Eleanor Hume went on the offensive with a flurry of blows, her spear darting left and right to try to break her opponent's defence. The thrusts were parried, but her foe was nonetheless forced to take a step back. Capitalising on her momentum, the renegade exorcist pressed the attack, taking full advantage of her longer reach. Quick jabs without overextending, never attacking the same spot twice to keep her opponent guessing, all while remaining mindful of her steps in the snowy grounds, and not letting her current advantage disturb her heart.
Control your feelings to control the flow of battle.
Yet it was hard to entirely suppress a pang of elation when one her blows almost made it through. That small instant was her undoing. With a flick of her blade, her opponent slightly deflected the tip of the spear, and with a flash of light became a blur, too fast for Eleanor's eyes to follow. She did manage to block a body blow in the nick of time, only for her feet to be kicked from under her, sending her tumbling on the steel floor, the impact barely softened by the thin layer of snow.
Before the red-headed spearwoman could get up, she found herself with the tip of a blade threatening her throat. Eleanor could only sigh.
"The match is yours."
If Winter Schnee felt any satisfaction at her victory, she showed no sign of it, instead extending a hand to the fallen exorcist, just as the remnants of the speed glyph she just used to end their sparring session vanished into thin air.
"Well fought. If not for my Semblance, the outcome might have been different."
Still short on breath, Eleanor grabbed the offered hand, pulling herself up before dusting herself off. The morning had been an exercise in humility, several sparring sessions with the Atlesian operative all ending in the same way. Winter Schnee had impeccable swordplay, an incredibly versatile semblance and a cool mindset allowing her to keep calm under pressure.
By contrast, Eleanor felt crippled. Without Laphicet, Bienfu or any other malakhim to bond with, the former exorcist had not only lost any access to her malak artes, but even her physical abilities felt diminished. It was common knowledge that someone with no malak was no match for daemons - with a handful of exceptions, like the legate Shigure Rangetsu - and she was acutely feeling that loss.
Apparently, Winter had felt it too. She had made a comment on her aura - a term those in this world used to describe the power found within all souls - seemingly being only half-awakened. One part of Eleanor was intrigued by the notion ; she was always taught that her powers as an exorcist came from her bonds with malakhim, but the Atlesian operative had implied at least some of it came from herself. Another, more childish voice that Eleanor did her best to suppress, couldn't help but complain at the unfairness of the situation.
"Fairness has no place on the battlefield. One must simply use the tools at their disposal."
Even now, she could still hear Shepherd Artorius' admonishments. She might have broken off with the Abbey, but she could still find value in his teachings.
She gave Winter Schnee a self-deprecating smile. "Thank you for the spar. It seems I still have a long way to go."
The white haired soldier hummed in response. "You are improving. Your condition is… peculiar, but I believe your body is adapting. Given time, I'm confident you'll end up awakening your aura in full, as long as you remain diligent."
"Well," answered the red-headed exorcist, "it's not like I have much else to do." She tried to affect a light tone, but couldn't quite suppress a small note of resentment in her voice. She understood why the Atlesian leadership was cautious, truly she did. But not being able to leave the floating city to search for her companions was frustrating. She could do little other than train, read about this new world, and worry about her friends.
The Atlesian operative had the good grace of looking contrite. "I know being confined to the city is hardly ideal. I've been talking with General Ironwood about bringing you for a few missions. If it goes well," she hesitated for a couple of seconds, "I believe it would be enough to convince him to raise most of the restrictions surrounding your stay."
Most, not all. Eleanor let out a sigh. This was still progress, she supposed. The two women eventually left the chilly atmosphere of the training platform, and walked side by side through the long hallways, white and grey walls illuminated by blue lights. Winter was eventually the first to break the silence.
"Are you getting used to Atlas Academy?"
Eleanor gave her a sheepish smile. "Well, it's certainly been… an experience."
In more ways than one, Atlas felt like a strange place for Eleanor.
That some aspects of it would be challenging was obvious. Eleanor Hume was in a city floating in the sky. That alone would be enough to give her pause, not to mention all the unfamiliar devices she kept stumbling upon. Flying ships. Men of metal. There were a thousand new things to discover, and Eleanor had trouble wrapping her head around most of them.
But what disturbed her the most was how familiar Atlas was to the renegade exorcist despite all of this. Technology might have marched on, but any exorcist's trainee would have felt at home in Atlas military academy. Even as an outsider, Eleanor could recognize all the things she had left behind since the day she fell into the orbit of Velvet Crowe.
It wasn't just the strangely similar aesthetics – though the Atlas white and grey uniform she was currently wearing wasn't all that different from her old praetor outfit. But discipline born from a sense of duty. Confidence towards a distant, yet fair leadership. Fellowship between men and women fighting to save the world. The atmosphere in the Atlas Academy was no different than the one in Lothringen Tower. Ironwood's soldiers were as devoted in their missions as any exorcist she knew. Even their goals seemed eerily similar : protecting humanity from the daemon-like Grimm.
To an extent, the praetor exorcist had missed that atmosphere. That purity of purpose.
Which was why she couldn't allow herself to let her guard down. Her unconditional faith in the Abbey had made her blind to its flaws. From the outside, the Atlesian military seemed just as immaculate as the Abbey had appeared to be; Eleanor could only hope that this wasn't just a facade. But until she knew for sure, she'd keep her eyes and ears open.
Once burned, twice shy, after all.
For now, she had little choice but to play nice, though. She was a stranger in a strange land, and the Atlesians had been polite - if suspicious - hosts so far. Truth be told, they had let her have more freedom than what she would have expected - the Empyreans knew the Abbey would probably have been way more strict with a potential threat.
Was it a sign that Atlas was more even-handed? Or perhaps more secure in their power? She'll learn soon enough.
At the very least, Winter Schnee had proven to be pleasant company, if not of a particularly expansive mood. She might be her custodian - though her position meant she often had to delegate that duty - but Eleanor had learned to appreciate her company. Even if the spars never failed to bruise her body and her ego.
She decided to change the conversation toward a lighter topic. "So, any news of your sister?"
Winter did not often smile, but mentioning her sibling seemed to be a soft spot for her. "She's settling in at Beacon Academy. She's now waiting for the teams to be announced. From what she tells me, she's already aiming at becoming its leader." The white haired woman couldn't help but sigh. "Honestly, I worry that she might push herself too hard."
Eleanor couldn't help but laugh. "From what you told me, she certainly seems driven."
"That she is." Winter turned her eyes toward her. "Do you have any siblings?"
"Ah, no, I-" The red-haired exorcist swallowed her discomfort. "-I'm an only child. Then again…" The image of a smiling Laphicet came to her mind, "there is someone I came to consider my little brother. I can only hope he's alright."
In a rare display of support, Winter put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure-"
Whatever she was about to say was cut by a beeping sound coming from her wrist. The Atlesian operator frowned as the screen of her electronic scroll lit up, reading the message she just received.
Finally, she turned back to Eleanor. "Well, you might receive your first chance at stepping outside the Academy. The general is calling us."
"Thank you for coming. We have an emergency down in Mantle."
James Ironwood stood at the center of his office, a grim expression on his face as he looked at each person in attendance. Aside from Eleanor and Winter, a team of five huntsmen stood at attention. From what she had been told, those five men and women were known through Atlas as Ironwood's elite taskforce, underlining the seriousness of the situation.
"We received an emergency report coming from the Schnee Dust Company mine 4 six hours ago." Eleanor's gaze fell on the woman next to her. Schnee? Winter's face remained expressionless. "A first investigation team reported destroyed military mechs and missing shipments. We lost contact with them soon after."
Well that certainly sounded bad. The leader of the Atlesian operatives, a tall man with short brown hair - Clover Ebi, her memory supplied - raised an eyebrow. "Any suspected culprit?"
Ironwood shook his head. "The situation is unclear. It could be local malcontents, or some Grimm creatures might have found a way to the mine. Our services also tell us that there are possible White Fang operatives currently in Mantle."
Eleanor blinked. White Fang?
Sensing her confusion, Winter provided a short explanation. "An anti-Atlesian extremist group. We'll talk more about it later."
One member of the Ace Ops – Marlowe? - looked about to say more, but a glance from one of his teammates seemingly convinced him to drop the matter. The Atlesian general continued, both hands behind his back.
"Specialist Schnee is in command of this operation. Find out what happened, and eliminate the threat. Any questions?"
A short, dark-skinned girl with shaved brown hair on the side and a lock of platinum hair in the center, raised a hand, before turning her head toward Eleanor. "Any reason for the new girl to come?"
Several of her teammates looked uncomfortable at the blunt remark, but Winter Schnee took it in stride. "We've decided to give Miss Hume a chance to prove herself. She will remain under my supervision during the mission. I trust this won't be a problem?"
The girl still seemed doubtful, but nodded nonetheless. Their team leader eventually broke the tension with an easy smile. "Well if it's fine with Specialist Schnee, it's fine with me. When do we leave?"
"Immediately," answered Ironwood. "A ship is waiting for you on platform 15. I'm counting on you all. Dismissed!"
Several 'yes sir!' echoed through the office. Eleanor followed suit, not letting her apprehension show on her face. There was nothing strange about feeling nervous at the prospect of fighting in an unknown land among unknown people, all while being weakened by Laphicet's absence. Yet her unease seemed to have deeper roots.
As a praetor exorcist, Eleanor had led her fair share of operations against pirates and bandits. And at the time, she had carried those with almost the same zeal as her battles against daemons. She was fighting for the greater good, after all. But her experience among the Van Eltia crew made her realise things rarely were so simple.
And now her first mission in Atlas potentially involved 'local malcontents' or 'extremist groups'. And she had no way to know the truth of the matter, besides trusting the words of those around her. She didn't believe Winter Schnee to be a deceitful person, but her sense of duty might blind her to certain truths.
It certainly had blinded Eleanor back then.
With a silent sigh, the red-headed exorcist steeled herself for the coming mission. She could only hope that nothing but Grimm awaited under Mantle. Monsters she knew how to deal with.
"Cargo is secure. Should we keep going?"
Several faunus in grey and white uniforms and white masks turned toward their leader, awaiting his instructions.
"Let's continue. We should have a little more time before the Schnee puppets make their move, and we'll need as much dust as possible."
One of his subordinates frowned. "Plans say the area ahead should be heavily fortified. Several military mechs, at least."
"Well then." The masked leader turned toward someone standing at the back of their group. "Time to earn your keep, Reaper."
As his only answer, the blonde man in a black coat flipped a gold coin, before frowning at the result. He had a bad feeling about this.
Notes: so, still not dead. It took forever to get there, but I have too many ideas for Atlas to just give up on it. Next chapter should follow up shortly. Definitely grateful for anyone still following this!