Have my mother over today for the bank holiday and she's watching horse jumping. Gets much too into it. Heard a scream and ran through thinking she'd fallen and hurt herself. She's sat on the couch, points at the screen and says, "I know that horse! My old horse sired it!"

Thanks mom. Nearly had a heart attack.

CONTINUITY ERROR FIXED: As some noted, I made a mistake and had Coral stay behind in Ch.50 and Pyrrha go with them, which then got switched. I have now edited Ch.50 to have Pyrrha stay and Coral come with them. Apologies. I likely got mixed up over my week off.

Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 52

Winter had only eyes for Jaune and paid no attention to Blake moving about her roots. A touch here, a caress there, and the power of what she could only consider "unlife" seeped into the roots, corrupting and turning them to ash. They aged before her eyes, blackening and crumbling to dust. Blake wondered what her touch might do to a person, and that strange curiosity gnawed at her more than she thought it should. A part of her even wanted to touch herself and see what would happen.

But she was only curious – not suicidal – and it would be such a waste to make a deal and not use the boon given. Even if she didn't truly believe her "joy" had been taken from her at all. What did that even mean? Blake felt no different. Mildly tired, a little cold, bored as she weaved between roots and brought them to ash. Her attention slid to Jaune and Winter's fight, but it didn't entertain her long. Just a pair of silly people fighting for silly reasons: Winter for wealth and power, and Jaune for the love of a family who would never give it. Pathetic, in the grand scheme of things.

A loud crack above their heads was followed by falling rocks. The ceiling was weakened, and a hole opened, light beaming down. ARC Corp were blowing their way down. A huge boulder almost crushed her, slamming into the ground less than a foot away from her and kicking up dust. Had that hit, she would have died instantly. Hm. Would there have been pain, or would her brain have been crushed before she could process it? It was all so very curious.

Blake moved away before more could fall, destroying all the roots on her side of the cavern. At last, Winter felt it. A few she could ignore but losing all her support to one side had her cry out and list that way, toppling. Fresh roots slammed out and pierced the ground to steady her, almost like someone throwing an arm out to catch their fall. Jaune roared, his voice distorted by waves of oxygen and heat into something unrecognisable. He was losing himself, she realised, but the thought didn't bring as much fear as it might normally have.

Honestly, with how often he normally did lose himself, maybe it would be better to just let it happen. Get it – and his death – out the way. Blake sighed heavily, moving on autopilot among the new roots.

"What-?" cried Winter. "How? What are you doing to me?"

Blake didn't answer. She might have enjoyed a chance to taunt her foe normally, but that seemed so empty now. And really, she wasn't in the mood. She wasn't in the mood for much at the moment. The pleasure was robbed of it. Realisation hit Blake less like a weight and more like the slow and lazy rising of the sun.

Oh, she thought, not even really bothered, I wonder if this is some of the joy that was taken from me. Would I normally feel happy to see her suffering? Wow. I must be a very cruel and bitter person to feel that.

Really, someone who took pleasure in the suffering of another was a bad person, weren't they? Maybe this lack of fire was a chance for self-reflection. Ah, but she couldn't bring herself to care too much about that. It was all too much like hard work. And what was the point? There was no reward. No satisfaction to be had. Blake simply ducked the roots that grasped for her skull and dragged her finger across the underside of them, feeling them writhe and twitch in agony before they died.

Jaune launched himself onto Winter before she could recover. He, at least, knew what he wanted – and that was Winter's death. So simple, so sad in a sense, though not to her. It was more of a distant pity you felt looking at someone doing something self-destructive. He must have wanted to avenge Coral, which was strange because she was not someone worth avenging in Blake's books.

The girl had been annoying at the best of times, and quite clearly damaged. Maybe she was better off dead. The world clearly didn't understand Coral Arc, and she didn't understand the world. It was doubtful her family understood her either. That woman had lived with a different view of the world that was incompatible with other people.

I'm not normally so introspective, she thought. Well, never mind. I should get on with killing Winter. Though there wasn't much heat in it. Really, a part of her thought she might as well walk off and find something more entertaining to do. Then she might chase me though, and that would be annoying.

Ah, well. Death it was.

Hopping over a set of roots and ducking under a wave of fire from Jaune, she worked her way closer to the mad melee. Jaune was almost fully gone, or so she assumed. He had wings of flame, his hair was on fire, and his eyes burning strangely dark in the midst of it all. Winter was wholly gone. Inhuman now, but if Coral's last words were to be believed then she might yet revert. It would depend on how far the transformation had gone. Blake ducked and scooped up Crocea Mors, idly wondering why it didn't break or die in her hands, but then recalling she'd asked for the power to kill Winter specifically. It must have been that the boon she'd been granted only worked on her. A shame, as power like this might have been nice to have otherwise. Convenient, if nothing else.

Drawing Crocea Mors, she felt her hands hiss and burn – all but proving the anomalous interference. Hissing through the pain, she brought her arm back and forward, slicing at the beast's chest and letting go from pain at the last second. The sword hurled end over end toward Winter, but she couldn't miss the glowing and burning thing coming, and lurched out the way at the last second. It went by, toward Jaune.

Oops, thought Blake. I guess I killed him. Oh well.

Jaune, however, twisted and caught the sword as if she'd tossed it to him. His arm sizzled and the light grew brighter, but he was used to the pain by now. This was his anomaly, his sword, and he felt that pain every time he drew it. He brought it up and down on Winter's head, missing that as she lurched aside. Winter couldn't go far, however. Not with so many of the roots that pulled her around having withered and died. Crocea Mors missed her head but dug down into her left shoulder, cutting deep into her plant-like body and lodging there.

"Arghhhhh!"

She writhed and flailed; twisted and screamed. The anomaly continued to burn hot and bright inside her, burning away at her insides. Vines came up to wrap around it and try to pull it out, but they burned away from the heat of the sword. Winter gripped her hand around the hilt but that only made her scream louder. The slightest touch was agony, and the sword had all but robbed her left arm of movement as it was.

The roof caved in at that moment. The hole was widened, rocks falling among the dust and around the silent anomaly in the centre of the room. Lines came down, thick corded rope, following which came numerous people in White Fang uniforms. ARC Corp had arrived at last. Late, in her opinion.

As soon as they landed, they turned their guns on Winter – or Winter and Jaune, they were less than careful with their shots. A few even bounced off Blake's aura, and she felt a cold urge to race the perpetrator down and kill them.

"Focus fire on the plant!" roared Nicholas. "Where is Coral!?"

"Dead," replied Blake, voice even and bland. "The anomaly turned her to dust."

Nicholas snarled. Was that anger? How strange. She had thought him beyond caring for his family. He'd already lived through the deaths of many of them. Coral had been as much a black sheep as Jaune too. It only went to show how hypocritical people could be, she supposed. Lambast and despise someone while they were alive and then hate the fact they had died. Tired of it, Blake moved back to her original task, slowly picking away the roots that Winter tried to plant to steady herself. It was easier if she stayed on the ground, really.

Jaune planted a foot on her chest and gripped Crocea Mors in two hands. He didn't pull it out, but instead pressed down and drove it deeper, then twisted it viciously. Winter screamed. It seemed to her that he could have lopped off her head, but she supposed he was her boss and could act as he wished. It was his life he was risking doing so.

"Hold fire!" called Nicholas, raising an arm. "Jaune – is that you? Can you hear me?"

Jaune heaved atop the woman, his fiery wings licking out and upward like bright orange ribbons. He didn't speak, but he did wave a hand in Nicholas' direction. That seemed to be proof enough of his control. Beneath him, Winter Schnee was… changing. Shrinking. Her anomalous body had taken too much and appeared to be retreating, almost like it needed to rest. Her skin turned from bark to pale human skin, and she lost more than two thirds her body mass. Unfortunately for her, her human body was formed still impaled on Crocea Mors, so it wasn't much of an escape. It continued to shine and burn as well, though that could have been because it was reacting to Jaune. Unlikely, though. If the sword burned him in his human form then it would burn her as well.

And if everything else held true then Winter Schnee would now be incapable of using aura. Whatever she had injected into herself, she must have injected after draining her aura first to make sure Light of the Soul couldn't fight it off.

The battle was over. It was almost anti-climactic. Then again, maybe she couldn't feel the satisfaction she normally would thanks to having traded it away. Blake pushed her hands into her pockets, content to just watch and wait. Jaune was still in his anomalous form. She wondered if Nicholas would use that as an excuse to kill him. Hadn't she promised to intervene if that were the case? Blake wasn't sure she would right now. She felt no great compulsion to.

"Jaune," said Nicholas. "Stand down. Turn back now or we'll be forced to act."

"Is it really force?" asked Blake. "It always seemed to me that you wanted to kill him."

Nicholas shot her an angry glare. "Now isn't the time for your lip, girl. If you can calm him down, then do so. If he's lost his mind then-" Blake reached out and touched her palm to the man's cheek. He paused, an eyebrow rising as he stared at her. "Is there a point to this?"

He wasn't dead or dying. Blake felt no disappoint, nor any relief. It was simply a statement. She didn't think she would have been too sad if he died right then, though. It might have caused a little panic amongst everyone, but that didn't bother her either. Well, he was lucky this time.

"I was just testing something."

"Then test in your own time," he huffed, and batted her arm away with the back of his hand. "Jaune-" He paused. "You're back under control, then? Good."

It looked like her curiosity had bought time for Jaune to regain control. Convenient, she supposed. Nicholas stalked past her and up to Jaune, who was stepping back from Crocea Mors. It hurt him too much to stay close, but he obviously wasn't willing to let Winter up, so he left it buried in her.

Nicholas took one look down at the woman transfixed to the floor and then took hold of Jaune's sword. He twisted, dragged it out, and then brought it down in a single chop. Winter's head rolled down the rocky cavern floor to nestle in the dust, coincidentally next to Coral's clothes, laying empty at the base. There was a ragged cheer from ARC Corp. Blake clapped her hands, though more because she felt it was expected than because she was impressed with him beheading an already defeated foe.

I wish I could feel pleasure in that. I suppose the joy I would have felt at seeing Winter killed is being felt by the anomaly now. It was something she felt some small frustration over, because what ought to have been a great moment was now nothing but muscle soreness and fatigue.

"Belladonna," said Pyrrha, nodding once. "I'm good to see you made it through alive. I heard about Coral."

"Dead, yes." Blake said it without much interest. "It didn't seem to be a good end from what she said; I suppose her body will be used to power a nightlight or for ammunition now. A shame."

"She was turned to dust?"

"Yes. Amazing, isn't it?" asked Blake. "That dust we have so taken for granted, used in everything from cars to weapons to cooking appliances to television sets. It was all made from real people. Faunus taken from mines and sacrificed to this entity by the SDC."

Blake knew she should have been furious about that. How a loss of "joy" translated to a loss of "anger" she didn't know, but maybe it was all about the contrast. Maybe not being able to feel happy meant she couldn't feel sad or angry either. In this case that might have been a good thing, because she wasn't sure how unreasonable she'd have been normally. There might even have been tears and screaming and demands for the world to change.

Cold as she was now, she knew it could not. The world relied on dust to the point that it just didn't have an alternative energy source. One could be made in time, and maybe ARC Corp would get to work on that, but until such a thing was cheaply available, the world would continue to demand dust, and since ARC Corp had to maintain the illusion of it being a mineral to be mined, well, there would have to be mines. There would have to be refineries. There would have to be output.

Which meant people would still be fed to this anomaly.

Maybe those people in the cells right now would be used. A lot of those victims already knew worrisome secrets, so it might be easier to just dispose of them here. And the Schnee family members they'd captured. Easier to do away with them this way. Probably the staff, too. If Blake had her way, she'd line them all up and march them into its grasp. Let the thing glut itself on them. They could empty out prisons too. There were a lot of people the world wouldn't miss too much.

"Belladonna… Blake…" Pyrrha stressed her name. "Are you… Are you okay? You feel so different."

"I'm sure it is nothing."

"What is that book? Is that one of Coral's anomalies?"

Blake moved her hip back when Pyrrha reached for it and caught the woman's wrist with her other hand. It didn't turn to ash and dissolve; that was a shame. Blake's lips peeled back in her first surge of real emotion. Cold, murderous rage. "Do not touch it!" she hissed. "It is mine!"

Pyrrha pulled her arm back. "What?"

"I claim it by virtue of ARC Corp protocol 2, section 4." said Blake, her voice moving outside her control. Whispering words she hardly understood. Protocol? Section? She'd never read anything like that, and yet she kept talking. "I claim this book as my Slaved Anomaly, to be bound to my side until such a time as I die, or our work is done. It was… imperative in defeating Winter. I will not surrender it."

"I… Okay." Pyrrha took a step back. She was worried, Blake could tell, and very likely to talk to Saphron and Terra about this. "It's your choice at the end of the day. I'll just… I'll go and tell the others your decision."

Blake watched her go. Watched as Pyrrha slid sideways away without ever turning her back. I should kill her, Blake thought, but then she dismissed the thought as reckless. Pyrrha was strong, wary, and they were surrounded by people. It would be much easier to kill her in private at some other time.

"Blake." Jaune approached her. He looked tired, haggard, worn. "Thank goodness you're okay. I… I thought she'd kill you like she did Coral."

He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and visibly trembled. Blake thought about pointing out that Coral did not love him as much as he loved her, but she didn't see much point in it. Too much hassle. A part of her knew it would be cruel as well, and would hurt him, and oddly enough thought she shouldn't be hurting him. Blake wondered at that but didn't put too much thought into it.

"It is what it is," she said instead. "Winter is dead. The Schnee are dead. The auctions are over. This is a victory, is it not?"

"Yes. But I don't feel any pleasure in it."

Blake hummed. She knew she ought to feel amused, but that emotion was absent as well. All she felt was a whole lot of nothing inside her. "I know how that feels. I believe I should request a week off work."

"Huh? Why? I mean, sure. Whatever you need. Are you hurt?"

"I believe I am injured, yes. Mentally injured."

He didn't understand, but he also didn't question. She knew he cared for her – probably more than he should in all honesty. "Take all the time you need, Blake. And I'm here for you if you need me."

What she needed was a moment alone – and time to read a book.

/-/

No one had challenged her as she claimed a room in the Schnee manor. That they were staying in the home of people they had just killed wasn't lost on her, but she didn't feel anything for it. That was the problem. In the heat of the battle it was easy to rationalise things away, but now Blake recognised the signs for what they were. It wasn't just her positive emotions that had been taken, but negative as well.

She could feel no distress over the fate of the faunus she had given so much of her life in fighting for; she could feel no grief for the loss of Coral, a girl she hadn't hated nearly that much; she could feel no disappointment for having worried Jaune; she could feel no fear for having threatened Pyrrha or temporarily lost control of her mind and mouth to spout that nonsense about taking the book as her slaved anomaly.

All of that had happened without her control and she felt nothing – which wasn't like her. It wasn't anything like her. No pleasure over Winter's death, no pity for the faunus who had died, no anger for the lies about dust. Hell, she was even using dust to power a light at that very moment and she didn't feel a thing.

Something was wrong.

"I agreed to trade my joy and pleasure but she has taken more," said Blake, laying the book down. "You've done something to me. Lied." Her fingers gripped it tight, but it was because she told them to. There was no anger in her otherwise. "I'm not right. Everything is wrong. I'm like a zombie right now. What did you do?"

The book didn't answer. Blake should have felt anger but felt nothing. She needed answers, however, and the only way to get them was to brave the anomaly again. Alone in her room, she took a deep breath, made sure her scroll was nearby with a voice recorded message on it explaining to Jaune what she was doing and why – just in case she died here – and then opened the cover once more. To that blank first page.

That slowly began to fill with ink.

The forest called out to her, and Blake walked into it without question this time. Her world changed, soon delivering her unto the meadow with the beautiful lake and the inhuman figure. She looked more real now, sketched still on the pages in ink, but also appearing in Blake's mind as a being of flesh and blood. Not warm, though. There was a chill to her that Blake felt from a distance, and she was sure the woman's skin would be cold to the touch.

"What brings thee again to my glade?" asked the figure. "Didst thou find my boon to be of assistance?"

Blake ignored her. "You controlled my words and my mind to make me keep you as my slaved anomaly."

The woman brought a hand before her mouth. Her tittering laughter was like raindrops on flowers. "I simply paved the way for future cooperation between us, dear child. Would thou have thrown me away so easily? Think of the boons I might grant thee in the future. I am too useful for thee to be rid of."

"Jaune will not be happy if I tell him what you did."

"If thou can tell him, child, then thou should do so. But thou might find the words hard to come by."

Meaning, she'd prevent Blake from telling him. She knew she ought to be angry, or afraid, but she felt neither. She felt nothing. "You took more from me than I bargained," said Blake, accusation thick in her voice. "You promised to take only joy and pleasure, but you've taken everything. I can't feel anything."

"Careful now, child. To accuse one such as I of cheating is no small thing. More than life hath been taken for such insult in the past." Her eyes sharpened. "But I shall forgive thee this one time, for it is thine understanding that is lacking, and this is a new experience. I shall even assist thee. How magnanimous I am. Our accord was struck for thy joy for a week – and thy joy was defined as pleasure in our deal. This, you agree?"

"Joy and pleasure, yes. That was the deal. But I can't feel anger at what the SDC did. I can't feel sorrow at all the deaths. I can't even feel empathy for other people."

"Does thou miss it?"

"You know that I don't. I can't miss it, can I? Because of what you've done to me."

"Clever little child, but wisdom oft comes too late. Thou should be grateful I saw fit to only take for seven days and nights; that I saw fit to grant thee mercy in the form of a lesson. Pleasure, dear child, is the gateway to all other things. What is anger but a by-product of a dearth of pleasure? What is sorrow but the sensation of displeasure? And tell me, child, what is the difference between pleasure and displeasure?"

"Pleasure is positive experience. Displeasure is negative experiences."

"Correct. And are they different? Are they two separate entities?"

Blake knew the answer. "No. Pleasure is a spectrum. Positive means pleasure and negative means displeasure, but they're both the same thing." Her brows drew down. "You didn't just steal my positive emotions but my bad as well – because… because I was vague? Is that it? Because I said pleasure and joy, but I didn't specify that only meant happy feelings?"

"The child learns. All sensation is a delicacy to one such as I." The creature licked its fingers, and Blake felt something churn inside her. It was… It was eating her feelings. She could feel it happening, like a cold claw reaching into her heart and drawing something out to bite down on. "But I am fair. Always fair. Seven days and seven nights, we agreed."

"I want them back. I need them back."

"And you shall have them. In seven days and seven nights. A deal was struck, a boon granted, and now the price must be paid."

"What if I want to pay a different price?"

"You cannot. To renege on the deal would be to break it."

"What are the consequences of breaking the deal?" asked Blake

The thing smiled at her. Its teeth were sharp. No words were said, but Blake knew the consequences would be bad. If it even let her. It had the power here, and could choose whether to keep the deal or not. If she had no control over where her emotions went then she couldn't stop them being handed over.

"I will never make a deal again," she said, instead. "Once this is over, I will burn this book and make sure no one is ever tricked by you again."

"So be it, child. So be it. In time thou will return, when thou have need of me. Is there anything else thou need of me?"

Blake made to close the book and end the connection, but paused. A question ate at her. "Did Coral make a deal with you?" she asked. "Did she trade away her feelings and her ability to think as a human as well? Is that why she was… as she was…"

"To ask for knowledge could be seen as a boon in itself but I shall answer this one freely. The child known as Coral was ever as she was, born different by the standards of your kind. Few could understand her, and she could understand few, and so she was shunned and she shunned herself. Easier to close all away and face the world alone if none can understand you. As to our relationship, I found the girl amusing. T'was not an immediate understanding between us, but I am not human, and she was considered less than human. I enjoyed her company, and often did she come simply to talk and not make deals." The creature smiled again behind her thin fingers. "Does that surprise you? Does it distress you that your kind would shun one its own so badly they would seek company among the monsters?"

"Why ask if this distresses me if you've taken away my ability to feel distress?"

"Why do anything? Because it amuseth me to. But our meeting is over. No deal have you come to strike, and your pleasure am I enjoying myself upon. Enjoy your seven nights, Blake Belladonna, and remember that I am always available should thee wish to make another deal."

"I won't. Never."

"We shall see."

Blake sat alone on the bed with the closed book in her lap. She felt cold and alone, empty in a way she never had before, and unable to feel or grasp for any emotion. Blake sat in the dark and wished she could cry.

I'll reiterate the fae in this case is not Salem, though it is a canon character.

Next Chapter: 8th May

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