having to blink several times to clear the fog from his vision.
He felt something pull his gaze upward. Overhead, he saw a sea of stars. …but, that couldn't be right. There were no stars in Mistral.
"Wh… what? What happened?" he said, unable to make any sense of what he saw.
The man suddenly became aware of something gripping his ankle tightly. He looked down, noting the strange pull on his body. And what he saw nearly made his heart leap out of his chest.
Standing below- or rather, above him, bathed in the light of the flames belching from a smokestack behind was… it.
The first scream had been surprise. But surprise soon gave way to pure terror as the man quickly came to understand his situation. He screamed, flailed, twisted, but nothing would break the iron grip that monster held on his ankle. In his terror, he forgot that he was being dangled from a platform near the top of a tall smokestack- hundreds of feet above the ground- and that the slightest slip in the monster's grip would send him hurtling to his death.
Somehow, the man found it in himself to stammer, "L-Lemme go!"
The monster replied with a snarl, before doing just that.
There was an awful floating sensation, and a terrified scream ripped from the man's throat as gravity took hold. But after falling only a dozen feet, something caught his leg, stabbing spears of pain into his hip. His terrified scream was cut off by a pained yelp when he jolted to a stop and slammed into the side of a brick smokestack, face-first. He groaned and coughed, spitting up blood, before feeling something tug on his leg.
He looked up- a rope had been tied around his ankle, a rope that that monster was using to pull him back up. In a matter of moments, the monster grabbed him by the ankle again and threw him against the platform.
The man desperately tried to crawl away- no small feat with the pain stabbing into his hip. "What do you want from me!"
The monster snarled again, before throwing something at his feet. A photograph of his boss. The man looked down on it, then back at the monster.
"Y…You wanna know about Matches?" The monster's answer came in the form of a swift kick to the chest, before his foot pressed down on his skull. "Okay! OKAY! I'll tell ya everything!"
The man knew that his boss would gut him like a fish for spilling the way he did. But he didn't care about that at the moment. Matches could judge him after he got thrown off a building.
The monster must have been satisfied with what he heard, as the weight on the man's skull was removed. But all of a sudden, a sharp talon seized him by the throat, and the monster lifted him into the air with frightening ease. It carried him over to the ledge, using its free claw to cut the rope.
"W-Wait! What're you doing!? I told you everything I-"
The man was silenced when the monster slammed his elbow against the side of his head.
With a huff, the monster tossed the unconscious man back onto the platform behind it. It would be too much of a hassle to carry him back down to ground level- he could stay up here and reflect on his poor decision-making skills. And in any case, the monster had what it was looking for. So with a few flaps of its great wings, the monster took flight, and disappeared into the night sky.
Olivia swung her halberd with all her might. But her opponent- a dark-skinned girl with green hair- blocked the blow with one of her submachine guns. For several seconds, the two Huntresses-in-training stood deadlocked, trying to overpower the other. The brunette was the first to pull away, whirling her halberd around her to keep her opponent at bay- but the green-haired girl kept her distance as she aimed her two submachineguns at the brunette and opened fire. Olivia sprinted to the side, turning her halberd around in her hands- she took aim with the gun built into the shaft, and fired a few rounds in return. The green-haired girl dived to the side to avoid the shots, giving Olivia the opening she needed to close in.
As the two students clashed, the rest of Team CYOT, and indeed, all the first year students, looked on. At the edge of the arena, a burly, bald man with a thick brown mustache stood with his arms crossed, body tense, ready to intervene at any moment should the match get out of hand.
As a combat school dedicated to educating future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it's only natural that Haven would have facilities for students to hone their fighting skills. But practice dummies and shooting ranges can only take you so far- the practice arena was the place where one could truly test their skills. Twice a week, all the same-year students would gather and watch their classmates pummel each other senseless, if they weren't pummeling or being pummeled themselves.
And let me tell you- when you have thirty-nine pairs of eyes judging your every move, you're gonna fight your hardest to make sure you aren't the one getting his ass beat.
...didn't stop me from getting more than my fair share of ass-kickings, though.
The green-haired girl stabbed at Olivia with the bayonets mounted on her guns. But Olivia was faster- she dodged to the side, before swinging the shaft of her halberd and striking her foe in the stomach. As the green-haired girl doubled over, Olivia pulled back, and smacked her across the face with the flat of the halberd's blade. The other girl was knocked off her feet, and slid across the arena floor. But after only a moment, she sprung to her feet and charged at Olivia with an angry bellow.
But a deep voice called, "Hold!"
The green-haired girl stumbled to a stop, before looking to the source- the burly man at the arena's edge. "What?" she shouted. "Professor Braun, I'm-"
But Professor Braun interrupted, "I don't believe I need to remind you what that light on your aura gauge means, Ms. Oakley."
The green-haired girl, 'Ms. Oakley,' looked down to the aura gauge on her wrist- sure enough, it was flashing with a bright orange light, meaning her Aura had fallen into the red. She grumbled, but stood down.
"The match goes to Ms. Rangifer," Professor Braun continued, turning his attention to the green-haired girl. "Ms. Oakley, although your medium- and long-range combat skills have improved, your close-range skills are still very weak. If you were with your team, they could compensate for that, but in a one-on-one situation, it's a weakness an enemy can easily exploit." His gaze shifted back to both students. "Please returned to your seats."
The two made their way to the stairs into the seats surrounding the arena. Olivia sat with her team- the green-haired girl took her seat a few rows back. As she took her seat, Olivia overheard one of the green-haired girl's teammates say in a comforting voice, "Nice try, Jani…"
"I believe we have enough time for one last match." The professor's steely eyes swept across the students. "…Ms. Quail, Mr. Rydinger, you have the final match for today."
A murmuring arose among the students. But it was not because the two were teammates- members of the same team were pitted against one another fairly often. Rather, it was because of the difference in skill level between the two. With the fourth-highest number of sparring match victories, Callie was near the top of the class among first-years, in combat class at least. Traviss, on the other hand, ranked dead last, with only two wins to his name since the start of the semester.
As the two members of Team CYOT made their way to the arena floor, the murmurs were silenced by the harsh glares of the combat instructor. Once the two were in the light, Callie took a moment to examine her teammate.
Every one of Traviss's non-school-uniform outfits seemed to be some ugly mishmash of clashing colors and patterns. But through them all, his hideous orange beanie seemed to be the one constant. On this particular day, he wore a yellow and black striped shirt beneath a green blazer, white pants held up by two tan belts, and black boots. In the holsters hanging from his belts rested his weapons: a large .44 caliber revolver with a black finish he called Sable, and an equally large .50 semiautomatic pistol with a silver finish he named Blanche.
Callie, on the other hand, was dressed a bit more sensibly: a black tank top and black jeans, with thin golden stripes running along their sides, and a pair of black running shoes. She had little in the way of armor- her fighting style necessitated mobility- but she wasn't completely unprotected: a pair of light spaulders for her shoulders, sturdy vambraces for her forearms, and a pair of greaves for her shins. Sheathed across her back were her two swords: one straight, the other with a slight curve. They were named Jian and Falx, but as to which one which, only Callie knew for sure.
"Take your positions," Braun ordered.
The two did as they were instructed, taking their places at a pair of lines set about eight feet apart at the center of the arena. Callie drew her swords, one at a time. "Don't hold back just because I'm your leader," she said.
Traviss drew his guns in turn, and replied in a faint voice, "I won't."
All was still for a few moments, until Braun spoke a single word:
"Begin."
Callie rushed forward. Traviss tried to take aim with his revolver, but Callie batted his arm aside with her straight sword, and he fired into the ceiling. She swung her other sword, slashing him across the chest. But Traviss fired his semiauto directly into her chest- with no room to dodge, she had no choice but to take the blow. The shot pushed her back- Traviss backed up, further distancing himself, as he raised both guns and fired them at Callie. She deflected the bullets with her blades, but soon noticed something: though there were some close calls, none of his shots would've actually hit her.
She grimaced. And she told him not to hold back.
Before long, all that emerged from Traviss's guns were hollow clicks. He reached toward his pocket- but Callie charged, refusing to give him a chance to reload. She slashed at him with an overhead strike, but he blocked the blow with his revolver. She swung her free sword at him, and he leapt back to avoid the blade. He fell back gracelessly, rolling from his back onto his feet in a crouching stance. He was wide open- Callie rushed him again as he rose to his feet.
The world slowed for Traviss as he looked up. Callie was only a few feet away, her face set into a determined glare. The sword in her right hand inched toward him, in a wide swing aimed at his left side. With the situation assessed, Traviss automatically moved to counter.
The fear vanished from Traviss's face as he dropped his revolver, and grabbed her arm with his left hand, stopping Callie's swing dead in its tracks. Then, he slammed his right elbow against the side of her face.
A few surprised gasps filled the room. Callie's world spun, and she staggered to the side. It… hurt. Even with her aura to dampen the blow, she had no idea Traviss could hit so hard. She shook off the pain and snapped her attention back to Traviss, expecting to find him bearing down on her…
But Traviss stood a few feet away, just… staring at her- from his expression, he seemed just as surprised by his own action as she was. She stole a quick glance at the aura gauge on her wrist- the needle was still in the green, though just barely. And Traviss was still just standing there. So she charged.
Traviss snapped out of his stunned state when he saw her move, and tried to raise his semiauto. But it was too late- Callie had closed the distance, and slashed at his wrist. He cried out in pain and stumbled back, his gun flying from his hand. Before he could regain his balance, Callie struck again, reaching back and slamming the pommel of her straight sword against his stomach. Traviss collapsed to the floor; before he could rise, a foot pressed down against his chest, Callie crossed her blades over his throat, glaring down at him. "Do you yield?" she asked.
Traviss's eyes flicked around, looking for any opening he could exploit. But there was none, and he hung his head in defeat. "…I yield."
Callie moved her blades and stepped back, allowing Traviss to rise. As he did, Professor Braun stepped into the arena. "The match goes to Ms. Quail," he said firmly, before looking to Traviss. "Mr. Rydinger…" he began, "…I'm going to skip over evaluating your usual lackluster performance, but only because of something I noticed during this match: During Ms. Quail's assault, you both found and opening, and took advantage of it. Yet, you did not exploit it further. Why?"
Traviss froze up at the reminder of his mistake. It took several moments for him to reply. "I… I didn't want to hurt my teammate."
Braun let out a long sigh. "In this arena, Mr. Rydinger, the person standing across from you is not your teammate, your classmate, or your friend- they are your enemy. And at any rate, Ms. Quail's aura is more than capable of protecting her from harm." The professor crossed his arms over his chest and gave Traviss a firm glare. "Restraining yourself while sparring here benefits no one, yourself least of all. Especially when your enemy will not extend that same courtesy to you."
Traviss hung his head in shame for a second time as Braun turned his attention to the surrounding students. "That concludes our class for today. Remember both what you've seen, and the advice I've shared with you all. And for those of you who lost their matches: it's better that you suffer defeat here, where only your pride is at stake. In the field, failure can wound much more than your pride." He clasped his hands behind his back. "You are dismissed."
The other students began to file out of the room. Callie looked to Traviss for a moment, before she sheathed her blades and followed the crowd, leaving him alone.
Traviss turned to retrieve his weapons, the match playing over and over in his head. But he was not ashamed of his loss- that was something he endured regularly now. He grimaced as the image of his hand grabbing onto Callie's arm appeared in his head.
He slipped up.
He couldn't let that happen again.