Author's Note: I feel like this chapter should have a trigger warning in front of it, but I don't know for what. So beware. Intense emotions ahead.
Chapter 20: Unworthy
Turbulence shook the bullhead Yang was riding in as the wind outside rocked the tiny airship. The weather was not ideal for flying, but Yang supposed that was the exact reason the bullhead was in the air.
Yang was in her bird form, perched unobtrusively as she could be on a bit of railing sticking out from the back of the airship's cabin. There were a handful of White Fang brothers and sisters riding on the airship with her, none of who were in uniform or wearing a mask. But just as important as who was on board the airship was who was not. The bullhead was one in a formation of five, and Yang had made sure to not stow away on the same ship Blake was riding on. She'd made sure to avoid Yuma as well who had unsurprisingly volunteered to go on this mission. Yang couldn't be sure if Neo had told him about her or not, but she didn't want to take the risk.
Sneaking on board the bullhead had been surprisingly easy for Yang. As a bird she'd been able to shadow the precession of White Fang members who had left their warehouse headquarters earlier that day. She'd followed them to where the organization's few remaining bullheads had been hidden. From there all Yang had needed to do was glide in through one of the airships' open doors the moment neither Blake nor Yuma had been looking. A few of Yang's fellow passengers had made some comments about her when they'd boarded. However, they had all recognized her as the High Leader's "pet", and while they had been confused by her presence, they'd all decided it was best to leave her alone. Had Yang been in a better mood, she would've found it amusing that her being an eagle where an eagle obviously should not be was less obtrusive than her being a human.
Up in the airship's cockpit the pilot put his hand to his headset. He appeared to be listening to something on his radio. A moment later, he glanced over his shoulder and announced to his passengers, "We're almost to Creek Basin Mine. We'll be landing shortly."
Yang felt the bullhead start to descend. It didn't take long before the engines briefly kicked up to full power. Then the airship shuddered as it touched the ground.
The doors on the sides of the airship swung open, and a blast of frigid air rushed in. All of the White Fang members started hopping out.
Yang waited until she was alone. Then she jumped down from her perch and transformed. There was a deadly serious look on her face. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a White Fang mask that had been tucked inside. It wasn't hers of course. She'd stolen it just before she'd left the warehouse.
Yang was so nervous that she was shaking, but she willed herself to be steady. She looked at the mask for a moment, turning it over in her hands a few times. Her stomach was churning, and her palms were sweating. She squeezed her fingers tight around the mask. Then she resolutely walked through the airship's open door.
Yang jumped out of the bullhead, and her boots crunched against the snow that had accumulated on the ground. Winter winds nipped at her face. There was a light flurry of snowflakes in the air. It was nothing particularly bad yet, but Yang knew this was just the prelude to the storm that was coming. Yang found herself standing on a plateau that overlooked a valley. Lights were shining in the valley below, just barely penetrating the thick fog hanging over the area. But every once in a while the clouds would briefly part, revealing Creek Basin Mine in all its dingy glory. The White Fang had indeed arrived.
Blake was standing at the edge of the plateau, right near the lip of a cliff that sharply plunged down into the valley. Unlike everyone else present, she did have her mask on. Ilia was by her side. Yang had noticed that Ilia had practically been glued to Blake's hip during the journey from the warehouse to the bullheads. She didn't want to think about what that might imply, but she supposed it wouldn't matter for much longer. At least if everything went according to plan.
Yang surveyed the crowd of White Fang members who stood in between her and Blake. She spotted Yuma right away. He was standing with such a proud bearing that he resembled a general surveying the field of battle who was supremely confident in his coming victory. Yang also saw Fiona. In sharp contrast to Yuma, Fiona looked nervous. Her hands were fidgeting, and she was constantly glancing in Yuma's direction. Yuma was occasionally stealing a glance or two of his own at several other people in the crowd, and many of them gave him subtle nods in return. It was clear that Yuma had brought a whole squad of coconspirators with him, just like Yang had feared he would. They were a dozen strong at least if not more, and they were certain to be the White Fang's most dangerous members. Maybe if there were less of them, or if Fiona wasn't there, things would have been okay. But as it stood, when Yuma gave the word, Blake wouldn't stand a chance. The only upside that Yang could see was that Neo appeared to be absent, although Yang couldn't rule out the possibility that she'd merely changed her disguise.
Up at the head of the group, Ilia asked Blake, "What are we waiting for?"
As if in reply to Ilia, a sound like thunder suddenly ripped across the sky. A transport airship bearing the crest of the Schnee Family broke through the clouds. It flew directly toward the mine, and it was quickly followed by two more airships.
"That," Blake said. She turned to face the group and spoke up. "As you all know, we're here to rescue our fellow faunus! They need to be evacuated before the worst of the storm hits! We only have enough space on our bullheads for a handful of passengers, so we're going to direct the workers to the Schnee ships and do our best to keep them calm. Any one of them who insists on flying out with us is welcome, but most of them have to go with the Company."
There was a murmur that went through the crowd. Yang saw Yuma grin. He nodded to a few people, including Fiona. It was clear he had decided this was his moment. His revolution was about to begin.
Yang took a deep breath. She squeezed the White Fang mask she was holding a little tighter. It surprised her that despite everything that had happened, she'd still been clinging to the hope that what she was about to do would prove to be unnecessary. But it had been a fool's hope, and she'd known it. The inevitable had happened, just like Fennec had predicted. Although unlike Fennec's prediction, Yang chose to do something about it.
Just as Yuma took a step forward, Yang snatched the moment away from him. She shouted at the top of her lungs, "TRAITOR!"
Yang's voice rang out, clear and crisp against the wind. Everyone, including Yuma, froze. Heads started turning in Yang's direction as she stomped forward. She pushed and shoved her way through the crowd, leaving a bewildered Yuma behind her. Then she burst out into the unoccupied space in between the crowd and Blake and said again, "Traitor!"
Even with her mask on, Blake looked absolutely flabbergasted. Yang imagined her mouth must have been hanging open in shock.
Ilia sneered. She marched toward Yang, shouting, "Just what do you think you're doing?!"
Yang thrust her hand at Ilia. Razor-sharp talons sprouted from her fingers which she pointed at Ilia's throat. Ilia halted, clearly shocked by what had just happened.
Yang was too laser-focused on her objective to realize that despite all her earlier attempts this was the first time she'd successfully been able to use her magic to partially transform. What she could or couldn't do didn't concern her anymore. All that mattered was what she had to do. This farce of hers would only work if the White Fang believed she was a faunus, and showing off her "retractable claws", something a human obviously wouldn't have, was the perfect way to persuade them she was just that.
Yang said, "Back off, Ilia! Unless you want to get what's coming to you before the 'High Leader' does!"
Ilia looked stunned. Her eyes flicked between Yang's face and her freshly sprouted talons. Yang really hoped Ilia would do something stupid. As far as she was concerned, Ilia was culpable for everything that was about to happen. At least that's what she told herself.
It looked like Ilia was considering her options for a moment, but then she stepped aside.
Yang's talons retracted back into her fingers. At least that's what it had looked like they'd done from a distance. In reality her talons had transformed back into fingernails. Not that Yang cared about technicalities at the moment.
Yang marched toward Blake again and shouted, "I really thought you were going to save the White Fang when you killed Sienna! But look at us! Look at what you're doing! Do you really think if we play nice the humans are going to let us be equals?! That'll never happen! Not when they hold all the power! You're so afraid of them that you're content to let other people fight our battles for us! You want to pretend that if we're good little citizens the humans will be so grateful that they'll throw us some table scraps! And now you want us to 'save' our brothers and sisters down there by handing them over to their Schnee masters?!"
It was taking everything Yang had to keep up her façade of anger without breaking down into tears. She was trying to use as many of Yuma's own words as she could remember and say anything and everything she'd thought he'd say. The noxious bile she was spewing hurt her deeply, but it was the only way to rob Yuma of the power his words would have given him. This was Yang's plan. Blake hadn't listened to her warnings. Trying to forcibly remove Blake from the situation would only make her double down. Stopping Yuma would only clear the way for the next would-be High Leader to try to violently depose Blake. In Yang's mind her only choice was to beat Yuma to the punch. That way the inevitable revolt against Blake would end on her terms and no one else's.
"Yang…" Blake said, almost whispering. "What are you doing?"
"What I have to," Yang said. She couldn't hold her tears back much longer. So she lifted the White Fang mask she'd been carrying and slipped it on over her eyes.
Blake audibly gasped.
"You're weak!" Yang shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Blake. Then she squeezed her fists together. Blades made from solid yellow Dust sprung out of her bracers. "And you've already shown us what the White Fang does to weak High Leaders!"
Blake took a step back. Her mask hid her expression, but Yang could see Blake trembling. She wondered if it was more from dread or rage.
Yang raised her bladed fists, clearly signaling her intentions. But she found herself paralyzed. She knew what she had to do, but every fiber of her being recoiled at the thought of attacking Blake. However, she reminded herself about Yuma and how he could still easily ruin everything by taking the initiative. Yang pushed her fear and grief aside, and she charged toward Blake.
For a moment, Yang thought that Blake was going to give her a free hit, but at the last second, Blake drew Wilt from its sheath on her belt to defend herself. There was a dull thud as the Dust of Yang's blade slammed into Blake's sword. Blake had clearly either not expected or not believed that Yang was actually going to hit her because she staggered a little from the force of the blow. Yang pressed her advantage, literally, slamming her shoulder into Blake. She started bodily shoving Blake toward the edge of the cliff.
Blake seemed to suddenly become aware of the danger she was in as the cliff's edge drew uncomfortably close. She found her footing again and dug her heels in. Then her body shimmered, and she spun away, leaving a clone behind. However, Yang had anticipated such a move. Even before the clone vanished, Yang stuck her foot out and tripped up the real Blake. Blake wobbled off balance as she tried to catch herself. Yang wheeled around, and she struck again. There was another thud as Blake just barely managed to block in time.
With Blake still on the defensive, Yang lashed out at her again. She could tell that Blake wasn't giving the fight her all, and she knew why. She knew that deep down Blake was in denial that this was actually serious. Yang realized she needed to prove to Blake that it was.
Yang doubled her efforts, rapidly chipping away at Blake's halfhearted defense. Within moments, she saw an opening. She took it. She slashed at Blake as hard as she could, and the edge of her blade dragged across Blake's throat. Blake's aura flashed brightly in response, and Yang's heart shrieked at the thought of causing Blake actual physical harm. But she couldn't afford to stop. She spun around and kicked Blake in the chest.
Blake's whole body recoiled, and her mask was knocked off her face. The mask fell at Yang's feet while Blake herself went staggering back. However, Yang didn't pursue Blake. She was confident her point had been made.
Blake's hand briefly touched her throat. Then she looked up at Yang, her expression twisted into one of confusion and horror. Without her mask on it was the most devastating thing she could have done to Yang. Blake's eyes might as well have been daggers stabbed into Yang's chest.
Yang stole a quick glance at Yuma. He still looked bewildered at what was happening, just like Yang had hoped. But she knew she needed to work quickly before he found the wherewithal to act.
Yang reached up and removed her own mask. Her gaze locked with Blake's. Tears were pouring out of Yang, and her eyes were puffy and red, although her irises were still lilac.
"Fight me for real," Yang whispered quietly, knowing full well that Blake's sensitive ears could hear her. "Or you're going to die."
Shock and disbelief filtered across Blake's face. But then they melted away, and in their place was bitter resolve.
Yang put her White Fang mask back on. Then she kicked Blake's mask. It skittered across the ground over to its owner.
"Put it on," Yang said. It was as much a threat as it was a command.
Blake slowly reached down and picked up her mask, never breaking eye contact with Yang. She slipped the mask on. Yang watched it consume Blake's face bit by bit until only the High Leader was left in Blake's place. There was no going back now, Yang realized. The battle was about to begin in earnest
Blake drew Blush from her belt. Then she slowly slid Wilt into the sheath. Her muscles tensed, and she stood ready.
Yang raised her blades. She was never going to walk away from this fight a victor, but she was going to defeat Blake. She had to. The alternative was unthinkable.
The wind blowing across the plateau suddenly shifted directions. Yang took that as her cue. She pushed off her back foot and surged forward. Almost simultaneously, Blake squeezed the trigger on Blush. There was a bang, and Wilt went flying toward Yang like a missile. However, Yang twisted into a spin and snatched Wilt out of the air as it sped by her without missing a beat. Then she followed through with her spin and brought the sword swinging toward Blake.
Wilt's blade passed right through Blake who turned out to be a clone, and Yang suddenly found herself off balance. She realized she'd fallen into a trap. Blake had intended for her to grab Wilt out of the air.
A barrage of bullets suddenly smacked into Yang's aura as Blake unloaded into Yang's back with Blush. The sheath was also a gun after all. Yang spun around, but she only caught a glimpse of Blake before she slipped around behind her and delivered a kick to the back of Yang's leg. Yang collapsed onto one knee, and before she could reorient herself, Wilt was snatched out of her hand.
Yang blindly lifted her arm to block the blow she knew was coming. The moment she felt Blake's sword deflect off her bracer, she scrambled to her feet. Wilt came rushing at her again, but now she had her guard up. She blocked blow after blow without even looking. She knew Blake's fighting style—her openings, her weaknesses—almost as intimately as she knew Blake herself. But rather than pressing the attack, she baited a trap of her own by pretending like she was stuck on the defensive.
Blake slowly maneuvered Yang's guard lower and lower, and Yang did her part to play the fool. Then Blake's sword suddenly swept up to deliver a devastating overhand blow. Just as quickly, Yang crossed her blades above her head. Wilt crashed down into them. Yang felt the impact run all the way through her legs and down into the ground. Wilt's hard metal edge bit into the softer Dust comprising Yang's blades. But then Yang sprung her trap. She pulled her arms in an outward direction, and her blades squeezed into the side of Wilt. All three weapons were suddenly locked in place.
Blake tried to pull her sword free only to discover that it was trapped. That was when Yang's leg lashed out and delivered a devastating kick to Blake's ribs. The hit was hard enough to make Blake's aura glow.
Yang and Blake teetered about as they fought for both control and balance. Yang kicked Blake again, this time drawing an alarmed yelp from her. The sound was like a snake bite in Yang's ear, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.
Yang lifted her leg to kick again, but at that exact moment, Blake pulled hard on her sword. Yang suddenly found herself yanked forward as Blake rolled onto her back. Both of Blake's feet sprung up and slammed into Yang's gut.
Yang's own aura flashed as she was launched upward. Her blades dislodged from Wilt, and she went arcing into the air. A moment later, she hit the ground hard and tumbled across the rocky, snow-covered terrain, ending up disquietingly close to the edge of the cliff.
Undeterred, Yang sprung back to her feet just in time to see Blake rushing at her. However, Yang stood her ground. She didn't even bother to block as Blake swung at her with her sword.
Wilt connected, but as it did, it and the phantom Blake who wielded it vanished. Yang wasn't surprised. She'd known it had been a clone. The real Blake was standing a few meters away. Yang raised her arms and blades again, ready to continue. In response, Blake twirled her sword with a flourish and slid it back into its sheath. Yang knew what Blake had meant by that. She was taunting Yang, daring her to charge.
Yang took a moment to assess the situation. She'd taken a few big hits, but so had Blake. And unlike her, Blake didn't gain anything by getting beat up. Yang could already feel her semblance simmering. As far as she was concerned, she still had the advantage. She scraped her blades against one another, causing a few jolts of electricity to spark between them. She knew Blake wouldn't be intimidated, but she had to put on a good show for the White Fang crowd.
Suddenly, Yang charged again. She zoomed toward Blake, and one of her blades plunged forward. However, Blake deftly stepped aside and slashed at Yang with a quick swipe of her sword. She hadn't even fully drawn the blade from Blush before she'd sheathed it again, but Yang still felt the sting of its edge. Yang wheeled around, intending to counterattack, only to slash at the empty air and get swiped with Blake's sword again for her troubles. Her aura held strong, but she knew it could only take so much before the situation would change.
Yang had seen Blake try to pull these kinds of tricks before. However, Yang wasn't worried. It would only be a matter of time before Blake would slip up and eat a big hit. But as Yang tried harder and harder to land a blow, she realized something was different this time. Blake wasn't making any mistakes, and she wasn't tiring herself out. She must have been just as determined to prevail as Yang was.
Blake nicked Yang's aura with her sword yet again. The tiny cuts were starting to pile up, and Yang's aura wavered ever so slightly. It slowly dawned on Yang that she could actually lose this fight. At first she was miffed that Blake had never tried this hard when they'd sparred. But whatever displeasure she might have felt was drowned out by how proud she was of Blake. If only Yuma had been brave enough to challenge Blake to a fair fight. Yang would have dearly loved to see Blake absolutely wipe the floor with him. But she couldn't afford to focus on lovely what-ifs right now. She had to win. Otherwise Yuma and his goons would surely pounce on Blake afterward.
Yang struck at Blake once more, predictably hitting nothing, but this time she let her attack carry her forward and rolled clear. The moment she sprung back to her feet, she shuffled backward until she was sure that Blake wasn't going to immediately counterattack.
Seizing the respite she'd been given, Yang pulled her fists back and slammed her blades together. The Dust they were made of crumbled to bits, and in a flash, Yang's bracers were wreathed in crackling electricity.
The wind shifted again as Yang and Blake faced each other down. Blake stood there, apparently unfazed by Yang's display. Yang would have bet anything that Blake thought she knew what was about to happen next. Unfortunately for Blake, she wasn't the only one who had some tricks up her sleeve.
Yang suddenly jabbed at the air in front of her with a punch, and a bolt of lightning leaped off her fist. It wasn't a move Blake had ever seen her use, and that was the point. The bolt whizzed toward Blake, and before she could react, it slammed into her chest. Blake let out a scream of pain as electricity arced over her body, but her troubles were only just beginning. Yang had chased after her own lightning bolt. She rushed up to Blake and punched again. This time her fist connected, sending even more electricity surging over Blake. Blake's body was aglow both from the electric energy and her aura trying to keep her safe.
Yang didn't let up. She threw punch after punch at Blake. Behind her stolen White Fang mask, tears blurred her vision. Her heart ached each time she felt her knuckles slam into Blake's aura. She wanted so badly for this to be over. She wanted to beg Blake to give up. She'd known this wasn't going to be easy, but the anguish she felt was unbearable.
Suddenly, Yang's fist passed right through Blake, and the clone she'd hit vanished before her eyes. She realized she'd let her focus slip; she hadn't even noticed Blake using her semblance. She spun around just in time to see an image of Blake running toward her. She was all but certain it was another clone, but she jabbed her hand forward anyway.
Another bolt of lightning leaped off of Yang's fist. It struck the charging Blake who dissipated into nothing. Yang then wheeled about to where her experience told her the real Blake would be coming from. She fired off yet another bolt of lightning, almost before she'd even seen her target. But to her great shock, this Blake vanished into nothing as well.
Yang's eyebrows shot up in alarm. There was no way she'd given Blake enough time to create a second clone. The only explanation she could think of was that Blake could make two clones at once. She hadn't even known that was possible. Her mind kicked into overdrive as she tried to figure out what to do, but it was too late.
A colossal blow courtesy of Wilt slammed down into Yang's back from above. Her aura flared like the sun, and her legs buckled. Her face hit the ground as she was laid out flat, leaving her feeling like she'd been stepped on by a goliath. Deep inside of Yang, her semblance began to madly boil. She almost slipped up and let the energy loose, but she managed to get herself under control. This was Blake she was up against, one of the most cunning fighters she knew. If she used her semblance at anything other than the perfect moment she would be sure to lose.
Yang pushed herself to her feet, alarmed at the way she wobbled a bit. She immediately spotted two more Blakes running for her. She no longer had any guess as to which Blake might have been real or not, so she cocked her fist back and hoped she was about to get lucky.
A quick punch from Yang sent a bolt surging toward one Blake who unfortunately turned out to be a clone. Equally unfortunate, the other Blake turned out to be the real deal, and before Yang could punch again, Wilt slashed across her gut, making her skin crawl and her aura waver.
Yang staggered backward, trying to find her balance, but Blake struck again. This time Yang stumbled sideways from the unseen blow. It was then that she finally realized she was in serious trouble. For just a brief moment she was tempted to surrender. Had she been fighting anyone else other than Blake she never would have even considered it. However, Blake's life was at stake. Surrender wasn't an option.
Another blow from the side sent Yang reeling in the other direction. She finally managed to catch herself, and when she looked up she saw three Blakes running toward her from three different angles. Rather than panic, Yang squeezed her hands into fists. She waited for the Blakes to close in. Then she raised both of her fists up high and slammed them down into the ground.
An explosion of lightning erupted from where Yang was standing, and an electric shock wave rushed outward. Both of Blake's clones were obliterated by the blast while the real Blake raised her arms to defend herself. Her boots scraped against the rocky ground and left trails in the snow as she was pushed backward.
The wave of electricity finally dissipated, and for just a moment, silence engulfed the plateau before the sound of the wind returned. Smoke wafted off of Blake's arms as she lowered them. Yang raised her fists, but then the energy engulfing her bracers finally ran dry. The electric crackle faded to nothing.
Yang realized things had gotten truly dire. That last stunt of hers had used up the last of her Dust, and she was feeling the strain from all the hits she'd taken. Her aura was still holding, somehow, but it wasn't going to last much longer. The only trick she had left to play was her semblance, but there was no way Blake wouldn't be expecting it.
Across from Yang, Blake was standing like the indomitable High Leader she was. But Yang knew her too well. It was all a ruse. Blake's aura couldn't have been in good shape either. And while she hadn't taken quite the pounding that Yang had, she had pushed her semblance to its absolute limit. It had to have been exhausting.
Blake suddenly lowered her sword. She returned it to its sheath. Then she coiled her legs. Yang saw what was going on. Blake was going to try to end the battle with one last stroke. She was going to try to break Yang's aura and finish her off before she'd had the chance to use her semblance.
Many different scenarios were already playing out in Yang's head. She supposed she could always unleash her semblance right now, but then all Blake would have to do was evade her until she inevitably burnt herself out. But the only other choice she saw was to let the battle play out on Blake's terms. She and Blake might have been in a standoff, but Blake ultimately held all the cards.
Yang realized this was it. The next moment would determine the fate of herself, Blake, the White Fang, everyone. Yang braced herself, ready to meet her destiny. Then she said to Blake, "Well? What are you—?"
Before Yang could finish, Blake moved almost faster than the eye could follow. One second she was standing in front of Yang. The next she was a blur. She streaked past Yang and appeared on the other side of her with Wilt drawn and thrust forward. Then everything went still.
Blake slowly lowered Wilt. She dragged it across Blush before sliding it back into its sheath. A second passed. Then Yang collapsed onto her hands and knees. Her aura flickered wildly over her body.
Blake turned to face Yang again and calmly walked up to her. She quietly asked, "Why?"
Yang didn't answer as she struggled to hold herself together.
"Why?" Blake asked again, louder this time. Her voice was drenched in pain.
"It was…the only way…" Yang said so softly that even Blake would struggle to hear her.
Blake took a step closer to Yang.
"…to save you…" Yang finished. Then, in a burst of speed, she suddenly sprung to her feet.
Yang's fist came rushing up at Blake, and for one brief moment, she lit up like a supernova. Fire erupted from her, and her fist slammed into Blake's face. Blake's mask split clean in half as Yang's punch plowed through it, and Blake went lurching into the air. Wilt and Blush were knocked from her hand, and the glow of her aura fading was lost against the burning brilliance of Yang's semblance.
Yang hadn't even finished following through with her punch before the flames from her semblance died and her aura collapsed completely.
The two halves of Blake's mask fluttered to the ground in front of Yang a moment before Blake herself slammed back down onto the plateau. Blake had landed almost halfway between Yang and the edge of the cliff. She didn't get back to her feet or even try to move. Although a quiet groan did escape her. Wilt and Blush hit the ground a moment later, considerably closer to the cliff.
Yang was struggling to stay on her feet. Her semblance was spent, her aura was gone, and her heart was broken beyond repair. But she couldn't rest yet. She wearily trudged over to Blake's sword. With a swift kick she sent it tumbling over the edge of the cliff. She watched as it vanished into the void below.
Yang turned and approached Blake. Blake was lightly rocking back and forth, only semi-conscious. Yang grabbed the front of Blake's robes and started dragging her toward the cliff. When she got to the edge, she paused. There were a dozen ways for Blake to survive what was about to happen, but only if she was awake.
"Blake," Yang said softly.
A twitch of Blake's head indicated that she'd heard Yang.
"Blake," Yang said again.
Blake started coming to. Her eyes fluttered open.
Yang's resolve almost failed her at the last moment, but she tapped into the very last of her strength and hauled Blake up. Then she levered Blake over her hip and threw her off the cliff into the open air.
Blake's eyes met Yang's just before she disappeared into the misty fog below. Blake didn't express any fear, but her look of cruel betrayal burned its way into Yang's very soul. It was an image that Yang knew would haunt her for the rest of her life.
Yang turned to face the assembled White Fang members, many of who had scrambled back to keep from getting caught up in the titanic clash they'd just witnessed. Yang wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on the spot, but she found the energy to shout, "The High Leader is dead!"
"No!" an anguished cry came back. Ilia suddenly burst forth from the crowd, her rapier drawn. She charged at Yang with a feral look in her eyes and a guttural cry of rage on her lips.
Yang realized this was the last piece of the puzzle she'd been trying to solve. She watched with a dull expression as Ilia closed the distance between them. And when Ilia reached her, she made no attempt to defend herself.
The blade of Ilia's rapier pierced Yang's gut and ran her clean through. The only sound Yang made was a small grunt. Her body jerked forward, and her stolen White Fang mask was knocked off her face. She slumped against Ilia.
Ilia looked stupefied by what she'd done. She'd clearly expected Yang to put up a fight.
Yang's arms and legs suddenly felt like they were made of jelly, but she managed to put her hand on Ilia's shoulder. She leaned in close to Ilia's ear and whispered, "All. Hail. The High Leader."
Yang summoned up the very last dredges of energy she had left and pushed Ilia away. Ilia's rapier slid out of Yang's belly. Yang staggered back and tumbled off the edge of the cliff. She fell, and the clouds of the winter storm swallowed her whole.
Author's Note: All hail the High Leader.