Athena was shown within the air, overlooking a graveyard surrounded by a small gray wall. She landed by the back iron gate and put on a blue cloak. The sun was slowly setting over the land, its bright orange glare almost blinding.
I've checked almost every graveyard and cemetery in this city… This is the last one left. If I find Rosa Vernal's grave here, this could either be really good or really bad. If she is here and she is deceased, then she must have at least one descendant that she entrusted to be The Keyholder. If she's still alive and/or not in this town, then the search will have to go farther.
Dare I say that I hope it is the former instead of the former. Or if it is the latter, that Rosa's descendant will be here in Wind Path.
She looked at the tombstones and the grave markers on the ground. There had to have been hundreds, maybe even thousands, and they were most likely not in alphabetical order by last name.
Well, I better get started…
The winged faunus started roaming the graveyard, taking in every surname on the headstones and markers on the ground.
Abner, Fosse, Smith, Vi
Eventually, she found one that caught her eye and began to distract her.
Lemongrass?
She took a closer look at the names on the two nearby headstones;
Vincent and Cho Lemongrass
She then examined their respective birth dates and shared death date, as well the supplementary information;
Born February 5th, 37 AGW/April 20th, 40 AGW
Died January 20th, 69 AGW
Beloved Father and Friend/Mother and Sister
Rest in Peace
Were they… Tawny's parents? Is this… why she joined the White Fang in the first place?
The 'war goddess' turned away from the headstone and sighed.
You're getting distracted. You need to focus!
She continued roaming through the graveyard.
I hope I don't have to travel anywhere else. How will I explain my absence to Adam or any of the White Fang leaders and members? And more importantly, how will I sneak away without that damned Hazel getting suspicious? Would Ares be able to cover for me?
The scene transitioned upward to the sun, soon showing the moon and the dark night sky. By this point, Athena was looking weary and exhausted. Her eyes went to a large memorial stone towards the upper right corner, nearby a dead tree.
This is the last headstone left. If this isn't Rosa Vernal's, my search in Wind Path comes to an end.
She tentatively approached the tree, and eventually made it to its roots. Grounding herself by touching the bark and feeling her breath seep in through her nose, she exhaled and laid her eyes upon the final gravestone.
And the name here is…
She looked at the name and tried to read it, but many of the letters had faded out.
-i-t-r–a N—s
It's not Rosa Vernal. Whatever name is here is so faded that it's impossible to read. Likely faded over decades, maybe even centuries. Not the first faded name I've seen tonight, but it is the last. Not one trace of the name Vernal, first or last. And that means all the time I spent here today and the day before looking at graveyards, cemeteries and mausoleums in this cursed city… has been for nothing.
Collapsing from exhaustion, she fell back first to the ground, her hood falling and revealing her face. The smell of musk, damp grass and sweat hovered around her, exhaustion settling in.
I need to get back to home base. But I'm so tired... I hardly have enough energy to fly, let alone stand or walk.
She sighed.
Should I lie here and let the earth claim me?
Her thoughts turned to her brother, the person he was and the profession he chose to pursue. He was a huntsman, a hero, who wanted to make society better for humans and faunus alike. And Athena? She was nothing more than a villain, looking out for her own selfish desires. Some might say that if it weren't for her love for Ares, she would be heartless.
She imagined Bruno, first at the age he died, and then how old he would be if he was alive.
Would Bruno even want this?
A tear or two escaped her eyes.
He wouldn't. But I can't let another innocent faunus die in the name of human supremacy. I'm in too deep to turn back...
Clenching her fingers in the dirt, she softly growled as anger revitalized her.
I can't give up. I won't give up. I will find the Keyholder, whoever and wherever she is, and burn Haven to the ground!
Rising to her feet, she took off her cloak and began folding it up, fully deploying her wings.
I will destroy this human-dominated society, even if it is the last thing I do!
Placing the folded cloak on her belt, she let anger flow through her as she took to the skies.
[A few hours earlier, June 7th, 5:30pm]
Lionheart and the Matalihutl brothers walked down a hallway, coming to a stop at the entrance to a restroom.
The lone Headmaster of Haven sighed. "This is embarrassing."
"You know how this goes. If you're not out in ten minutes, we'll have to come in." P.M reminded him.
Lionheart silently nodded and went in. As he closed the door, P.M started a timer on his Scroll for the specified time.
10:00…
9:59…
9:58…
9:57…
Before pocketing his device and guarding the entrance in silence with his brother.
Within the bathroom, Lionheart looked around. Deserted as always.
The walls here are pretty thick, so long as I keep my voice down, they shouldn't come barging in if I speak to myself… But how am I going to explain my…
Salem's shadow impatiently stood in the corner, and as Lionheart he gasped out, his voice slightly echoing.
"Leonardo Lionheart. You have not been answering. My patience is wearing thin…"
"I understand your anger, Your Highness, but I really do need to relieve myself."
She sighed heavily, the exasperation dripping in her voice. "Fine, do what you must and then we are having a serious talk."
"Thank you."
With this, he quickly shut himself inside a stall.
About three to four minutes later, the sound of a flush was heard as Lionheart exited the stall and went to the sink to wash his hands.
The conversations in these bathrooms are barely audible to those outside, and it sounds like background noise.
He turned to face a very angry shadow of Salem as he scrubbed his hands with soap. "Your communications have been becoming less frequent. Why is this?"
"I'm so sorry Your Graciousness, but I've been assigned bodyguards." He turned off the water and began to dry his hands under an air dryer, hoping no one would hear their dialogue. "They're standing outside the bathroom as we speak, and if they see you, I'm in so much trouble."
"Who assigned you these guards?"
"Aya Swaran, one of my fellow council members. She's dead, as is everyone else, and my guards take their job very seriously. Everyone knows too. Even if I were to try and dismiss them, it would only raise suspicions!" he whispered to her.
She exhaled, presumably to hold back some of her anger. "Tell me that you have at least found a lead as to where the Spring Maiden is."
"I'm afraid there's none, Your Majesty." He finished drying his hands and pulled out an envelope addressed to Dr. W. "Unless Dr. Watts still has that tracker you made for him."
She took the letter and pocketed it. "He lost the tracker long ago. We should have used it and found the Spring Maiden earlier. We need the Relic of Knowledge to find the other maidens, but without the Spring Maiden to open the vault, that knowledge remains out of reach."
A catch 22… he thought.
"Lionheart," Salem continued. "Do your guards know anything about magic, or of my existence?"
"Yes, they know magic exists through the Maidens but they don't know about you."
"Lionheart, are you alright in there?" A.M called to him offscreen.
"Who are you talking to?" P.M questioned.
"Just talking to my mother! I'll be out soon!" Lionheart yelled out to them, before turning back to his boss. "You need to go, before they see you."
"Your ten minutes of near solitude are almost up!" P.M reminded him.
"With all due respect, Your…Your Graciousness, with my guards watching nearly every move I make, I fear I am no longer good to you. I believe it may be for the best to let me go..."
She closed the distance between them and put her hand against his neck, a Shadow Hand emerging from her own shadow. They began to choke him. "Don't think for a moment that you are off the hook. I will find a way to speak to you, and you will continue providing me your aid unless or until I tell you otherwise. Unless you wish to face my wrath, you will obey. Is that clear?"
"Cr.. Cr.. Crystal, Your Grace." he stammered out.
The Shadow Hand and Salem released their hold on his neck and he panted in terror.
"I expect a lead in seven days' time. Don't disappoint me."
The shadow dissolved, leaving Lionheart alone.
"One minute, Mr. Lionheart!" P.M called out.
"I understand mom, love you!" he called out to no one.
He paced around for a few moments, wondering what to do.
What have I gotten into?
A few moments later, an alarm was heard from afar and his guards entered the room.
"Lionheart, are you alright?" A.M asked. "You seem distressed."
He closed his eyes, almost as if he was mourning. "I'm fine. Now come, it's almost supper time."
The troubled headmaster exited the bathroom, the door closing itself behind him.
[9:30pm]
All the while, Weiss had set up a campsite. She looked through her belongings looking for food. She shut her briefcase in dismay.
"Dang it, I've run out of food again. But it's already dark. Gathering and what little hunting I can do will have to wait until morning. Gosh damn it…"
The Arma Gigas turned its head towards her, giving her what appeared to be a look of sympathy. He sat down beside her, putting his hand on her shoulder.
She looked away with a sigh. "I bet Whitley is doing well. Probably feasting like a king or prince. That arrogant bastard."
A moment of silence passed as the Arma Gigas summon stood behind her.
Pulling out the Magic Mirror, she commanded, "Show me Whitley."
The mirror glowed with white energy before showing him, their father and several businessmen in a private room inside of a restaurant. The window had a lovely view of the city down below, indicating that the party was dining on the upper floors. The walls were sculpted of bronze colored wood, paired with dark chocolate colored tiles against a white ceiling with an overhead chandelier. Similarly colored wooden chairs were shown around a rectangular table with a white cloth. At the table, each guest had a plaque bearing their name and title;
Jacques Schnee, CEO
Whitley Schnee, Heir and Executive
Timothy Smith, VP
Daniel Dudley, CFO
Ulrich Eugig, CAO
Boris Gogal, CIO
Frederick Bayard, CMO
Weiss barely paid attention to her father's friends and allies, keeping her eyes mostly on her horrible father and her equally horrible brother. Out of the corner of her eye, she did see an employee standing nearby a lightswitch and with a pitcher of water in his hand.
The conversation seemed to be well underway, with each guest having a glass of water nearby. Most of the guests had wine glasses filled to various lengths, save for Whitley, who had a cup of tea by his glass.
Not long after the scene had formed, she noticed a presentation slideshow, with the time in the nearby corner; 18:30. They were three hours behind her and the time was written out differently. Small details in an overall picture that soon faded as the screen was turned off.
"And that is how we'll increase our sales this year by at least 70%." Mr. Bayard promised.
Jacques smirked in approval. "Excellent work as always, Mr. Bayard. Despite the collapse of Vale's CCT Tower, you have come up with an effective strategy that will work no matter what may happen overseas."
"Gentlemen," Mr. Smith began, lifting his wine glass. "I propose a toast; to the continual success of the SDC, and to Mr. Bayard for being here for five years."
"To continual success." Everyone agreed.
They clinked their wine glasses (or tea cup for Whitley's case) and drank.
Mr. Eugig's smile soon faded to a sour demeanor. Mr. Bayard quickly noticed and asked him, "You have a sour look on your face. Why is that?"
"I still can't believe that Randall Coal is attempting to open another dust shop after his first one failed." Mr. Eugig remarked as the server went around the table to refill water glasses. "Doesn't he realize he's going to lose more money than he will make in this attempt?"
"Nonsense. One tiny little dust shop compared to our entire branch. I give this shop two months." Mr. Dudley responded.
"I'd only give it one." Bayard remarked.
"Frankly, I'd give it even less." Mr. Gogal responded.
"What's even more troubling is the newly formed FAJS (Facts) organization." Mr. Dudley remarked.
"FAJS? And what does that stand for?" Mr. Smith inquired.
"'Faunus Against Jacques Schnee.' How have you not heard of this?"
Mr. Smith stayed silent, not wanting to answer.
"You don't think this new FAJS organization will hurt our bottom line, will it?" Mr. Eugig pondered.
"I don't believe they will." Jacques began. "If the insight that Whitley has gathered from allies near and far is anything to go by, their numbers are few and their successes fewer."
Mr. Gogal asked the young executive, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you have a friend at Atlas Academy?"
"Indeed I have." Whitley answered, a confident smile forming. "Her name is Iris Khloris."
Mr. Smith blinked. "Iris? The painter?"
"The one who ran her mouth off?" Mr. Eugig interrogated.
"For better or worse, yes, she did curse during the reception for the charity concert and gala. And while her behavior can be seen as unrefined and rude, I would advise you to consider the position she was in." Whitley began. "She had worked on that painting for countless hours over the course of twenty eight days. Her entire career as an artist was on the verge of sinking, and the woman who insulted her work not only insulted the artist, but the subject matter as well.
"And for her shortcomings, I realize that the situation could easily have ended worse than it did. Iris could have attacked the woman who insulted her and her work, but she didn't. She held herself back from unnecessary violence. In the end, she was hailed as a hero, had her painting sell extraordinarily well, and even after taxes and giving the minimum of 25% of the profits to charity, had more than enough funds to not only pay off her debts, but to create the future she desires."
With this, Whitley took a few sips of water. Mr. Eugig gave a concerned glance at Jacques. "And you're not concerned about this relationship?"
"Why should I be? Iris has done no wrong in actions towards me or my family. And, to the best of my knowledge, she has politely declined to join the FAJS as a human ally."
"And how do you know this?"
Jacques nodded towards Whitley, who answered, "When the group was first forming, they interviewed random Atlas Academy students. Iris just happened to be one of them. She claimed that joining the FAJS would rob her peace of mind and take away from her valuable painting time, which to most people, would seem like a perfectly valid answer. What they do not know is that Iris is close friends with me, and to a lesser extent, my father. The community at large only knows that I was the commissioner and patron for her first masterpiece. They believe that our relationship was solely business and that we have had no further contact since the art auction.
"Fearing she would be judged as a hypocrite for being friends with both faunus and the Schnees, Iris decided to keep the latter secret from society."
Several of the businessmen looked alarmed, but it was Mr. Gogal that asked, "She's friends with a faunus?"
"Several I believe. The first example that comes to mind is Chloe Celandine, and I believe that may be mostly because she knew her younger sister Mindy all too well- may she rest in peace."
"Chloe Celandine…" Mr. Dudley began. "Iris must be either really brave or really foolish. Or perhaps both."
Mr. Gogal remarked, "I'd say the former, as Iris has already shown courage numerous times. Case in point, the SDC Charity Gala."
"You don't think that FAJS or the community at large will discover Iris' ruse, will they?" Mr. Eugig asked.
The youngest one smirked. "They don't know anything, and most likely they never will."
At that moment, a rolling cart with several plates hidden with cloches came forth, pushed by a male server.
"Presenting your second course, the smoked trout croquettes."
The water waiter and the new server passed out the plates, lifting the cloches after they were set down.
Mr. Gogal smiled in approval. "Oh, these look divine."
"Has there ever been a course served at the Golden Horn that has been a disappointment?" Mr. Eugig asked.
"Such things don't exist." Mr. Bayard remarked as his plate was set before him. "Thank you, good sir."
"Is there anything else you need, gentlemen?" the second waiter asked.
"Everything is perfect. You may go." Jacques dismissed him.
With the cloche lids on the cart, the second waiter left as the men started eating.
Weiss willed the scene to disappear, turning even further from her summoned companion.
"And what have I learned here? Nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing of any real importance anyway… All I've learned is that my brother is a lying little bastard. He has his muse and all his new business friends… and I have no one."
The fallen heiress closed her eyes, tears of loneliness falling.
Author's Notes;
-Truth be told, I actually got done writing this chapter before the previous one. Anyway, things are beginning to heat up with Athena's new determination, Lionheart under pressure and Weiss becoming even lonelier than ever. What happens next? Stay tuned!
Also… for your fun fact of the day, I will list the business position acronyms shown on the name plaques (in case you didn't know);
CEO- Chief Executive Officer
VP- Vice President
CFO- Chief Financial Officer
CAO- Chief Administrative Officer
CIO- Chief Information Officer
CMO- Chief Marketing Officer
(You're welcome.)