The man, Javier, found a dirt path as he guided the horse in a direction. Pyrrha was quiet after all the information and thoughts rushed to her head and overwhelmed her. Earth, she thought to herself. Not Remnant, no kingdoms, none of that existed. Her arms tightened around his waist, and her breath hitched. Javier glanced back. It was something she hadn't noticed as he saw the look in her eyes. Hesitantly, Javier held out his hand, pointing to an open field.
Her eyes reluctantly trailed after, widening as the sun was overhead. A beautiful golden hue overcast the open field. The light reflected in her emerald eyes, seeing the vastness and herd of animals. Dozens of buffalo, the word came to mind, were grazing, unbothered. Her grip loosened as Javier spoke, his voice carrying the same accent.
"This place is West Elizabeth," He continued, motioning around himself. "It's beautiful, but we, uh, my family just got here."
Javier glanced back, seeing her focus on the scenery. She heard him, but she couldn't bring herself to look away. She died, and now she's in the afterlife, awarding her for her efforts, even if she failed.
He spoke again, this time getting her attention. "You're not from here at all, are you, Ms. Nikos?"
Her eyes were downcast. "No, I think I'm lost."
He shrugged, fixing his hat. "I think everyone gets lost. Where were you from?"
She hesitated, numbing the options from her head. "A city? Though, you might have not heard of it."
"I can try."
"Vale, it's the name of the city."
He paused, a small laugh escaping him. "I-I'm sorry, that does sound European."
She couldn't help but laugh as well. "I guess I'm European."
"Don't worry," He reassured. "My, uh, leader of my group can help you. He knows more about this stuff than me."
Pyrrha watched the sun slowly descend. Is this the afterlife or somewhere that shouldn't be possible? America, Europeans? Never in her life had she heard anything close to those words. His accent didn't give anything away. Even the rifle neatly tucked away in the saddle looked completely different from the ones she used to. The pistol in his holster was the only one that looked anything familiar. Even the clothes-
Javier startled her; his horse began to speed up as her grip tightened again. "We have to return to camp before the sun goes down."
She mentally groaned, already knowing why. "Because of the Grimm?"
"Eh?" His confusion shook her to her core as she fumbled her words. "Uh, I don't know what a 'Grimm' es, but no, I just told someone I would return before dark."
No Grimm? Pyrrha didn't know how to feel. She wanted to cry, yell, cheer, or sleep. All were possible, but her head was exhausted enough. Instead, she sighed, feeling the wind against her face as her eyes closed. It didn't take long for the sun to set, casting fields in a cold blue embrace. Her eyes watched the sky, and the stars were out and bright. All not alone and many. The moon, however, caught her attention. Untouched, unshaken and full. It wasn't shattered, pieces floating around it. Instead, it was intact, showing its beauty that might've rivaled Remnants.
Is this what the moon would have looked like if it hadn't been shattered by something? Slowly, the horse stopped, snapping Pyrrha from her treasured distraction. In the distance, near a cliff edge, were tents and wagons. They had different designs from what she was used to. She could make out figures walking around inside the tight circle. Javier sighed, cursing to himself in a language she didn't understand. He took off his poncho, holding it out to Pyrrha.
She examined it, turning toward Javier with a confused look. He glanced away and stuttered over his words. He placed the piece of clothing in her hands as he spoke.
"You're, eh, the outfit is weird." He bluntly spoke. "If I bring you, some of the more idiotas might think you're a…working girl."
She raised a brow. "Wouldn't that be good?"
He watched her, turning his head to the side as he face palmed. "No, it's not. They might think you are a paid girl. I don't think that's what you want."
How he sounded the word caused her face to heat—paid girl. Embarrassment and annoyance filled her face as she realized the meaning. She wasn't surprised; many people repeatedly said unkind words to her after she became a champion. Javier sighed in relief, seeing that Pyrrha caught on.
She reluctantly put on the pancho, as it barely covered her top. Javier searched his saddle, looking for any form of fabric. A blanket was all he found, seeing that there was nothing else. He held it out as she wrapped it around her waist. The design was…interesting, to say the least. It reminded her of Vacou, but these were more intricate. Javier helped tighten the blanket, making sure it wouldn't fall off.
The two began approaching the camp, Pyrrha taking note of the hitched horses. The moment she neared, a man nearby stepped by. He was big, though not as tall as Cardin. His body, however, was bulkier than Cardin's. His hand was placed on his belt as a cigarette loosely hung from his lips. A cowboy hat hung on his head; his eyes barely hid behind the brim. Pyrrha met many people; she could tell from a glance that this man was dangerous, which reminded her of an Ursa. She felt herself step back out of reflex.
"Javier," He tsked. "Never knew you would be the sort to bring back company."
"Arthur!" He sounded relieved. "I found this girl lost in the forest. Árboles altos. She looked like she needed help."
The man's shoulders relaxed, head tilting back, revealing his features. Pyrrha's eyes widened, seeing how similar he looked to Jaune. If she had met his father, this man would be it. The lonely difference is she could see a hint of green in his eyes. She felt embarrassed seeing the way Arthur watched her. His eyes suddenly landed on her hair, a brow raised in her direction.
"Irish?" Another word she didn't know.
Javier snapped his fingers. "That's the word!"
Arthur hummed, muttering something Pyrrha heard. "Tall for an Irish."
Before she could question, he motioned for them to follow. Javier excused himself, mentioning someone by the name of Pearson. She felt herself swallow, being left alone with Arthur. His demeanor, stature, and attitude were something that made Pyrrha uneasy.
"You okay, ma'am?" His voice turned soft, not the same rough voice that unsettled her.
Pyrrha blinked, her words caught in her throat. "I-Uh, yes. I am now, I think."
He nodded, guiding her through the camp. Some people were awake, their eyes watching as she stepped closer to Arthur. She didn't need the eyes, especially seeing how different her outfit was from others. Arthur noticed, eyes turning toward the others. Some quickly looked away, surprising Pyrrha.
"Mind yer own business!" His voice echoed in the night as he shook his head. "They're good people, just don't get on their bad side, Ms…?"
"Ah, it's Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos." He nodded as he stopped by a large tent and wagon.
"Judgin' from the blanket and poncho. You don't have spare clothes?" She looked away. "I figured. Don't worry, Ms. Nikos. Dutch, our, uh, leader, will be here tomorrow. Let's hope Ms. Jackson has clothes you can borrow."
Pyrrha nodded as he knocked on the wagon. A woman's voice allowed passage, causing Arthur to motion as he stepped out with her. She turned toward the woman lying on the floor with a book. She looked up, a surprised look on her face.
"Arthur, how are you?" Her voice also holds an accent. "And who's she? She looks scared, Arthur!"
The man scratched the back of his head, motioning toward the ex-huntsmen. "Javier brought her from Tall Trees. Mentioned she was lost. I was wondering if ya had spare clothes that you could spare for Ms. Pyrrha Nikos?"
Ms. Jackson quickly stood up as she gently held Pyrrha's hand. "Ah, you poor thing! I think I have a set or two. C'mon with me, miss."
Pyrrha hesitated, glancing back at Arthur, who nodded. "She'll take care of you, Ms. Nikos. You can trust her."
She didn't know why, but she nodded. She was guided away, watching as Arthur leaned against the wagon and disappeared from view. She rounded the side of the wagon as Ms. Jackson searched through chests.
"He's scary, ain't he?" She laughed.
"Huh, Arthur?" Pyrrha softly laughed. "He is, and he kind of reminded me of someone, Ms. Jackson."
The woman scoffed, waving her hand. "Tilly's fine. I don't look older than you."
"Ah, sorry, Ms-Ah!" Pyrrha felt the embarrassment glow on her cheeks. "Tilly. Sorry, Tilly."
"It's fine!" Tilly laughed as she pulled some clothes from the chest. "He's not all bad. Sure, he's grumpy on the outside, but he's as soft as a horse mane. Trust me, Pyrrha. No matter the things he says or does, he's a good man. Better than most."
"I can hear you, Ms. Jackson." Arthur's voice echoed from the other side.
Tilly laughed as it infected Pyrrha. Pyrrha relaxed, feeling the pressure leave. The dark-skinned woman held a dark brown blouse and a red dress skirt.
"Here, take off those old rags." Pyrrha opened her mouth but was stunned as Tilly lifted a tarp to cover them.
"Here?" Pyrrha questioned.
"It's fine, we're both women." Tilly placed the clothes beside Pyrrha. "What if they're too tight?"
Pyrrha couldn't argue with her logic as she slowly removed the poncho and blanket. Tilly's eyes widened, seeing the armor that encased Pyrrha's frame. If Pyrrha could die again, she do it now because of the amount of awkwardness she feels. She quickly began to unequip the armor, noticing the additional weight coming from them. The thudded against the ground as Pyrrha felt the weight leave.
Pyrrha felt her chest rise and fall from the weight of her armor. She glanced at her armor, noticing the difference. Along with the soreness left, she was confused about why it felt different. She wore the armor hundreds of times, and not once had she felt sore from it. Pyrrha snapped herself from her own analysis as she continued stripping.
Tilly watched, taking glances at the poor girl's armor. That wasn't the strangest thing, however. It was the scars that littered her back and body. Pyrrha may have covered herself with her hands, but Tilly can see the scars. There was even a burn in the middle of the back. When Pyrrha turned, Tilly took notice of a similar burn in the middle of her chest.
"Oh, Pyrrha, what happened to you?" Tilly's words cause Pyrrha to glance down at her own body, seeing the same scars.
Pyrrha's breath hitched, seeing the burns. "A-A lot."
"I can see that. Been through too much, haven't you?"
That hit harder than any blow she received in her life. Memories flashed along with similar pain that had happened. Pyrrha hadn't noticed a tear rolling down her cheek as her lip quivered. She was pulled into a hug as Tilly squeezed her tightly.
"I know, I know." Pyrrha slowly hugged back to this stranger she had barely met, not even an hour before. "It's okay."
Pyrrha didn't cry, just stood in Tilly's arms momentarily. She wanted to, but now's not the time. She pulled away, wiping the tears away. She smiled, thanking Tilly. Tilly smiled, seeing her mood lighten as she held out the clothes.
The clothes did fit, although the shoes were a different story. Tilly sighed in relief as she clapped her hands together. Pyrrha examined the clothes, lightly glancing back to see how the dress was meant to reach the floor.
"That's good; I thought it was gonna rip!" Pyrrha's cheeks dusted pink. "I've never met a woman with as many muscles as you! Might even give Arthur a run for his money."
Pyrrha giggled, hearing the man scoff. Tilly reached for the armor, a huff escaping her as she let it go after feeling the weight. Pyrrha, however, reached for her skirt. She unhooked it from her armor, feeling the Haven-made cloth. A frown formed on her face as she tied it to her arm. She then helped Tilly put away the armor in a spare chest as Tilly leaned against the wagon.
"Were you a part of a circus before coming here?" She laughed, seeing Pyrrha's expression of embarrassment.
"No, I wasn't." She smiled. "It was just…normal from where I'm from."
"Then it's no wonder you're as tall as a wagon. Almost as tall as Arthur!"
Pyrrha could hear a faint chuckle from the cowboy. "Am I tall? I've met taller."
"Oh, please don't say that." Tilly held out her hands. "Come on now. It's getting late."
Pyrrha followed as they rounded the corner. They approached Arthur, seeing as he had tossed his cigarette to the ground and crushed it. He faced the two, glancing at Pyrrha's clothes.
"How ya feel?" Pyrrha let off a breath.
"Better, now, at least."
He nodded, turning toward Tilly. "Thank you, Tilly."
He reached into his satchel, pulling a bundle of paper from it. "For your troubles."
"I didn't do it for money, Arthur," Till answered as she took the bills, turning and handing them to Pyrrha. "She could use it, maybe take her to town or something."
Arthur glanced at the stars. "Now?"
She rolled her eyes, a hand smacking against his arm. "Of course, not now. Maybe she'll find out what to do tomorrow before Dutch returns."
He nodded, glancing at the wagons. "She'll be fine stayin' here for the time being?"
The two looked toward Pyrrha; the sudden shift of attention startled her as she cleared her throat. "Ah, well, if it is all right with you."
Tilly smiled, shaking her head. "It quite all right. Stay as long as you can."
Arthur tipped his hat. "Then I best be back. Sleep well, ladies."
With that, he turned and walked off, lighting another smoke. Pyrrha watched as she glanced back to Tilly, who patted the spot next to her. Pyrrha adjusted her skirt, sitting beside the woman as she prepared to sleep. The blanket and pad underneath were comfortable enough, even if they were lying on the floor. Tilly wished her goodnight as she turned away. Pyrrha, on the other hand, couldn't sleep instantly. The tarp that was cast overhead blocked the stars, leaving Pyrrha to her own thoughts.
She had questions, several of them. Many that she fears might not be given to her or even discovered. Whatever the notion is, she can't help but think of her team. Is there a way to even return? She thought to herself as she turned on her side. She curled into a ball, the cold night now affecting her. Earth. It's another mystery, much like Remnant, but no Grimm or evil in the dark. She couldn't suppress the genuine feeling of glee, but the thought that this new world was entirely peaceful never stayed for long. There had to be something that was dangerous, if not terrible.
Slowly, she felt sleep become too strong as her eyes began to close.
Birds chirped as the sun began to rise. The golden hue was cast again, covering the prairie. The camp was barely active, though it's not a surprise the ex-huntsmen would be awake. She stirred, eyes barely cracking open as she rolled onto her back. The tarp greeted her again, her breathing evening out. She glanced around, seeing Tilly still asleep beside her. A shiver trailed down Pyrrha's spine, feeling the crisp air against her skin.
Footsteps were heard as she rubbed her eyes, sitting up with a yawn. Arthur's figure came into view with metallic mugs in his hand, and a surprised face was evident. He bent down, holding out one of the mugs as he wished her good morning.
"Good morning, Arthur." Was her response; fatigue could be heard in her voice.
Pyrrha winced, reaching for the cup as she felt her back pop from sleeping on the floor. She smelled the cup, a familiar scent invading. She drank the coffee, only to gag at the black taste. Through grit, she swallowed, a fake smile resting on her person. Arthur huffed in amusement, drinking his own as he surveyed the camp.
"How are you doing, Ms. Nikos?" He sipped his coffee, glancing down at her.
"I've been better." She stood, stretching and wincing at the relief in her muscles. "And Pyrrha is fine."
"Okay." He nodded. "Say, Pyrrha. You wanna come fishin' with me?"
"Fishing?" She enjoyed the warmth of the cup. "I-I don't know how to fish, I'm afraid."
He shrugged. "It's fine, I can show you. You look like you need a distraction."
She stared at the dark liquid in her cup, seeing her reflection. She nodded, smiling to the cowboy as he nodded. She followed, dumping the contents of the cup without Arthur noticing. The two arrived at his horse, who was waiting patiently. He unhitched the creature, patting its neck with a hum. Arthur noticed Pyrrha's expression on his horse. She watched with curiosity, a hint of wonder. He motioned toward the beast.
"Know how to ride?" The question caused her to smile as she looked away.
"No, I don't. I've never been given a chance." He nodded, pointing to the mane.
"Here, then. Pet her a moment; she likes it."
She hesitated, slowly reaching toward the mane. The horse, as if sensing her feelings, neighed. The sound caused Pyrrha to retract her hand, causing Arthur to smirk. She inhaled, trying again. She reached, feeling the fur on her neck. The horse neighed calmly, her eyes closing to the touch. She continued as Arthur mounted the saddle. He held out a hand to Pyrrha, who took it. She sat against the saddle, noticing Javier's and Arthur's differences. Arthur guided his horse as they rode away from camp. The further they got, the more Pyrrha was nervous.
After moments of riding, Arthur spoke. "You're a long way from home, aren't you?"
She tensed, hearing the shift in his voice. "W-What do you mean?"
The horse slowed, trotting along the dirt path. "You ain't European, are you?"
She sighed, not hearing hostility. "You could tell?"
He laughed. "I'm thick, but I ain't ever hear no European speak English like you."
No, I'm not." Her smile betrayed her. "I-I'm more lost than anything."
He hummed, taking the path to the right. "I know whatchu mean. So, where are you from?"
She paused, staring up at the blue sky. "Not here, that's for sure."
"Somethin' happen for you to be here alone?"
"You could say that." She hoped he wouldn't continue.
"How old are you, anyway?" The question made Pyrrha raise a brow.
"Seventeen." He glanced back at her, his brow raised under his hat.
He hummed, awkward silence cutting through. The two continued to ride, Pyrrha catching a glimpse of a fox in the grass. Arthur cleared his voice, grabbing Pyrrha's attention.
"You got any family around, someone or somewhere to stay?"
"I wish, but no. For all I know, I have no one." She didn't realize her arms tightened around Arthur's waist. "I don't even know where anything is anymore. I've never been here before."
Arthur stayed silent, guiding the horse. After moments, Pyrrha could feel him pat her arms as if to comfort her. It did, strangely enough. She thought herself to ease up, her head relaxing as she watched the scenery pass.
"I ain't gonna lie to you, Pyrrha." He spoke again. "Your situation. It ain't something I'd say I understand. I know the feelin', being lost an all. You seem like a good kid. Too good for this kinda world."
She listened. "I ain't a good man, Ms. Nikos. But there's worse. I've robbed, killed, hell, cheated in poker here and there."
The sudden revelation caused Pyrrha to stare at the back of Arthur's head. This man's killed and robbed people? Her original opinion felt justified, the threat of this man. Then, Tilly's words cut through. That woman has been with Arthur's group and says he's a good man. Then there were the recent interactions. He wasn't hiding anything; a bad person would keep all this or at least seem like they enjoyed that kind of life. Then again, she's barely known him.
Reminds her of Blake, with her past. This may be the same, with more or less factors. She sighed, keeping her opinions to herself. Either Arthur didn't care or respected her decision; she was grateful he didn't press her for answers. The ride went smoothly, more so than she thought. The air wasn't heavy with seriousness or awkwardness. Instead, they simply rode to where they would fish as if nothing had happened. Pyrrha can't ignore what he said, but he hasn't done anything to ward away her trust.
The sound of water splashing gave her the clue they must be close. Thank goodness, she thought to herself as her butt began to be sore. They took a small path that led down to the stream. As they grew closer, she could feel the mist from the river as it splashed droplets into the air. Arthur stopped his horse, patting as Pyrrha dismounted. She stretched, seeing Arthur dismount and pull a small rod from his satchel. She raised a brow to question, only to be answered as he extended it. Arthur noticed the reaction, shaking his head as he held out the rode toward her.
"It's your first time, right?" She gingerly held onto it.
"Unfortunately." He guided her into a stance before handing her a makeshift bait.
"It's easy. Boring as hell, but easy." She noticed it looked like a small fish, a colorful one.
"Do you find it boring?" He huffed, examining the lake.
"Eh, not really." He sat against some large rocks, back pressed against them. "Though might be because I'm getting old. A kid like you might hate it."
She wanted to prove him wrong, but this was her first time after all. "So, what do I do?"
He glanced up, seeing her examining the bait. "There's a hook; attach that to the bait. It should fit pretty good."
Pyrrha followed as instructed, finding it difficult as it seemed to move away. Once it connected, she tugged it to ensure it wouldn't fall off. She turned to Arthur, who gave a smirk as he continued to instruct.
"Good, sewing might suit you." She couldn't stop her eyes from rolling. "Now, that little lever on the side. You use that to reel in a fish once you get a bite. All you gotta do now is just reel the fishing rod back and swing. Make sure it goes a good distance, or fish won't care too much."
She lifted the fishing rod over her shoulder, remembering how she had seen some people do it on TV and in videos. With a quick motion, she flung the fishing rod, hearing the reel rotating and clicking. She watched the bait fly before hitting the stream. She felt the current pull the bait, but not strong enough to yank it.
"That's good, now watch it. You'll feel tugs here and there, but it ain't nothing—just curious little fish, nibbling. When you feel a hard tug, then that's when you reel the sucker in. Don't fight too hard, though. If ya keep trying to reel 'em, the line will break. Gotta tire them out first, pull against where they're swimming."
"Pull against." She repeated to herself. She watched the line, feeling the pressure of her first time fishing made her heart race. "How long does it usually take?"
"About a few minutes or so. Though, they might just ignore you." The joke made her smile.
Before she could speak, the line tugged softly. She noticed it tug a few moments before it stopped. Just as she was about to assume the fish ignored her, the rod was pulled forward roughly. She quickly grabbed the reel, feeling the strength of the fish. She tugged back as she grunted. Soon enough, the fish's strength grew tired. She began to reel it in, feeling it still swim against her. The game of tug of war was set. The two fought against each other, both not wanting to lose. As Pyrrha pulled, she could hear Arthur speak, but she was too focused to care. The fish broke through the water with a final tug and landed on the riverside. It flopped and tried to reenter, but she was quick. She forced it into the air by reeling it, seeing its size.
"I did it!" She felt pride wash through her. "Arthur, look!"
"I can see." He chuckled as he stepped beside her. "That's a good size, a bass, I reckon. Largemouth, I think."
"Good?" She voiced. "You're saying it gets bigger?"
"Oh, sure. They all do. Now, I always throw the smaller ones back in so that they can grow. That looks good for a stew or at least a roast."
Pyrrha didn't hide her grimace at the mention of fish stew. "I-I see."
Arthur snickered, patting her on the back. "Don't get too excited. This is barely the first catch. Might get something bigger. Now, unhook that one and put it by the rocks."
Pyrrha felt her confidence build back up at the mention of bigger. She walked over to the rocks, seeing Arthur had created a small ditch for them. She knelt down, gripping the hook in the fish's mouth. Just as she pulled, the bass wriggled in her grasp, using its last bit of strength. She winced, feeling the hook stab her finger as she reeled back. She dropped the fish into the hole and looked at the wound as blood began to form. Her brows furrowed, seeing nothing happen to the wound. Her eyes focused, but the wound remained.
As if a light switch flicked on, she turned toward the hook as she extended her hand. The hook lay against the floor, unbothered and lifeless. Her breathing increased as a realization dawned on her.
She had no semblance; her aura wasn't working or wasn't there either. She looked down at her hands, seeing them tremble. She clenched her fists, hearing the footsteps behind her.
"Ah shit, forgot to mention they might fight back." Arthur shook his head as Pyrrha evened her breathing. "You okay?"
"Y-Yes, I am." She shook her head, turning toward the cowboy. "Just shocked me, is all."
"That's good. I have a spare rod, so let's see if we can catch some more, okay?"
She nodded, reluctantly getting her own as they approached the stream. This isn't Remnant, she reminded herself. The two stood side by side, casting their lines. She needed a distraction.
"I reckon I'll catch more than you by the end of this." His words surprised Pyrrha.
"What? But I just started!" She defended seeing the smile forming on his face.
"And?" Was his response. "I mean, sure. If you don't want to."
Pyrrha felt her smile form as she turned back to the river. "All right then. Don't be surprised if you lose."
He laughed, smiling as he noticed it distracted her from whatever she was thinking. Pyrrha's rod tugged again, her eyes widening as Arthur's began to be tugged as well. The two continued to fish, even if there were some failures.
A/N: I know, I know. I'm two years late, but I'll be honest. I didn't have the motivation to write this story. I also didn't have anything to go off this, but now I do, and I feel it would be best to continue. I hope you all enjoy this one.
