"So Inkanus was slain by Oswyn the Old, who had a really big sword called Justifier?" Yang asked and Jaune nodded.
"That's right."
"You…don't happen to know this Oswyn person personally right?" Yang asked nervously, and Jaune gave her a curious look. "He sounds scary."
Scary?! Who would think Oswyn the Old was scary? He was one of the greatest dragon slayers-ohh…
"Don't worry about old Oswyn!" Jaune said, turning to Yang suddenly and making her jump. "He died hundreds of years ago. Besides, I doubt he would hurt you."
"I'm a dragon Jaune." Yang smiled. "A very well hidden one yes but a dragon nonetheless. Why wouldn't he kill me?"
'Good point. Think Jaune think!'
"Because…Well, you're a good person. I think so at least. You haven't killed me or anything and you haven't done any other dragon-like thing such as burning down a city." Jaune replied, doing his best to sound confident. "Besides, if Oswyn did try coming back from the dead just to try something, I'd protect you."
"Protect me?" Yang retorted, raising a brow and smiling. "You?"
"Yeah!" Jaune protested. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Well you didn't kill me yesterday." Yang explained, before cocking her head and frowning in a deep-in-thought way. "Then again I don't see why I'm complaining about that actually."
They walked on in silence after that until they reached the river. The waters had fallen, having risen higher due to rainfall, and they plodded across it, getting their feet and ankles wet. Yang stumbled on a loose rock and nearly brought them both tumbling down as she yelped and grabbed him for balance. Fortunately Jaune managed to stay on his feet and after that their journey continued without hindrance, though Yang was clearly embarrassed by the incident.
"Jaune?" Yang asked and he turned to face her. She was staring at the ground, her hair falling over her face so he couldn't see it.
"Yes Yang?" He replied, concealing his worry. She sounded upset. Or worried.
"What are we doing?" Yang said, and he blinked.
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"So, we find this shepherd and find me some clothes. Then what? How do you explain finding me? What do we tell Ruby? What if she recognises me?" Her voice became increasingly hysterical as she spoke, and Jaune raised his hands to placate her before he realised she may not be able to see because of the curtain of hair covering her face. He tentatively reached out and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.
"Let's take this one step at a time so it's easier for us to formulate a good plan, okay?" He said softly, and he saw her untense slightly.
"Okay." Yang replied quietly, and when she said nothing else he realised she wanted him to take the lead.
"Okay. So, I'll tell the shepherd I couldn't find the dragon, but I did find you and then I'll ask to borrow some clothes for you."
"What if he asks questions about how we met and stuff?"
"Then we'll just say I found you in a cave and we can say that you…you…you were forced to run away from your home because of a bandit raid!"
"Really?"
"No, not really Yang. It's just pretend so he doesn't know the truth."
"I'm not that stupid Jaune. I mean really as in how does that explain my lack of clothing in the first place?"
"Erm…you were getting dressed but the bandits attacked so you didn't finish."
"Seriously?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
"Fair point. What next then? I have clothes, you have clothes and hopefully he'll have clothes. What happens after that?"
"Well…I suppose we just stick to the same story. But we'll have to make it clear you have nowhere else to go if we are going to be able to convince Ruby and Blake that you can join our party."
"Your party?"
"Yeah. Every great adventurer has a party. A knight, a ninja, a mage and a scout. Not exactly sure we tick all those boxes, but with you we'll be able to at least have four members."
The conversation died down after that. Jaune wasn't sure how much longer it would take to reach the shepherd's house, and he felt a little awkward due to the seemingly sudden silence.
"Are you okay with meeting Ruby?" He asked Yang, as they neared the bottom of a hill. There were dozens of the large mounds of dirt between them and the shepherd's home, and they were only going to make their journey unnecessarily difficult.
"W-What do you mean?" Yang replied, the hitch in her voice telling him he'd caught her off guard. It hadn't been what he'd meant to do, but if it meant her answer would be honest then oh well.
Though to be fair to Yang it seemed like she had been entirely honest with him so far. She'd told him how she knew Ruby, revealed herself as a dragon-human thing, and unless she was incredibly good at hiding lies then he didn't detect her telling any either.
He wasn't complaining. It was a refreshing change of pace, especially from his experiences as a child growing up in King Schnee's court, where lies had been told more freely than the truth and honesty was seen as a sin rather than a virtue.
"You didn't exactly leave on friendly terms." Jaune explained. "And the whole plan banks on her not recognising you. But are you okay with meeting her? Being friendly with her after what happened?"
Yang was silent for a while, though her face was troubled and her frown prominent.
"I don't know." Yang answered quietly, honestly. "But I suppose we'll have to find out won't we? I won't go all burny though. That would just prove her right."
Jaune relaxed as she confirmed she wouldn't be doing the thing that he had subconsciously feared she may do. He didn't really think she was the sort of person to lash out at innocent people, but he did not know her well enough to risk that, especially considering she had the potential to burn down entire cities.
"Is that why you asked me? It wasn't me by the way." Yang continued, pointing upwards. He frowned and followed her finger to the plume of dark smoke rising into the air ahead of them. It was worrying how big it was, far larger and violently darker than the lazy grey smoke from the shepherd's chimney. It was almost as if a bonfire had been lit, or a forest fire, though there weren't any forests nearby. In fact, it almost reminded him of the smoking remains of the buildings destroyed by the dragon attack on Nördliche Burg…
He resisted the urge to glance at Yang. She said it hadn't been her and she had been with him the entire time.
'The entire time he was conscious.' His traitorous mind supplied unhelpfully. He shook his head of any suspicions that tried to root themselves down there. He did not know her well but considering she hadn't killed him immediately and had gone so far as to cut off her own scale for him he didn't doubt she was a good person, or at least one with honour. She wouldn't burn things in an emotional outburst.
"Let's hurry." Jaune said urgently, picking up the pace. Yang managed to keep up, though she seemed to struggle slightly, like his younger sisters had done when they learned how to walk for the first time. It slowed their pace slightly, but they ended up being quicker than he had when he had left the shepherd and followed his directions in search of a dragon.
He grunted as he finally crested the final hill that not so long ago, he'd been hastily clambering down. The smoke had gotten larger as he neared its source and his worry had grown with it. He refused to believe something bad had happened, but he couldn't say that with confidence.
Jaune gasped as the little valley came into view. Where before there had been a peaceful, tranquil little valley there was now the site of a brutal murder, a massacre. The little stream was red with blood and bloated with floating guts. On either side of the bank were the corpses of sheep and the form of tinier sheep, little lambs. Their white wool was stained red and entrails led from their stomachs to the tainted water. Strewn across the valley were the bodies of the sheep that had earlier been wandering freely, grazing on the grass without a care in the world.
Instead of a little brown hut nestled against a cliff face there was a pile of charred timbers and two bodies outside it. One human sized and one smaller, furrier.
"Jaune?" Yang gasped, eyes wide as she surveyed the carnage next to him. "What happened?"
Jaune didn't reply. He was too focused on the bodies outside the ruins of the hut where he had sat down and drank Highlow mere hours ago, where he had talked and bonded with a mere stranger who had decided to trust him.
He raced down the hill. He heard Yang say something but he wasn't listening. All of his focus, all of his entire being, was pinpointed and directed towards the bodies. He slipped and fell and at the bottom he tripped on the blood of a dead sheep but he didn't care. His impromptu race ended when he fell to his feet near the bodies, stomach roiling at the sheer horror displayed before him.
The old shepherd's face was contorted into one of pain. His braided beard had been cut off and tied in a necklace around his head, his face littered with little cuts from the clearly uncaring, painful sheering. His legs had been broken and his arms had been cut out of their sockets.
The Atlesian tribesmen believed in an afterlife where the state of your body upon your death would be the body you inherited there. The only way to avoid this was to die with a sword in hand. The old shepherd's final moments had only been all the more painful with the knowledge he'd be entering the afterlife with a broken, humiliated, desecrated body.
Jaune refused to look over at the dog. He could remember it yipping, its tongue lolling out as he scratched it's belly as gently as he could.
It didn't have a tongue now.
Jaune looked at the ruined timbers of the house. One of the shepherd's arms had been arranged to point eastwards, where if he walked far enough he'd stumble across the Great Ice Plains. The other had been propped up against a blackened piece of timber. All its fingers had been cut off except for the middle one, which had been propped up against the wood and taunted him.
Eastwards. Whoever did this wanted him to go eastwards.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. He moved quickly, drawing his sword and lashing downwards in a savage strike that would cleave whoever had attacked him in two. If it didn't work the first time then he'd keep on slashing until their body wouldn't even resemble a corpse for what they did to the shepherd.
Whoever it was caught his sword. His bloodlust faded and his eyes widened as he saw Yang there, wincing in pain as his sword dug into her arm, her other hand gripping his wrist to stop him lopping it off.
"Y-Yang…" He stammered, dropping his sword and stumbling away. "I didn't…I thought…"
"It's okay." Yang replied calmly, pointing at the red line where his sword had brushed against her skin. "You didn't even cut me and I did startle you. Just calm down Jaune."
"C-Calm?!" Jaune yelled, emotions bursting. He was angry, sad, worried, tired and above all guilty. He didn't know who had done this, but he did know that whoever had had done it because of him. They'd followed him there and the shepherd had been murdered for it. "You want me to be calm?! I'm the reason he's dead! It's my fault!"
"Did you kill him?" Yang retorted, still calm though clearly responding to his outburst.
"Yes! I as good as did!" Jaune replied. "I found him! I led whoever did this here! It's my fault!"
He couldn't be angry anymore. He didn't have the energy or strength for it. He started sobbing, barely being able to stand on his own feet.
"It's all my fault." He moaned, tears falling freely. "If it wasn't for me then everyone would be happier. Weiss wouldn't be forced to protect me and risk her future with Nikos, Ruby wouldn't have nearly died taking me to Snowmire, Blake wouldn't have been ambushed by Tyrian, the shepherd wouldn't have died and you wouldn't be here, wouldn't be at the sight of a massacre and wouldn't be lugged with me."
He stared at the ground. It was the only thing he could look at. He couldn't look at Yang, the look on her face once she realised the truth of his words. He couldn't look at the bodies, the clear evidence showing he was nothing but a curse for the people he came into contact with. So he stared at the ground. At the dirt. Where he belonged.
He felt a hand on his cheek. It was warm and soft but firm, an unyielding strength underneath a gentle touch. It was smooth with few callouses. Another gently gripped his chin and pulled his head up, forcing him to face Yang.
She wasn't accusing. She wasn't angry. She didn't seem angry at the realisation he was a burden for her. Her face was soft, sympathetic and warm. There was a fire behind her lilac eyes, a clear determination that made him blink and his tears stop for a moment.
"I can't confirm or deny the other things because I don't know what they are." Yang said, voice soft but clear. "But I am not lugged with you. You are the single best thing to happen to me in years."
His breath hitched at the steadfast clarity with which she said those words. There was no doubt. No second guessing or hesitation or anything. She said them, and she said them in such a way that it was clear she believed them.
"I've been either hunted by your kind or driven away by mine ever since my own sister killed my mother and drove me from my home." Yang continued steadfastly. "I was starving when you found me. The few fish I managed to catch wasn't enough to sustain me. I was weak, just waiting for death. But then you came. You came and instead of killing the weak, defenceless dragon like you should've done you fed it. You helped me and I helped you."
She paused, fingers idly wiping away his tears whilst she did so. Her eyes never left his though and the sheer intensity of her gaze was magnetic, forcing him to meet it and not look away.
"You've given me a chance to see the person my sister has become. For me to learn what sort of person she is and whether there is any chance I can reconcile with her at some point. W-When you held me I felt safer than I had been since I was in my mother's lair." She said, facing heating up slightly at the last part. Jaune could feel his own doing the same. "So no Jaune. I'm not lugged with you. You are lugged with me. And I'll be damned if I let you believe otherwise."
She was panting slightly as she finished, and she looked away quickly, face turning red. Her hands fell to her sides, and he immediately missed the warmth and comfort they had given him. They stood in silence for a few minutes, both embarrassed and unsure what to say or do next.
"Thank you." Jaune murmured quietly as the silence dragged on. "I-I'm sorry for being an idiot."
"You are forgiven for being an idiot." Yang grinned, before her eyes glanced to her left towards the bodies and her face became serious. "What do we do now?"
"Go look through the rubble and see if there are any clothes you can use that somehow survived." Jaune said after a moment's thought. "I'll bury the bodies in the meantime. After that we'll…"
"We'll?" Yang prompted after he trailed off.
"I want to avenge them." He said quietly. "Will you…will you help me do that?"
Yang grinned savagely, taking him by surprise for a moment before he settled.
"Gladly." Yang replied, a savage smile still on her face and if he was in a caring mood he would almost feel sorry for the poor bastards who seemed to have stoked her rage.
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It cringed away from the surge of emotion. Before it had been feasting on the boy's succulent turbulence, only for the beautifully harsh taste to become washed away by the tide of warmth from the dragon. It resisted the urge to hiss, and it didn't because it wasn't weak.
It had watched the bandits take whatever trinkets they could find. Then it had smelled the boy, returning from his foray into the hills.
It had wanted the boy's anger. It's rage and the guilt that would come afterwards. That was why it had slaughtered the shepherd. That was why it had slaughtered its sheep and furry companion, why it had desecrated the bodies to make sure the pain of their deaths would hurt the boy the most.
The boy was supposed to go running off after the bandits, slaughter them, then drown in his own guilt afterwards, not whatever this was.
It growled at the dragon. How it couldn't detect its presence it didn't know. But it did not want to wait around for the dragon to eventually do so. It slunk away, deeper into the hills until it could no longer see the boy, only feel his distant, roiling emotions.
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"How much further?"
"Too much if we stop for another break Blake!"
"If we get there exhausted then we won't be able to help whoever's in trouble!"
"And if we don't get there quick enough then whoever is down there might die! What if it's Jaune?"
"That won't change the fact we can't help if we're half dead Ruby!"
"I don't care! I won't just abandon my friends because I'm tired!"
"Gods dammit! Ruby slow down!"
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Yang watched Jaune as he set about preparing the body of the shepherd and his canine companion. It was a macabre sight, but she was curious at witnessing a human burial ritual first hand. She didn't think dragons had one, and if they did her mother had died before she'd been able to tell her. Then again dragons were the solitary type. The only other person allowed in their nest was their mate and the young they shared until the young grew up and had to be driven away.
That wasn't the only reason she was watching. Yang remembered the look in his eyes. It was the same one her father had whenever he would disappear into the darkest recesses of her mother's nest whilst said mother was away. He would always return pale faced and with a sharp object, whether that be a golden trinket or broken mirror shard, shaking in his hand.
Her father never hurt himself like that, not from what she could remember. She was glad he didn't, but it had given her the knowledge she needed to know when to worry about someone contemplating something like that. And Jaune…
If what he had told her at the waterfall was true then he'd had a rough few months to say the least. Not to mention he would now have to deal with the repercussions of everything they had discussed.
Yang blushed at that, feeling she'd been a little too honest and begging earlier, but she forced herself back into serious mode. Jaune was in a rough place and they were at some sort of murder place, which wasn't good.
She turned away from Jaune and tentatively shifted through the blackened timbers of what had once been the shepherd's nest. A home. It wasn't much of anything now though.
Something caught Yang's eye. It was a small iron thing, in the middle of the debris. She pushed her way through the wood towards it, forcing the blackened timbers aside until she reached it. Her fingers brushed over it tentatively. When nothing adverse happened, she pulled on it.
Ash, splinters of burnt wood and dark debris flew in her face as a burnt piece of wood popped out on hinges. She growled and wiped her face before looking inside the hole in the ground.
Inside was a chest. A very, very secure, solid looking thing.
Her inner dragon licked its lips. Would there be gold? Family heirlooms? Long lost treasure? An ancient artefact from a usurped royal family the shepherd was a secret loyalist of? She just had to know.
Yang reached in and pulled the chest out. It made her grunt with surprise due to its heftiness, and that only stoked her inner dragon's curiosity even more. What could make it so heavy?
The chest thunked loudly, and she heard Jaune jump with surprise. If her focus wasn't dead set on the contents within, she may have laughed at his reaction. Instead her hand fell to the heavy lock that kept the snake like chains wrapped around the chest intact. She felt it for a moment, testing its heft, before ripping it off in a single savage tug. The chains slid off the chest and she grinned as she heard the shovel Jaune had found hit the ground.
She pulled the chest open, straining for a moment before realising its inner lock was still locked. So instead of lightly pushing she ripped again, tearing off the top of the chest.
She peered inside eagerly, before cocking her head at the trinkets and papers within. None of them were particularly valuable. What did catch her attention was the woollen shawl and yellow dress inside. She took both out and rested them on her lap, glad to finally have found some clothes. The papers had scribbles on them, writing if she remembered right, but her father hadn't taught her much so she couldn't make heads or tails of what it meant.
"I found clothes." She told Jaune, who was watching her with a gobsmacked expression that made her preen a little.
"C-Cool." He replied, stammering before coughing and gesturing to his side. "I'll turn around and finish this whilst you get dressed. Then we can talk okay?"
"Okay." Yang shrugged, watching as he turned around. She waited for a minute to make sure he stuck to his word and resisted the urge to snort when he did so. A beautiful girl getting changed behind him but he doesn't peek? He better not be celibate after going ahead and being all nice and gallant and…
Yang slapped herself to shake herself from her stupid delusions. It was fine thinking he was handsome, that was true after all. It was fine thinking he was a good person, that was also true. It was fine thinking he was an idiot for not trying to sneak a peek at the best thing to happen to him ever, because that was also true.
What was not fine was thinking stupid thoughts beginning with 'L' and ending in 'disaster waiting to happen'. She wasn't a princess from her dad's stories, she was the dragon for crying out loud! She wasn't going to be stupid and fall for the first person to be nice to her because that was probably how he was around everyone. If she wanted a mate then it would be the best of the best, someone who would earn it. Jaune was nice, but he wasn't mate material. Not yet at least.
"Don't even know what I want for a mate." Yang grumbled as she fiddled with the dress, trying to pull it over her head after taking off the shirt Jaune had given her. She froze for a moment, glancing over at Jaune to see if he heard her. He made no indication of doing so, and after a few tense moments where Yang berated herself more fiercely than her mother ever had, she realised she was safe and finished up tying the knots on her dress. Fortunately for her, the dress fit well, not too tight and not too loose. Her only complaint was the long skirt length. It would hinder her in a fight, but it was a necessity since she didn't have underwear and she didn't fancy flashing her opponent.
An idea sprang to mind. She had two problems. Long skirt and no underwear. What if she could solve those in one fell swoop?
"Jaune?"
"Yeah?"
"What's the human saying about birds and stones?"
"Erm…hitting two birds with one stone?"
"Cool. Thanks. Don't turn around yet."
"I'm not!"
She rolled her eyes at his fierce protest. Honestly she was starting to think he was trying to protect his own innocence more than her own at this point. She shrugged and focused on tearing away at her skirt until it went up to her knee. Just enough to prevent Jaune from passing out at the sight of her.
She snorted at the thought and went about fashioning a sort of clothing that might serve as underwear. It wasn't exactly nice but it was better than nothing.
Once that was done she stared at the shirt Jaune had given her. It was dirty, well-used and she had absolutely no idea what to do with it. Would Jaune want it back?
She clutched it closer to her chest at the thought of losing it. It looked, well it was, little more than a dirty rag. But to her it was a gift. A precious one. It was something given to her freely. Freely. No strings attached. No demands. A free, generous gift for her.
It had been Jaune's. But he'd given it to her so it was hers now. Whoever tried taking it from her would suffer. What exactly she wasn't sure of herself, but they would suffer nonetheless.
She pulled the shirt over her new dress and shifted until she felt comfortable. Then she turned to face Jaune, who was still looking in the other direction, which was absolutely adorable.
"I'm decent." Yang said and Jaune turned around. "What do you think?"
She did a brief twirl just to see his reaction, and she was well rewarded with a blush combined with stammering and eyes that were wide and nervous.
"Y-You look good." Jaune replied. It wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, but it was spoken so sincerely and honestly that Yang forgave him for not using elaborate poetry to describe her beauty.
"I-I know." She coughed, trying to force her blood away from her quickly reddening cheeks. She never understood why her Infiltrator body could behave so stupidly sometimes. "Are you done?"
"Yeah." Jaune said sadly, glancing at the mound of dirt. He'd found some stones that he had piled on top of one another. Curious. "Ready for that talk?"
"It's why I was asking if you were done." Yang replied and Jaune nodded before picking up the sword he'd dropped earlier and sheathing it.
"Well there's no point beating around the bush I guess." Jaune said, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Firstly, how strong are you? That chest looked heavy and you just straight up ripped it to pieces."
"I don't really know." Yang said, trying not to sound as unconfident as she felt. "I don't really know what is the normal strength for humans and dragons. I'm pretty sure only a little bit of my strength transfers from my Infiltrator form from my Armoured one."
"Infiltrator?" Jaune frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know. It's just the word that springs to mind to describe the form I'm in." Yang shrugged before gesturing to her body. "Same goes for Armoured, but then I have wings and stuff."
"If anyone asks then you are human." Jaune replied. "Your…armoured form is a dragon, though I'd recommend not telling anyone you can become that. Dragons don't have the best of reputations, and for good reason."
Yang nodded and shifted her foot through the debris shyly and a silence fell on the conversation. She felt berated for some reason, and Jaune seemed to look guilty at the harsher tone he'd adopted.
"Is that all you wanted to ask?" She questioned as the silence dragged on.
"No." Jaune replied, looking grateful for the conversation moving on and his tone considerably softer than it had been moments ago. "I was going to ask if you were sure you wanted to help me track down whoever did this, but after seeing you rip apart that chest I don't have many doubts about you not being able to handle yourself. Can swords and stuff hurt you?"
"I'm not really sure." Yang said, looking at the faded red line where Jaune's sword had dug into her arm earlier. "I think I should block them and stuff, but I don't think they'll be enough to kill me. If things get bad I'll just turn into my Armoured-my dragon form. You'd have to find food for me though so I'd have the energy to turn back again."
"Sounds good." Jaune nodded before sighing. "I think I have an idea who did this but I have no idea where to start."
"What about the tracks?" Yang asked, and Jaune gave her a curious look.
"What tracks?"
"I saw tracks heading out of the valley that way. Didn't you see them?"
"No."
"Come on. I'll show you."
She led Jaune towards the end of the valley, where green, grassy ground had been trampled by a large amount of footsteps. She wasn't sure how many there were, as they were all criss-crossing with one another in a way that suggested they'd come in the same way they had left. The tracks went straight for a while before they started to bend around the bottom of a hill.
The tracks led eastwards.
"Do you think it might be whoever did this?" Jaune asked quietly after staring at the tracks for a few moments. She shrugged.
"I doubt someone would kill all those sheep and arrange them like that if they were alone." Yang replied. "But I can't say for certain."
"We'll follow them." Jaune said suddenly, voice filled with a fiery determination.
"And what do we do when we find them?" Yang asked, raising a brow and cocking a hip. She was all for avenging the shepherd, there was no need to rip apart his body afterall. But even she would struggle to fight against however many attackers there were.
"We make them regret everything they've done that led them to this point." Jaune replied without a hint of hesitation, stomping off through the sludge caused by whoever had been there earlier. "You coming?"
"As if I wouldn't." Yang scoffed, quickly catching up to him and walk at his side as they followed the tracks towards the shepherd's murderers.
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Weiss sighed. She had been sat in Nördliche Burg's library for hours now, pouring over books and diaries written by her ancestors. She had been searching for anything that may have been written by King Slate, the fourth Atlesian King to have such a name but the first for Vale. He had been King of Atlas-Vale during the Great War. Although he had failed to defeat the Mistrali, she hoped that by learning his thoughts and strategies she could learn of what she had to do and what she should avoid. Which meant she would need more mages. King Slate seemed to believe they were being unfairly targeted by the Inquisition after he was forced to sign the Vytal Treaty. It was curious how a man who had once fiercely protested the persecution of magic users in Mistral would allow the same organisation that hunted them down free access into his own lands.
Diary keeping was a key part in what had allowed the Schnee to become the monarchs for two of the four kingdoms. As Nördliche Burg was deep in the snowy plains of central Atlas and protected by the Snow Mountains, it remained untouched by competing city states or tribes, something that had effected the more habitable coast and the Ice Plains where the tribes roamed and fought over lakes teaming with fish and water. The Schnee had benefited from their isolation, allowing her family to develop traditions and technology and prosper due to a lack of competition until they were strong enough to defeat their rivals and gradually take over and form what was now the Kingdom of Atlas.
By writing in diaries and journals, past Schnee monarchs could give advice to their predecessors on what to do and what not to do, as well as keeping a strong, long-running historical record. Whereas Vale, Mistral and Vacuo especially all had long periods of dark ages of unknown history, Atlas had a record running for nearly one thousand years thanks to her family, though it did mean it was highly focused on Nördliche Burg and the territories her family had gradually conquered.
Curiously enough, it seemed her family has some sort of unknown ace card as well. The diary she was currently reading apparently dated back to one thousand years before the foundation of the Historians Guild, making it anywhere between two thousand to one and a half thousand years old. She wore silk gloves as she sifted through the dusty tone. Whoever had written this had done so in a panicked state, and she pieced together words that were no longer used and words she could not translate whatsoever she realised the writer of the diary had done so during the Siege of the Snows.
The Siege of the Snows had been a coalition of the few towns and villages that also inhabited the sheltered, snowy plains Nördliche Burg rested on. Seeing the growing power of the Schnee, they had rallied together and laid siege to Nördliche Burg for an unknown amount of time in a last ditch attempt to stop Nördliche Burg growing anymore powerful. If they had succeeded, Atlesian history, and that of the world at large, could be significantly different.
They hadn't though. There was a word her ancestor had kept referring to, something that would be used as a last resort should conventional means, or so she believed it said, failed. 'Magicae hiemis'. Whatever it was it seemed to be powerful, as it had been frequently referenced and made clear it would be used if all else failed, but also uncontrollable, as her ancestor seemed reluctant to use it.
It was curious. But she still couldn't figure out what the blasted word actually meant. The diary entry seemed to spiral into nonsense, with take of storms and winds and snow so great it broke the besieging army. But that didn't make sense. There was no reference of any sort to winter at the time and the writer had explicitly stated that summer had began not much earlier, when they had bemoaned the fact 'the fields would remain unsown'. Which was another curious thing. It suggested the fields around Nördliche Burg had once been fertile and arable and not filled with snow and ice. So what had happened to cause such a drastic change?
She reread the prior entry. There had been numerous references to 'hiems' which had been Old Atlesian for 'winter' earlier in the entry, where the writer had reported on the rapid spread of disease and malnutrition during the winter months. She froze. 'hiems' for winter. 'Magicae hiemis'.
Magic winter. Magic of winter. No. The magic of winter.
But magic users had been persecuted in those days. Her family would not have dared use a mage as it would have cost them the support of their army, who had already been suffering under a long, brutal siege. But it was clear that...
The author of this diary was not a Schnee.
She flicked back to the very first page. Abaelder Novarkus Schnee. The first name was Low Atlesian. It meant Abelard. But no Schnee ever had a name in Low Atlesian, it would lower their standing and had been a clear convention in the family history, a tradition both unspoken and spoken loud and clear. She had believed Abaelder had been someone who had fought in the siege under the command of her ancestors, especially due to the middle name. The 'us' at the end of the middle name suggest he had been of another family, as it was a tradition at the time for those who were adopted into another household to be known by both their old and new family. For example this person was 'Abelard, of Novark, Schnee'.
She flicked through the diary from front to back once, then twice and then three times over. Finally, her eyes wide and her fingers and wrist aching, she gently put the book back down.
Abaelder had not been a Schnee, but had married one after the Siege of the Snows and had taken her last name, becoming Abealder, of Novark, Schnee.
The Schnee had numerous traditions. Every generation, one of their daughters would always be named Winter. It was supposed to be a homage to the environment of Atlas.
The magic of winter. One of her ancestors had harnessed the power of winter and the previous lords of Nördliche Burg had married her for it, taking her name and founding a dynasty that had last for a thousand years. They had ended the Siege of the Snows by bringing winter, by harnessing magic.
Her ancestors had been magic users.
Mind spinning, Weiss fled from the library and tracked down the one person she knew might have some answers to the millions of questions whirling in her mind.
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"Over there!"
"I…see…him…too…" Blake panted, hands on her hips as she leaned back with her eyes closed, facing the sky. "Let's just slow down for a few minutes, alright? I can't feel my legs."
"But he's right there Blake!" Ruby protested, but it was less fervent than her earlier ones.
"So we'll trail him. Slowly! He's clearly not in any trouble." Blake replied, gesturing to the distant blonde and his distant blonde companion.
"Yeah…" Ruby replied, voice trailing off as her eyes narrowed at the duo. Blake grinned tiredly.
"Jealous?" She teased, and Ruby gave her a look of such utter shock combined with disgust at the idea that Blake would've felt sorry for Jaune if it wasn't for his obvious crush on Queen Weiss.
"Ewwww! No it's not that." Ruby said, pausing for a minute as she surveyed their surroundings. "I…I just feel something."
"What do you mean?" Blake asked, using her Gambol Shroud for a crutch as extra support for her weary legs.
"I don't know." Ruby sighed. "It's hard to explain. I just feel…something nearby. It's not good."
"A dragon?" Blake prompted, making Ruby's frown deepen.
"Partly. It's faint though. But there's something else. Something…worse." Ruby replied darkly, and Blake felt a distant chill go down her spine with the sheer conviction with which Ruby said those words.
"What could be worse than a dragon?" Blake asked distantly, already thinking of some of the things she had done whilst travelling with Hazel, Tyrian and Watts. Thinking of the things she'd seen and participated in. Of the things she might still do.
"That's what worries me." Ruby said, hand falling to Crescent Rose's shaft. She seemed overly aware of everything and ready to spring into action. Then she sighed again and shook her head. "It's probably nothing. Remind me again why we shouldn't just go to Jaune?"
"Because we're tired. Because he doesn't need our help. Because we're curious about what he's doing with a strange blonde girl that looks like a female version of him?"
Ruby snorted before looking at the distant figures and shrugging.
"Good enough I guess. Ugh. I hate past me thinking she should run down a mountain." Ruby groaned. Blake put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a sympathetic look.
"If it makes things any easier, I hate past Ruby too." She said, making Ruby roll her eyes and shove Blake's hand off her shoulder.
"Come on. Even if we don't run across half a dozen hills to reach them I don't want to lose them because we're too slow."
With that Ruby picked up the pace slightly to something resembling a brisk walk. Blake sighed and followed, though not before surveying their surroundings first. Ruby wasn't the only one with a bad feeling, and considering Jaune was walking away from the distant smoke they had seen earlier Blake wasn't sure what to feel or make of that.
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Weiss sighed. It was cold in Old Bragrim's chambers, and that was somehow despite the fact her ancestors had hired a literal mage to make sure Nördliche Burg was warm. Then again, it wasn't like the old man wasn't a mage himself. But that raised the question of why he'd make his room so cold.
"Apologies for the wait Your Majesty." Bragrim said as he shuffled into the room, worn robes fluttering around his feet. "The war has disrupted our supply lines and made acquiring the necessary resources for my spells harder than they already were."
"It's no problem Bragrim." Weiss lied, trying to hide how affected she was at staying so long in his room. She was an Atlesian for crying out loud, yet somehow she felt more cold in this room than she ever had been when playing in the snow as a child!
"Good." Bragrim replied, with a smile that told her he'd seen through her lie. "At the very least I can say I managed to finally get my hands on some Toadwortabort. Now then, let's get down to business shall we?"
"If that's no bother." Weiss said awkwardly. As a Queen, she should be more assertive, but the one thing other than frugality that her father had taught her was to fear the power held by mages and other magic users.
"Not at all. Now I need to be detailed in what you want from me if I am to enact this spell successfully." Bragrim said, adopting a lecturing tone. "Magic is complex, and that is just for simple spells such as lighting candles. What you are asking of me is…unprecedented, at least for my recollection."
"Have you ever heard of the Siege of the Snows?" Weiss asked quietly, and she saw Bragrim raise a brow curiously.
"I have." He replied. "It was the battle that determined the fate of Atlas afterall. Your ancestors were besieged within this very castle by the combined might of all their rivals. After a decade, it seemed like they would finally win as the Schnee's resources ran dry, but before they could storm the castle a snowstorm caused disorganisation and massive casualties. Nördliche Burg was spared due to the heating system a mage had installed years earlier. The surviving besiegers were slain by a sally-out by the defenders that finally destroyed them and ended the siege."
Weiss nodded and moved to the window. It was the only source of light in the wizard's chosen residence in Nördliche Burg, and she stared out of it for a few moments before she decided to tell him.
"My ancestors caused the storm." Weiss said, and she heard Bragrim stumble and nearly drop his walking stick.
"P-Pardon?" The old wizard stammered, and if it was any other scenario then Weiss would've grinned at the thought of finally catching the old man off guard.
"My ancestors caused the storm. They could use magic." She elaborated, turning around to make sure Bragrim hadn't had a heart attack. "Why else do you think Nördliche Burg could be built, let alone survive, in one of the harshest parts of Atlas?"
"But you can't." He said, voice half accusing and half curious.
"I can't." Weiss nodded. "Neither can my sister. My mother couldn't either. No Schnee has been able to use magic for centuries."
"But how?" He murmured, as if he was voicing his thoughts aloud. "That shouldn't be possible. Magic doesn't just stop working."
"Doesn't it?" Weiss retorted. "What about the stories of Gagea the Mage? The stories of ancient noble families and their ability to create miracles? Why is it that only knights can be made from those same noble families?"
"What are you suggesting, Your Majesty?" Bragrim asked quietly and Weiss shrugged helplessly.
"I don't know." She replied. "All I know is that the number of magic users have been declining dramatically over the years. And that those numbers have been dropping significantly ever since Mistral adopted their Dark Goddess as their patron."
"The Inquisition." Bragrim murmured. "They hunt magic users, regardless of whether they have committed heresy or not. You don't think?"
"It could be a coincidence." Weiss answered honestly. "But it would be a very convenient coincidence would it not?"
"It would." Bragrim replied quietly, and Weiss couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking of all the colleagues he'd lost over the years due to the Inquisition's witch hunts.
"I've been reading everything I could get my hands on since the war with Mistral started." Weiss said once it was clear Bragrim had nothing else to say. "That led me to my family's journals. I was hoping to get tips from how King Slate handled the war."
"I wouldn't recommend that Your Majesty." Bragrim said, a small smile on his face. "He lost the last war."
"True." Weiss replied, resisting the urge to snort with amusement. "But that led me to other journals, and I managed to find one belonging to a Schnee who was alive during the Siege of the Snows."
"That was centuries ago!" Bragrim gasped and Weiss shrugged.
"The Schnee library is extensive and one of the most protected parts of Nördliche Burg apart from the Treasury and the Locker." Weiss replied. "But I found it, read it and began putting two and two together. The point I'm trying to reach is that I want you to scroll me, see if there are any magic abilities I can use to help you."
"Help me do what?" Bragrim asked curiously. Weiss grinned.
"Replicate the outcome of the Siege of the Snows of course." She explained, watching Bragrim's eyes widen and a similarly savage grin appear on his face. "I think it's time the Mistrali learnt what a true Atlesian winter feels like."
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Yang stopped suddenly. Jaune turned and gave her a curious look.
"What's wrong?" He asked, and she frowned and shook her head.
"I don't know. I smell something." Yang replied, sniffing the air before pointing to their right. "I think we need to go that way."
"I've been following your lead so far." Jaune shrugged, turning to walk where Yang had pointed. They followed the base of a hill round and on the other side they saw a wide, lazily flowing river. In the middle of the river was a small island, with a few small copse of trees spread across its bank with the river. Jaune could see a collection of rafts and canoes piled up against the sandy banks, and he figured that was how the inhabitants of the island would get to the river banks on days where the water was fast and flowing. He could distantly make out the figures who dwelled on the island, and he frowned at the familiar sight of ragtag armour and worn furs.
'Bandits.' He realised. The same bandits who he'd found at Snowmire's outpost, the small group of bandits John and his friend had been a part of. They had followed him to the shepherd and murdered him, tortured him for what Jaune had done to their friends.
"Come on." Jaune growled at Yang, feeling a familiar fury curling in his stomach. He didn't care how many there were. They were all going to die for what they had done.
He stormed across the banks of the river until he reached the ford leading to the island. The water was shallow and barely fell to the top of his feet. He unslung the shield from his back and held a hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it at any moment.
"If it isn't tall, rich and blonde." One of the bandits crowed as he neared, him and his brothers in plunder having gathered at the bank of the island upon his approach. "Come to bargain for your old friends' goods?"
"The shepherd. You did that?" Jaune asked through gritted teeth, stunned at the fact they were so open and accepting over what they had done.
"Course we did." The bandit snorted. "Now if you want the old man's stuff back your gonna have to trade-"
Whatever he said was cut off when Jaune drew his sword. The bandits reacted immediately. They hadn't expected him to want to fight, and many of them only had the tankards of mead they held for weapons.
"Easy! Don't do something stupid boy." The bandit spokesperson warned, though his threat was nullified by the fear in his eyes at the sight of the sun glinting off the fine, sharp edge of Jaune's sword.
There were a million things Jaune thought of, cool one-liners, defusing warnings that would de-escalate the situation. He didn't say anything. They didn't deserve words. For what they had done to the shepherd they had chosen steel.
His sword sang as he lunged forward, slashing horizontally. The bandit yelled and tried jumping back, only to be stopped by the press of bodies behind him. Jaune's sword struck true, cutting across the bandit's belly and causing his innards to spill out.
Most of the bandits turned to run. A pair of brave, likely stupid, bandits charged him with their tankards. He blocked one of them with his shield whilst his sword stabbed into the other's neck, spilling crimson blood. Jaune then pushed forward against the bandit he'd blocked, causing the drunk to yell as he lost balance and fell into the water, his head likely hitting one of the many rocks dotting the riverbed. Jaune slammed his shield straight down onto the man's exposed neck, crushing his adam's apple and making him gasp for air.
He heard Yang say something. She sounded frightened. He felt guilty for a moment, but the blood lust washed it away like it was a wave crashing against a beach. He wanted blood. He wanted justice.
Jaune strode forward and onto the bank of the island. The bandits were arming themselves but were disorganised in doing so. They were drunk, their leader had been gutted in front of them and their weapons were scattered amongst their tents, meaning that by the time one had managed to get their weapon a dozen others were still racing to get theirs. That was good for Jaune. It meant they would have to come at him one at a time.
He strode forward, taking his time to make sure they knew he was calm and completely unafraid of them despite their numbers. It worked. The few who had armed themselves were nervous, unsure of what to do.
One of them charged. Jaune blocked with his shield and hacked downwards with his sword. The bandit yelled as blood spurted out from the gaping wound in his leg, and Jaune shoved the man over onto his back whilst he struggled to regain a semblance of balance with his other leg.
Another bandit moved to help his friend, as did another. One was armed with a cheap looking sword that clearly hadn't been well maintained. The other had a poleaxe.
Jaune kicked the sword away from the wounded bandit and moved to engage his friends. The one with the sword swung wildly, and Jaune blocked it with his own blade. The weapons clanged together and he felt the vibrations shake up his arm. However, Jaune had a better weapon, better footing and a better grip. He managed to take the blow easily, whilst the bandit yelled and jumped backwards, sword nearly bouncing back into his own face.
The one with the poleaxe raised his weapon and swung downwards. Jaune shifted and raised his shield, squaring his feet and blocking the blow. He then rushed the poleaxe wielder, using his shield to push the poleaxe upwards and leave the bandit exposed. The bandit realised what was happening and tried pulling back, but Jaune was too quick and his sword sank into his neck, nearly cleaving the man's head clean off before the blade got wedged there.
He kicked the body downwards and slammed his foot onto its chest and tried yanking his sword out. However the blade was wedged deep somewhere and refused to budge. Behind him, he heard the sword wielder laugh and run towards him. Cursing under his breath Jaune turned to block the blow with his shield, but couldn't help but feel like he was too late as the sword began swinging towards his head.
Then a flash of yellow darted across his vision and he heard the sword wielder scream. Jaune froze and he felt his eyes widen as he saw Yang there, gripping the bandit's wrist in her own and crushing it. His eyes widened further when he realised the man's hand, sword still clutched in it, was hanging off from bloody tendons as Yang had actually eviscerated his wrist just by grabbing it.
"Rarrgh!" Yang yelled, swinging the man around by his crushed wrist and sending him spinning through the air into one of the trees. His back smashed against the wood with a sickening crack and Jaune saw his head jerk back in a disgusting, unnatural way.
He turned his attention to Yang, who was panting and glaring at the stunned crowd of bandits. She noticed his gaze and turned to face him, face shifting from a fierce glare that would put the fear of the Gods in an unbeliever to a vulnerable, scared look that shook away his own bloodlust slightly.
'She was worried about his reaction. That he'd reject her as just another violent, cruel dragon.' He realised. Despite not being fully himself, the urge to kill the bandits was still too strong for him to even consider that to not be the case, he recognised the need to assuage her worries.
With a final tug, he yanked his sword from the poleaxe wielder and nodded at her. Her eyes widened and she nodded back, a smirk stretching across her face. She shifted into some sort of fighting stance, arms raised and hands curled into fists and when her back brushed against his as they faced the ring of reorganising bandits he couldn't help but feel a powerful emotion sweep through him.
He wasn't sure what it was, but it was something comfortable, reassuring. She had his back and he would have hers.
The bandits, fuelled by the drinking and their own pathetic taunting of the duo, began to inch forward.
Jaune smiled savagely. They didn't stand a chance.
When one stepped too close for his liking, he sped forward, making the bandit jump with surprise at the sudden movement. He raised his weapon slightly but did not raise it fast enough nor close enough to anywhere it could have served as a defence. Jaune's sword sliced over the poorly placed weapon and he didn't wait for the body to hit the ground before moving on to his next target.
Yang was next to him, punching off a man's jaw with a single blow. The man's eyes widened and he fiddled with the dangling flesh for a few moments before his eyes rolled into the back of his skull as he either passed out from the shock or the pain. The other's near her tried backing away, but Yang was quicker than he was and significantly stronger, tearing through three of the bandits by the time he'd took down the bandit he'd targeted.
He moved on quickly, blocking a blow and countering quickly, darting through the gaps made by the stunned bandits and killing as if he was a sickle through a wheat field. He felt nothing but elation as he did it, adrenaline pumping and a savage, primitive feeling of victory spiking at every scream of pain he created as he killed another bandit.
He didn't care. Not then. He didn't care if they were other human beings with lives and dreams and stories and reasons why. To him they were nothing. They were thieves and murderers and rapists. They were dead the moment they chose their path, dead to the world, dead to him. He was only neutralising the threat they posed, like a gardener killing weeds.
A broken body flew into the corner of his vision and he turned to see Yang brawling her way towards him, punching and breaking and in one case head-butting. The results were always the same-a pile of growing bodies behind her rampage.
Something slammed into the back of his head, making him stumble. He swore when he realised he had ignored one of Klein's biggest lessons, to always stay in the fight, and had allowed himself to get distracted by the artful, brutal violence Yang was putting on display. He heard the bandits cheer as he stumbled, emboldened by the first sign of weakness they'd seen from their attackers.
Something slammed into his head again, and he let out a startled cry. He tried raising his shield but he was suddenly being swarmed, with swords and spears slamming into his body. They aimed poorly, always seeming to hit his armour, but one of the spears managed to slip inside the leather wraps and graze his side, making him scream as he felt the metal tip graze his bone.
Something heavy and painful slammed into the back of his leg, making him fall to his knees. He held out his shield and sword-wielding arm to steady himself so he didn't face plant, but he was left exposed on his hands and knees. He slashed out in front of him, swinging his sword horizontally and making the attackers in front of him jump back out of fear of getting their feet lopped off. But his attack didn't deter the ones behind him, and from the sweaty confines of his helmet he could see the shadows cast by the weapons they raised to finally strike him down.
Was this it? Was this how he died? So pathetically and stupidly?
"No!" Someone roared. Yang. He could feel the air change as she surged forward. He couldn't see her, but he could see the body parts and shadows as she fought to protect him. One of the bandits landed a lucky blow and she cried out, making his heart twinge with guilt and worry and his eye twitch with rage.
A second burst of energy surged through his dazed, bruised body. He wasn't going to just sit there and let them gang up on Yang. He roared and pushed himself to his feet, turning around and slashing at the first target he saw. The bandit fell with a cry and he pushed forward, raising his shield and using it as a battering ram to force the press of bandits to back away momentarily.
That moment was all Yang needed to stabilise, to plant her feet and eye up her next target. When they fought alone they were terrifying. But when they fought together Jaune couldn't help but feel like they were unstoppable.
The bandits screamed. The bandits cried. All the bandits bled. By the time they were finished they were caked in blood and surrounded by dismembered bodies and the stench of death.
"Holy…shit…" Jaune gasped, winded and tired from the fighting. The adrenaline faded quickly, leaving every part of his body aching and tired and sore. "We won…"
"I…never doubted…we would…" Yang panted back, before turning to give him what was supposed to be a teasing look that was ruined by the drying blood caking her face and clear exhaustion. "Did you?"
Jaune sighed and fell to his knees. He felt drowsy and tired. His side was sticky with blood and he remembered the blow he'd taken earlier.
"Maybe…a little." He managed to gasp out, before groaning and lazily fiddling with the leather straps of his armour for a few moments before Yang came over and helped him do it.
"Thanks."
"No problem." Yang grinned, then her eyes narrowed at the sight of his blood soaked right side. "Your bleeding!"
"I've had worse." Jaune joked weakly. "Can you stitch it up?"
"I-I don't know how." Yang stammered, eyes wide with fear. "Are you okay? Are you dying?"
"Not yet." Jaune replied, grimacing at the full blown panic on her face. "I'll be okay for a while. Let's get the blood off us then I'll think of something."
He wanted to protest as she pulled him into her arms like he was a blushing bride before he realised it was probably best not to argue with someone capable of carrying him like a baby despite his armour and had punched people's jaws off.
She carried him to the riverbank and they helped each other wash the blood off their faces and backs, where it was harder for them to reach themselves, and Yang's faint blush and embarrassment was slowly revealed at his now shirtless form, before becoming one of worry at the sight of his wound and the dried blood along his right side.
Jaune checked his wounds and was satisfied to see the blood had dried. It wasn't that bad, but if he wanted to prevent infection he'd have to stitch it up. The problem was that he couldn't because of its positioning, right underneath his right arm. It would be awkward at best and he didn't want to risk making it worse.
"Are you okay?" Jaune asked Yang, who shrugged.
"If you mean physically then just a few bruises." She replied, staring at his wound. "You?"
"I need you to find some clothes. Clean ones. Have a look in the tents and see if you can find a needle and thread" Jaune said, and she nodded before racing off. Whilst he waited he cleaned his sword and shield using his left arm, not wanting to disturb the wound on his side by using his right.
When Yang returned she dropped a pile of cloth stripes and a bunch of random objects.
"I don't know what a needle and thread is." Yang admitted, and he smiled at her embarrassed look for a moment before grinning and pulling out the very thing he asked for.
"See? You do." He said, showing her the needle and the thin, strong thread. "There's something else I need you to do now."
She stared at him curiously before shaking her head ardently as he turned and raised his arm, exposing his wound.
"I don't know how!" She protested as Jaune tied the thread to the needle and pressed it into her palm.
"I'll tell you what to do." Jaune replied calmly, noting that she didn't push the needle away.
"But what if I make it worse? What if I slip up and stab you? What if I drop it inside you? What if-?"
"Yang!" Jaune exclaimed firmly. She blinked and stared at him with confusion. He took a deep breath. "I trust you. On my word as an Arc I trust you. You don't have to worry about anything. I'll tell you what to do and I'll be right as rain afterwards."
She said nothing, and he couldn't see her reaction because she had lowered her head to stare at the needle in her hand.
"Do you mean it?" She asked quietly, and he couldn't help but make a confused, disbelieving noise that made her flinch.
"Of course I do." He told her, and he didn't say anything else. It was her choice to make. Her decision.
She looked up. Her lilac eyes were firm and determined.
"Tell me what to do Jaune."
He smiled at her. Despite the serious look on her face, she smiled back.
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Cinder growled and burrowed deeper into the cave that had become her new home. It was a tight, confined space filled with pests and cretins that irritated her to no end. However she could not leave on account of it being night.
Ever since that accursed Silver-eyed monster had burned her with its magic, she had been unable to foray out at night time. Her barely healed wounds would burn savagely and drive her mad with pain until she was forced to shelter inside a place where the moon couldn't touch her.
With nothing else to distract her, Cinder's mind wandered. She thought of her mate and the hatchling they had made, stuck in the home they'd made together but the opposite of safe. Nikos had his mercenaries dwelling there to 'protect' her family whilst she was away doing his bidding.
She snarled again, terrifying the small furry creatures that flapped around in the darkness. For all her might, for all her power, she was helpless to whatever power Nikos had sold his soul to.
She had not heard from him since they had last met, when he had allowed her to see her family through the smoke of his magic before taking them away from her and giving her the same instructions he'd given her before. To burn and destroy, though the places were always different.
Cinder sighed. After the Slayer of Men had been killed years ago it had been her who had risen to ascendancy as the strongest, most powerful of all the dragons. She had forged a large domain, earning tribute from dozens of villages in return for sacrifices of cattle, loot and slaves whom she promptly released. Dragons had mates to maintain the nest, and when they chose their mate they stayed with their mate. That was part of their code, taught from mother to daughter over generations.
Things had been going so, so well. She was lucky enough to find a mate who adjusted to his situation well and had grown to return her affections over time. They had created their hatchling, her daughter and the future of her lineage. The days had been long and warm and she couldn't help but feel good, despite all the trials and tribulations and pain it took to get her there it felt good to enjoy the fruits of her labour.
Then Nikos had come, swooping in like a hurricane. His mercenaries attacked the villages at the furthest reaches her domain, and whilst she had gone to fulfil her obligation to protect him Nikos had attacked her nest and captured her family.
Her talons raked into the ground, tearing through the stone as she remembered her weakness, her failure, as she remembered the blood on her mate's face and the chains wrapped around her daughter.
She would kill Nikos one day. Though if the pathetic cretin was as annoying to others as he was to her then she would likely beat a long list of others who wanted to kill him just as badly.
Dust swirled in front of her, rising from the ruined rocks she had destroyed in her angst. She recognised it for what it was and glared as Nikos came into shape in front of her.
"Cinder! How's my favourite weapon of mass destruction?" Nikos greeted happily, the dust tinted the same purple as the smoke from his magic. She growled at him, and if he ever asked she'd make up some bullshit about it being the only way for her to communicate to him when Armoured.
"Well that's just swell. As for me? The less said the better. I have a new mission for you, a little different from the usual but I'm sure you can handle it." Nikos said, his hand waving and conjuring up two images created from swirling dust that separate from his main image to form two smaller forms.
They were both human, though one was male and the other female. The male was tall, with a mop of blonde hair and dark blue eyes. The girl was short and had shoulder length hair with red tips and burning silver eyes. She hissed at the sight of her, making Nikos snort.
"The girl is the same one who drove you off so easily at Nördliche Burg." Nikos explained. Cinder's eyes narrowed and she glanced at her ruined flank, where her scales remained burned and weakened from her magic. "She's travelling with your target. Jaune Arc. Find them. Kill them. I'd have the Inquisition do it but I have yet to determine whether they'll back me or my sister. And since I am now an ally of Atlas, I don't need them weakened any further by you unless I wish to hamper my own war effort."
Cinder took in the sight of both the images before her. How was she supposed to just find two Humans? That was like asking her to find a needle in a haystack.
"Cinder." Nikos said, tone low and warning. "Get the girl if you can, but the boy is the main target. He poses the best chance for Weiss to strengthen relations between Atlas and Vale after the war. That cannot happen. Kill him. Bring me his head. Then I'll give you leave to visit your family in person before your next mission."
Cinder snarled and snapped at the dust as it collapsed when Nikos ended his message. She truly hated that man more than anything or anyone. She stared out of the cave, eyes narrowing as she committed the faces to memory. She cared little for the boy, but she definitely wanted revenge for what the girl had done to her. The cherry on top would be being able to see her family again.
'Jaune Arc.' Cinder thought as she glared out into the night, tasting the way the word sounded of her new prey.
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"Now loop it round at a ninety degree angle, just like before."
"Like this?"
"Ouch-I can't see it Yang."
"Are you hurt? Should I stop?"
"No! You're nearly done. I'd rather have a little pain now than a full blown infection later."
"Sorry."
"Stop apologising! You're helping me for crying out loud!"
"Sorry."
"...You're doing it on purpose now."
"Mayyybe~"
"Oww! That one hurt. Are you at the end?"
"Yup. What now?"
"Cut the thread and wrap the wound in the cloth strips you tore up earlier. Then we should be done."
Yang nodded and used a knife she'd taken from one of the bodies to cut off the excess thread before she took the cloth strips and tied them around his chest. Once she was done she helped him put on his tunic and put on his armour.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Now that the worry over his wound had faded, they were forced to confront what they had done, why the wound had been caused.
He turned around and surveyed the carnage. A dozen or so bodies were strewn across his vision, but he knew there were more.
He should have been sick at the sight of their blood, at the sight of their broken bodies. He wasn't. He didn't feel any guilt. How many had they murdered? How many poor and helpless people had they robbed?
Was this the feeling the shepherd had warned him about? Where killing became easy? Or was he just still in shock? He didn't know.
"Did we do the right thing?" He turned to see Yang with her knees hugged against her chest as she stared at the river. "Killing them. Was it…right?"
"Of course it was." Jaune replied. "Do you not remember what they did to the shepherd? They're bandits. Everything they have they got from stealing from others."
Yang was silent for a few moments. Then her shoulders started shaking and he realised she was crying.
"I really am the monster she accused me of being." She whispered quietly, head falling into her arms as she started sobbing unashamedly. Jaune wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a one armed hug, which she leaned into. He rubbed her back soothingly and her tears died down just as quickly as they came.
"You're not a monster Yang." He said, and she shook her head angrily.
"Did you not see what I did to them!" She yelled, gesturing to the bodies behind them. "That's something only a monster could do!"
"Why did you do it?" Jaune snapped back, making her blink and frown.
"What-?"
"Why did you do it? Why did you jump in?" He demanded, and she turned to look back at the river, tucking her chin behind her legs as she thought.
"They were going to hurt you." She answered quietly after a few moments of silence. "They were going to hurt you so I stopped them."
"Exactly." Jaune continued, smiling at her warmly. "If you were a monster you would've done it just for fun. But you only fought to help your friend, meaning that you aren't a monster."
She smiled back at him, it was small and tentative but it relieved him to see she wasn't beating herself up about it.
"I-" She began to say something, but someone interrupted her with a loud bellow.
"Found you!"
Jaune jumped and turned, hand falling to the hilt of his sword. Behind him was someone he didn't recognise, wearing dark clothes with leather armour dyed the same dark colour as his robes. There was a symbol on his chest, a purple eye surrounded by a spoked wheel and his eyes widened as he recognised it.
"The eye of the Goddess." He gasped. "An Inquisitor."
"For heresy against the one true Goddess of Remnant, you are sentenced to summary execution and death. Do you have any final words?" The Inquisitor intoned, drawing a pair of identical daggers.
Jaune didn't know what to do. He was tired after the fight with the bandits, and considering he was wearing heavier armour than the Inquisitor he couldn't run either. For a moment he glanced at Yang, but then he shook his head and steeled his resolve. He had already forced her to lower herself to his standard, to the that of a murderer, to help him avenge the shepherd, someone she hadn't even known. This was his fight.
"Let me handle this." He told Yang, and she gave him a worried look before nodding and stepping backwards a step. Jaune strapped his shield to his arm and drew his sword before slowly making his way over to the Inquisitor, his opponent becoming clearer as he came closer into view.
He had long black hair that was tied into a ponytail and a pink lock. His eyes were a pale pink and he looked familiar for some reason. Jaune frowned at the feeling of deja vu, but he readied himself by raising his shield.
"I'd like to know the name of the man Nikos sent to hunt me." Jaune said, voice echoey because of his helmet.
"Nikos did not send me. The Grand Inquisitor did." The Inquisitor replied. "As for my name that is of no concern to a heretic. I am an Inquisitor. Whereas I was once a child of Kuroyuri, I am now a child of Her, and your soul will be a fine gift as she tortures the heresy out of you in the afterlife."
Kuroyuri. Why did that sound familiar? Wait. Wasn't that…did that mean?
"Ren?" Jaune gasped, remembering the young boy from Kuroyuri and comparing him to the man standing in front of him. "Is that you?"
A/N:Next update-15/08/22 By the way, I don't want to come off as condescending or rude but please don't expect 10k+ chapters to become the new norm. The reason this one is so big is because I made you guys wait so long because of my holiday. Considering how busy work has got recently amongst other things three chapters a month that are all 10,000 words big is just not feasible for me, even if I had the extra time. Sorry.