Blood and Wind, a rwby fanfic

…

And so the demons arrived,
bringing death and ruin in their wake.
Mankind witnessed their power and trembled,
for none could stand against them.

But some put their faith in the Light,
taking up arms to destroy the dreaded
Creatures of Grimm, the shadows of Hell.
They fought to save the world.

However… all is not as it seems.
Only the wisest may truly comprehend-

For the brighter the Light,
the darker the Shadow.

…

The sky glowed crimson red.

It was always red in the twilight hours, redder still at the coming of the dawn. Red; the color of passion, of war, of anger and rage. It was equal parts beautiful and terrible. Gorgeous and hideous. Yet no matter the case, the color red always denoted a coming shift in the order of things, as day turns to night and back again. Red signaled a change on the horizon. An end and a beginning.

Small wonder Ruby had chosen it for her heraldry; upon her shoulders rested a crimson riding cloak ablaze with the light of the setting sun, an ethereal countenance that regularly left ordinary civilians in awe. Perfect colors were capable of pulling out emotions in those who observed them, and her cloak was an excellent example of this phenomenon in action. People respected the red knight.

Ruby Agnes Rose, 22 years of age, proudly held the title of Captain of the Knights Templar of the Holy Order of Saint Aesop. It was not a title given lightly, yet all who knew her would agree that she had more than earned it. There was no other Templar more fierce in battle, more devoted to her faith, nor more adamant in her hatred of the Grimm than Ser Rose. Legends of her prowess had already begun to spread among the common folk, even though she had only been serving the Church for a relative few years. Her single-minded drive to destroy all things evil had inspired the Half-King to bestow upon her another title, one more fitting her spirit than her station; the Red Death.

Captain Rose, as she was better known to her troops and fellow Templars, waited upon her great Mistralian steed for their scout to return. She wore her full suit of armor today, as she always did while outside the Church walls; hammered steel plates riveted together at key points to allow full range of motion without sacrificing any defense. The plates were burnished metal, key pieces lacquered black while others were covered with the same scarlet fabric as her cloak. Upon her chest was emblazoned the crest of her family, a crimson rose in full bloom, in a silver casting with lines of black lacquer and inset with precious stones. When compared to the armor of the rank-and-file soldiers of the Royal Forces, it was beyond ostentatious – for a devout Warrior of the Church, however, it was perfect.

Her helmet bore a carved face-plate – a 'Visage' – crafted to resemble the face of the Angel of Death, or at least the face as depicted in the Illuminated Scriptures. Obviously no one knew Her true countenance and lived to tell the tale, so an artist's rendering was the only resource available to the steel-smith. Stern eyebrows hung low over two perfectly cut eye sockets, narrow yet deep for her protection, each encircled with pieces of a real gold coin. A thin set of steel lips finished the countenance, these pursed in thought as though she were considering the fate of whatever poor soul lay quivering before her blade. The item was certainly effective; no one among the faithful could gaze upon the Visage of the Red Death for any length.

Upon her back sat the single most important piece of equipment for anyone who answered to the name of Templar; a holy sword, 4-foot long blade sheathed in a scabbard of wood and gilded leather, fitted with a wire-wrapped handle at least two and a half hands long, the pommel and cross-guard simple in design and plated with pure silver. The metal of the blade was standard for those who devoted their lives to vanquishing evil, yet unheard of to the common folk: Damascus Steel, a rare and powerful alloy. Only a handful of monks in the far northern lands knew the secret method to forging it, but all Knights of the Order knew the power held within the layers of folded steel. It was a metal of exceptional purity and density, able to effortlessly rend the flesh of evil itself. Ser Rose's blade bore a pattern that resembled a river, strong and unstoppable, yet with an outward gentleness that belied its true power.

If all went well, Ser Rose would have no need to draw it this day. However, missions of this nature rarely, if ever, went 'well.'

Three others of the Order of Saint Aesop had accompanied her this day, all seated upon their own steeds and each as fully armored as their Captain. These three she knew well, and had fought many a victorious battle by their sides. No one else in the Order would she trust with her life more than these, her sisters.

To her right sat Weiss Schnee, 24 years old, born of a noble family in the northern Kingdom of Mantle. Formerly a member of the Knights Hospitalier, Ser Schnee voluntarily left the healers in order to take a more proactive stance against the plague that continued to ravage their world. She brought with her a truly incredible knowledge of medicine that was sorely lacking among the Templar ranks, along with an advanced understanding of human anatomy. When one knows how the body works, one is far more effective at disabling it, she would oft say. Her old habits usually drove her to shun any fighting and tend to her injured allies first and foremost, an attitude which earned her the name of the White Relief.

Much like her Captain, Ser Schnee's armor was full plate steel riveted for ease of motion. Where it differed was how most of her steel was polished to a fine mirror shine. Her own riding cloak was pure white, befitting her namesake, and her armor was unique among her sisters as it bore dense cushioning at the joints, vital when bestowing care upon the unfortunate. Her Visage was crafted to resemble the helms worn by the Hospitalier, with a long, bird-like beak set beneath two narrow eye slits. Her holy sword rested upon her right hip, the blade slightly longer and thinner than the others and tapered from hilt to tip, but still made of the same Damascus and equally powerful. The blade bore a pattern resembling feathers, delicate yet necessary to guide an arrow on its true course. The steel guard of the sword was broad and round, and the handle only a hand and a half long; Ser Schnee preferred advanced counter-attacking techniques in combat, and as such her blade and matching buckler were tailored to her exact specifications.

By this point in their tenure together, Ser Rose considered Ser Schnee to be one of the most indispensable members of the Order. When selecting troops for any mission, she nearly always chose the White Relief first before filling out the rest of her ranks; Weiss' mere presence was enough that the Captain knew all of her sisters would make it out of any battle alive and well, even if they picked up a few extra scars.

There were whispers that many of the younger Templars considered the White Relief as their surrogate mother, though Ser Rose never saw evidence of this. Were it true, she would understand completely.

To her left sat Blake Belladonna, the sole Faunus in the Order of Saint Aesop. At 25, she was the eldest among her sisters yet also the most soft spoken young woman Ser Rose had ever met; even now there were many questions left unanswered regarding her background. Where had she come from? What led her to join the Order? Lord Ironwood alone knew these answers and declared them unimportant, stating that only Ser Belladonna's fervor in stamping out the Grimm was necessary for his approval. He had assigned her to Captain Rose's unit as soon as she had sworn the oaths and had personally bestowed upon her the title of the Black Scourge.

To look upon the Visage of Ser Belladonna was to behold the face of a cat; her helm featured pointed snout, narrow eyes and tall triangular ears. All of her armor had been lacquered fully black, and the steel plates of its construction were the thinnest and lightest among her sisters, enabling her to move at speeds unheard of for a fully-armored Knight. This ease of movement contributed greatly to the Faunus' fighting style of rapid strikes and misdirection, aiming to get around her enemy's defenses rather than through them. Her holy sword was strapped low upon her back, just above her belt, a far shorter blade than even the Royal Forces were given but no less deadly for it; the smaller size allowed Ser Belladonna to wield it almost as fast as a dagger in the hands of an assassin. The pattern of the blade resembled a night sky filled with stars, and the shape was curved in a way that resembled a crescent moon. Her riding cloak was a velvety black, as would be expected.

Time and again the Black Scourge had proven her loyalty to the Order, yet Captain Rose had not fully placed her trust in the Faunus, nor would she until the mystery of her background was revealed. There were too many unknowns in this strange, cruel world to let one's guard down even for a moment.

Taking the rear position was Yang Xiaolong, a 24-year old young woman from the eastern Kingdom of Mistral. Ser Rose had taken a liking to this one as soon as she passed her trials, and the two had become fast friends within a fortnight. Ser Xiaolong's rambunctious nature was often seen as a detriment to the civility of the Order, but none could deny the strength of spirit she proudly displayed upon the battlefield. Her outstanding physical power along with her unstoppable will combined to earn her the name of the Divine Force; verily she was more often a power of nature than a human being.

Ser Xiaolong was always grinning at the world, and so made certain her Visage grinned as well; curled whiskers and pointed fangs taking up most of the space, it was a countenance created to resemble another beast of legend from the Illuminated Scriptures, the mighty Dragon. Beneath her gold and yellow riding cloak, her burnished armor glittered with gold leaf scroll-work, the steel even more dense and heavy than Ser Ederne's armor which itself was known for being nigh-unbreakable, yet no more restrictive to movement than any other Templar's equipment due to the strength of she who wore it. In fact, Ser Xiaolong had more than enough power left over to wield the single largest blade in the entire Order, a mammoth Greatsword as long as she was tall, the handle more than spacious enough for three large hands and the cross-guard as wide as her shoulders. There was as much Damascus in her weapon as Ser Rose and Ser Schnee's combined, the metal forged in a pattern which perfectly replicated a roaring flame. Rumor had it that she could fell a rider and his horse together in one swing using such a monstrous blade, but thus far the Divine Force had not tried to preform such a brutal attack. At least, not to Captain Rose's knowledge.

Together the sisters could fell any number of enemies that wished harm upon others; Ser Rose would lead the charge, Ser Schnee would heal any injuries, Ser Belladonna would disable the enemy defenses, and Ser Xiaolong would obliterate anything that stood before them. Ser Rose glanced back at her gathered allies and silently prayed for their continued success in the days to come.

She also prayed that they might soon have a chance to secure true peace in this region, preferably today. If that meant blood would have to be shed, be it their own or that of the Cult of the Grimm, then so be it.

Victory was worth the cost.

A horse and rider appeared around the side of the hill just ahead, hooves kicking up a cloud of dust. The rider had her head covered by a wide hood, but Ser Rose easily recognized their scout; Emerald was hard to pin down at times, but overall reliable. Thus far her reports had all been accurate. It helped that the young woman was quite amiable when dealing with the Templars, even if that attitude did not extend to the heads of the Church.

"My Lords," said Emerald as she approached the group. "No activity on the major roads, but the shadows have not been still. The Vanguard awaits your arrival in the village."

"Understood," said the Red Death, her voice echoing in her helmet slightly. "Well done, Emerald. Report to camp and get some rest."

The young woman pressed an arm to her chest and bowed slightly, her typical method of offering a salute, and set her horse at a gallop to ride back where the Knights had come from. Her dusty green cloak fluttered as she passed and Ser Rose caught a glimpse of the gilded daggers upon her back, a reminder that their scout could more than handle herself in the wilds.

The Captain turned back to the road ahead and stared for a moment, studying the landscape. She took up the reigns and kicked her horse into a steady trot without a word. The other three quickly did the same, keeping pace with their leader. Overhead, the sky continued to darken ever so slowly, clouds parting to reveal the first pinpoints of starlight at the far end of the heavens. It was in their best interest to get to the village before nightfall as none of them were carrying torches.

Night was when the power of evil was at its strongest. But the sun would return. It always returned.

…
…

According to the Scriptures, the ancient kingdom of Vacuo was once a thriving, lush woodland filled with life and overflowing with water. People from all over the world traveled here and took their ease. It was a paradise. But then the Creatures of Grimm appeared, some say by accident, others by malicious design, though none living may know the true reason. All that is clear is that the demons ravaged the land and destroyed the kingdom, leaving naught but ruin in their wake. Vacuo today remained in this decayed state – nothing but desert sands as far as the eye could see, craggy rocks and cliffs cut into the land from long-dead rivers, and the blisteringly hot sun that would never show pity. Great skeletal remains were all that was left of this extinct world, many large enough to rival modern castles, arching over the dunes in a manner most found disturbing. No such creatures lived on Remnant today.

Life in Vacuo did not completely perish at the coming of the Grimm, of course. Humans and Faunus alike who called this cursed land home refused to evacuate from it, stubbornly setting down new roots at the edge of the godless sands and declaring themselves as homesteaders. No amount of pressure from the King of Vale had any impact, and so the nomads were generally left alone. No attempt to send occupying troops lasted more than a few weeks, both due to the unrelenting heat and the stubborn locals; they didn't much care for outsiders in Vacuo.

The Red Death led her forces down a gravel path and into a deep valley, at the bottom of which sat a village. This was their destination. It had a mere eight buildings intact, with several more on the outskirts actively being reclaimed by the desert. No one was visible as they approached, but the sounds of hoof-beats drew the curious from their hiding places. At the entrance of the village awaited a squad of six Knights upon horseback, garbed in the armor of the Royal Forces yet bearing sigils that denoted their allegiance was to the Order of Saint Aesop first and foremost. They were the Vanguard, and their presence made clear that the area had been scouted ahead of time and declared safe; no ambushes awaited Ser Rose and her troops, nor any hazards of nature.

As they passed the mounted troops, Ser Rose noted their posture, helms aimed high but shoulders low, and some stains around the joints indicated heavy sweating. All the more reason to finish their business and move on; the Vanguard would not depart, nor even take their ease, until the Templar's business was concluded. Having adequate guards around was a comfort, but knowing those same guards were suffering under the relentless sun gave her cause to make haste. Nightfall would only help so much.

"My Lords!" A cry sounded from a nearby house as a man emerged, his dress indicating he was of some importance among these people. "Oh bless me, you have finally come. Please, my daughter has fallen ill to the cursed plague! You must save her!"

Ser Rose replied in a calm yet stern voice, "Peace unto you, dear sir. Our purpose here is the very thing you ask of us – Weiss, Blake, follow and attend to the girl."

"Yes, Captain," they saluted as one and rode off, following the man as he bowed and pleaded further still. Ser Rose tried not to scowl at the man's attitude.

Ser Xiaolong rode up beside her Captain and quietly said, "What about me?"

"You and I shall take a look around this place. If the plague has appeared at such a remote location as this, it was not by accident."

"You refer to Emerald's message?"

"Indeed. 'The shadows have not been still' – that means she saw something, or someone, that did not wish to be seen. Come, gather some wood for torches. We may be here a while."

…
…

The first reported case of the plague appeared roughly 20 years ago, but it is rumored to have been around as long as the Grimm infestation itself. Human and Faunus alike, men and women of all ages and nationalities, were coming down with a mysterious illness that did almost no damage to the body itself aside from robbing the victim of all their strength, to the point where all they could do was lay down and die. This was normally accompanied only by fever, but in recent days the plague had grown to include many symptoms that suggested a mere cold, giving physicians cause to wonder if they were somehow linked. Those of the Knights Hospitalier considered this plague as the sole cause of their formation, and according to their doctrine it was a plague not of the body… but of the soul. They considered Salvation more effective than medicine in most cases.

Only a single member of the Knights Hospitalier, one Shion Zaiden, had stumbled upon a method for completely nullifying the plague. The technique was more than a little unorthodox and it required extensive teaching in order to pass on the necessary knowledge to other knights, and so even the few healers who had completed that training were overwhelmed with requests to travel the land and lift the cursed plague from all who suffered it. Zaiden had not once rested since making this discovery, continually training new healers until the need was no more. They were far too important. The other Knights Hospitalier had studied the plague ever since their founding and discovered nothing about how it functioned, nor how it spread; Zaiden was the closest to uncovering the truth, yet no further revelations would come until the adequate number of healers had been trained and dispersed throughout the world. It was a high price to pay.

No healers accompanied Captain Rose and her sisters this day as no one could be spared. Ser Schnee knew her way around a medicine kit but had not yet received the proper training to lift the plague in earnest. Lord Ironwood knew this. Therefore, it stood to reason that the Templar's true mission here was not to heal… at least, not in the traditional sense.

A preliminary sweep of the village found no trace of foul play or secret gatherings. Two footpaths led in and out of the village proper, one through the main gate to the west and another, smaller path leading north, into the desert sands, though no Vanguard bothered to station here. The abandoned buildings were empty, the occupied ones locked up tight, and no queer markings or symbols could be seen on any of the exteriors. All in all, the place appeared clean.

Perhaps a bit too clean.

The Red Death stood next to the Divine Force as they gazed into the old well at the edge of town, beneath the shadow of the rocky cliffs. It had grown far too dark to see into the depths of the hole, but there was little chance it had been tampered with; this close to the edge of the godless sands, water was life. To corrupt it would be to damn them all, not just a single young woman. Not even the Cult was that foolish.

That said, someone with the knowledge of Ser Rose could not truly know what signs to look for on a desert well to determine if it had indeed been sabotaged. Ser Xiaolong busied herself pulling up a bucket of water so they could see the state of it directly.

Just as the sun dipped below the horizon, Ser Belladonna appeared from around a corner. Her Visage remained shut, though her glittering amber-colored eyes could be seen sparkling through the holes. "I bring ill tidings," she said quietly. "Your fears were justified, Captain; it is indeed the plague. The White Relief can do nothing save make the child comfortable." She turned to see what her fellows were examining and said, her voice taking on a darker tone, "Has the well been contaminated?"

Ser Rose lifted her Visage out of the way and shook her head as Ser Xiaolong brought up the bucket, its contents spilling out only a little, "I do not believe so. The sands may be reclaiming the village, but the faces herein retain their spirit; they have not yet given up, as would be the case if their source of life had been tainted. What say you, sister?"

After taking off her helm, Ser Xiaolong removed a gauntlet and dipped a finger into the bucket, tasted it, then took a hearty swallow directly from the bucket. "-Ahh, refreshing. It is not terribly clean, but it is mere water."

"There are many poisons in this world with no taste," Ser Belladonna sighed audibly, "What are we supposed to do if you took ill from such recklessness?"

"As I'm sure you remember, the White Relief has plenty of herbs that can help me… purge myself if needed."

"I do remember, sister; there is not enough ale in the Four Kingdoms to help me forget our mission last month. At least we know you will be more careful around colorful mushrooms now."

"Hey, they tasted fine after I roasted 'em."

"Anyway." Ser Rose cleared her throat and considered her options. "Did the girl's family seem at all suspicious?"

"They did not," Ser Belladonna shook her head slightly. "Neither did I see any effects in their home that would suggest darker connections."

Ser Xiaolong put her gauntlets back on as she walked back around to join her fellows. "Shall I begin searching the homes? Now that it is dark, the people will not be so put out-"

"Nay," Ser Rose cut her off and closed her Visage once again. She thought for a moment and spoke, her voice echoing inside her helm, "We are Templars, not officers of the Royal Forces. We have one duty, and one duty alone; these 'investigations' do not become us. Go forth and bring everyone in the village together so I may address them as one. God will solve this mystery."

…
…

Within minutes the entire village had gathered in the open square, most still fully dressed but a few missing various garments; night had fallen, and Ser Xiaolong was not the most patient member of the Order. They all stood facing one end of the square, all looking up at the imposing figure of the Captain of the Knights Templar of the Holy Order of Saint Aesop. Ser Rose stood on a low roof to address the villagers:

"Brothers and Sisters of the Light, hear me! It is natural for a man to have doubts in his life, but in the embrace of God shall all doubts be lifted. He shall find comfort, as do all who place their faith in His Light. However, it would seem one among you has turned away from the path of righteousness, away from God – the presence of the plague in your home is evidence enough."

The Red Death paused here, letting her words sink in. Nobody argued, but plenty of faces began muttering to one another in fear and uncertainty. Ser Xiaolong and Ser Belladonna each stood watch on opposing sides, both looking for any signs of a traitor.

"If you would submit yourself to us, whomever you are, I promise you will be treated with mercy; the judgment of the Light is always fair to those who deserve it-"

One man on the edge of the crowd turned and bolted.

Ser Rose muttered, "Mistake…"

Ser Belladonna wasted no time catching up with the man, even from the opposite side of the crowd, and sent flying a handful of her blades – little more than sharpened rounds of normal steel, they were lethal in the hands of the Faunus and could be thrown with uncanny accuracy. The traitor had taken no more than a dozen steps before his legs were cut out from under him and he fell with a cry of pain. Ser Belladonna was on him in a heartbeat, her sword in her hand.

With the speed of Ser Belladonna, Ser Rose was far less inclined to summon the White Relief away from her bedside vigil for help in this matter. No mere human could escape the Black Scourge.

Ser Rose caught up to them a moment later, Ser Xiaolong right behind her, as the man continued to fight his captor; Ser Belladonna took a moment to restrain both of his arms and said, "Only the guilty run! Confess your sins or face retribution-"

The man turned and spat into her Visage. When he looked at the gathered knights, Ser Rose tensed up; his eyes betrayed his true loyalties, blazing yellow pupils glared from a field of darkest black, deeper than the night sky. "Light-blinded scum!" he barked, spittle flying from his lips. "You and your band of sheep are only delaying the inevitable! The Eternal Night is upon us! LONG LIVE THE NIGHT AND ITS MISTRESS! !"

He worked his jaw for a moment and bit down before anyone could stop him. Within moments the man was foaming at the mouth and twitching, but he would insult the Light no more. His demonic eyes continued to glow with a faint inner fire in spite of the fact his soul, and his life, was forfeit.

"A Death Stone," Ser Belladonna hissed as she stood back up. "Typical of the Cult of the Grimm. I would wager he was the source of the young woman's illness."

Ser Xiaolong bent down to see the body a little more closely and sighed, "Poison again… why do they always take the Coward's Choice? Do none of these wretches know the meaning of honor?"

"Unlikely," said Blake with a heavy sigh.

Captain Ruby Agnes Rose reached back and drew her sword from its sheath. At once the gathered crowd gave cries of fear and staggered back, no longer willing to get within range. Ser Rose looked upon her weapon, gazing into the swirling channels of folded steel quenched with Holy Water, and gave a silent prayer, "May your soul find solace in the embrace of the Light of God."

She turned the mighty blade around, pointed it at the dead body, and plunged it down in the sacred act of purification. The reaction was immediate – as soon as the holy sword made contact with the contaminated flesh, a black cloud erupted from the man's mouth and eyes, lingered over his face for a moment, then dissolved with an audible cry of pain. Only when everything had gone still again would the Templar dare remove her blade.

Ser Rose bent down and took a closer look, finding the man's eyes had returned to their normal white with brown pupils. She closed his eyelids slowly, then stood and wiped her blade on her riding cloak.

"Hopefully this means the child might recover soon," said Ser Xiaolong. "I mean… if he was the source of the plague-"

"He was only the carrier," Ser Schnee said as she appeared from behind the crowd, her Visage raised to let her see the scene more clearly. "The best we can hope is that he was alone, and that no more souls may be corrupted in the same way as she."

"Agreed," said Ser Belladonna. "This will not be over until Zaiden's healers reach this place and remove the plague for good. We have done all we can."

Ser Rose returned her clean blade to its resting place, the metallic hiss effectively cutting off the conversation. Ser Rose waited a moment, turned and said, "Not quite yet. Have this man's home thoroughly searched by the Vanguard, I'm sure they would appreciate having something else to do. Cult members always possess some sort of proof of their allegiance to the Shadow, and you know Sir Ebi will want to get his hands on all of it. While you are on your way, search the other homes after all; we cannot afford to assume he was indeed alone in this place."

As the other two set out to do as she commanded, the Divine Force stayed behind a moment. Even with her Visage lowered, the grin in her voice was audible, "Are we 'investigating' now?"

The Red Death growled, "I want these godless heathens wiped off the map as quick as possible, the same as Lord Ironwood. If that means I must scour every nook and cranny, flush out every gutter, and burn out every hiding hole to drive them into the Light, then so be it."

…
…

Nearly two hours later, the mission was complete and the knights were back at camp. Captain Rose sat outside the medical tent nursing a mug of weak ale, thinking back on the events of the evening.

The man who had sold his eternal soul was truly alone, as no other home in the village contained any trace of the Cult, though his own domicile contained all of the expected trinkets; a queer pendant and several vials of foul liquid the purpose of which only the Hospitalier might know. Most disturbing of all was the revelation that the man was the father of the girl who had fallen ill of the plague. It was possible he transmitted it unwittingly, but far more likely he bestowed it upon her in full knowledge. The Cult of the Grimm was not known for having 'accidents.'

In fact, they were normally almost impossible to detect. Whoever – or whatever – gave the orders in their hierarchy did not usually leave such a blatant trail to follow, nor a follower who would break with a mere speech. The Scriptures declared God as a being that saw all, one whose ways were beyond that of mortal man, but even so… this all seemed too convenient.

The more she turned this nugget of information over in her mind, the more disturbed she became. She took a swallow of her drink and tried to calm herself.

Ruby rarely ever removed her helmet, much less her Visage, outside the safety of the Church's walls, but here in camp she could trust her fellows to keep them all safe. Her blood-red hair was kept short, only the parts highest on her head being allowed to get even a few inches long; short hair was easier keep clean and less of a hassle to fit inside a full-plate helmet. Her brilliant silver eyes remained mostly shut in concentration, in contrast to the rest of her face that had once been described by Ser Xiaolong as having a 'softness to rival that of a newborn babe.' The woman had been made to run several laps around the Churchyard for that comment.

Speaking of whom… "You seem troubled, sister." Ser Xiaolong wandered over, a mug in her own hands wavering dangerously, her unguarded face glowing red to suggest that this was not her first beer of the evening. Her golden hair was also cut short, but not by quite as much; hers fell just below her ears, plenty short enough to fit into her helm. "If your spirits require lifting, perhaps we might find a wench? I know the Royal Forces stationed here brought a few with them-"

Ser Rose sighed but did not chastise her fellow Templar; that was simply how Yang was outside of battle. Trying to correct her mindset was akin to yelling at the sky to call forth a rainstorm – nothing would come of it save for a sore throat. "I don't believe that will be necessary, sister. You know as well as I that nothing less than the eradication of all evil will ease my temperament."

Yang hiccuped and shrugged, "Worth a try."

"Only for one such as you," said Ser Schnee as she and Ser Belladonna came to join them. Both women also had their own helms removed, revealing faces far more fair than Ser Rose, no matter what the Divine Force may claim. Blake's ebony hair was the longest among the four, but it still only fell to the base of her jaw, while Weiss had the shortest; her white hairdo was kept very closely cropped to her head, a remnant of her time with the Knights Hospitalier. Both seemed at ease now, yet the state of their Captain was clearly a matter of concern. Neither woman carried a mug, though Weiss was chewing on a piece of jerky.

"Meat?" Yang grinned. "I didn't know the Knights Hospitalier were allowed such luxuries."

Weiss glanced at her snack and gave a half-hearted shrug. "Tradition forbids it, but I've always found the idea a little silly. Yes this used to be a living creature, but so too were plants before harvest. All living creatures feed upon each other in some way to survive. It is the natural way in this fallen world."

"The Grimm don't follow nature, do they?" said Yang. "They simply spread across the world, destroying life on a whim."

"That is why we must destroy them," nodded Weiss.

"Amen."

Blake, ever the observant Faunus, gave one of her short cat-like ears a flick as she looked at Ruby. "You are troubled. Does your mind return to the Cultist?"

"It does, him and all the others of his ilk. How many have we purified?" Ruby sighed deeply. "How many more must we cleanse from this world before they learn they are wrong to shun the Light?"

"Does not the Scripture speak of such people?" Weiss cleared her throat, "I recall many passages that refer to fools, and how they will stubbornly follow their chosen road into the depths of the Abyss…"

Ruby took a long swallow from her mug, emptying it, and said, "Quite a few, in fact. The verse that speaks to my heart is, 'A fool finds pleasure in wicked schemes, but a person of understanding delights in wisdom.'"

Yang smiled, "I remember that one. Commander Cordovin is quite fond of it as well."

"It serves as a good reminder that our enemies will try to ensnare us every step of the way, without remorse or guilt," Ruby stood up and stretched, finally allowing herself a moment to breathe. "That does not make it any easier to accept, of course."

Blake stepped forward and put a hand on Ruby's shoulder. "There are many in this world who feel as you do, Captain. Sadly there are just as many who do not, and the sweet words of the Cult are as honey in their ears. Anyone can be won over by those who wield words with the same skill as we with our blades."

Ruby glanced at Blake's hand, then at the Faunus herself. Were she not so distracted by the death of the villager, Ruby would have taken her sister's words as an implied hint, a suggestion that she was more intimate with the Cult of the Grimm than she had first let on. It was also possible that her mind was simply being affected by the ale, but she had no way to be sure of that until the morrow.

For tonight she decided to excuse her worries as unwarranted. They may not have fought a true battle against armed foes intent on sending them to see their God, but they had faced a great evil and come away unscathed. If such a feat was not worthy of celebration, then whatever could be?

Captain Rose imbibed a few hours longer into the night than was her norm, her sisters at her side, drinking and quietly singing their favorite hymns in gentle communion. Ruby was the last to turn in, but only because she insisted on completing her fellows Evening Prayers on their behalf so they may sleep. The matter of Ser Belladonna's true loyalty did not disturb Ser Rose again that night.

Ruby remained true to her word and completed their prayers in silent vigil. Her body may only be a temporary form in the eyes of the world, a mere wisp of fog lasting only the morning before burning away, but her bonds of friendship were vitally important to her. And never more so than when it concerned the eternal soul.

…
…

The following morning, a sudden message prevented the Templars from leaving the main camp of the Royal Forces. They were to hold and await further orders. Ruby chaffed at this, but she was not foolish enough to defy a command from the Church itself. No details were provided as to how long they had to wait, but that was not her main concern; the Cult of the Grimm was still out there, and every hour that passed was another hour they could use to spread their ungodly plague to another innocent.

Morning became noon. Ser Rose tried not to pace within her tent as was her wont, for the heat of the desert would rob her of all strength even within the safety of the camp. Each of the others passed the time in the own ways, though they did not speak to anybody, nor were they spoken to.

The Royal Forces did not answer to the Church directly; rather, they were the hands of the Half-King and fought battles in his name. They were his military, and as such were well-supplied for whatever quest they were to undertake. Every three to four soldiers shared a tent for sleeping while larger tents acted as shelter for the non-combat elements such as cooks and leatherworkers. A long line of makeshift stables always lined their encampment at a location downwind of the men for obvious reasons. Numerous wagons were stationed near the center of the encampment, ready and waiting to carry everything while the men marched. Scattered among these were the food stores, a vital and frequently replenished part of the caravan that had a handful of guards around it at all times. It was a system honed to perfection over several decades, and the men had become quite proficient at it.

Captain Rose and her Templars were given somewhat nicer accommodations, though not by a wide margin; every knight accompanying the Forces had his or her own tent for sleep and prayers, as well as to to house their own equipment to repair their arms, but they still supped with the other soldiers. The tents themselves were nicer, better able to withstand the elements, yet there was no comparison to the stone walls of the Church. Still, it was more than good enough for someone of Ser Rose's rank.

And then there was Commander Cordovin. She would never settle for 'good enough.'

Her own private caravan arrived with some fanfare only a few hours before the sun set, and the second-in-command of the Order of Saint Aesop had her men rapidly set up an entire building for her to take her posts and planks for the walls, thin tiles to act as a floor, and even bales of thatch to string up over her head as insulation against the relentless sun, her quarters were even more luxurious than the army commanders and generals. Were they not in the desert, Ruby knew for certain the woman would have found a way to bring ice along to cool her chambers down.

The gilded armor of a Templar was a gift from the clergy, signifying the knight's adherence to the Order and devotion to the Light. However, a display like this bordered on pride, the deadliest of sins. Ser Rose would eat her boots before saying such a thing out loud, of course. There were few ways to guarantee excommunication from the church, but the most efficient was blaspheming against a cardinal.

Roughly an hour after her arrival, Cordovin finally found time in her schedule to summon Ser Rose and her companions. She reclined in the shade of her quarters, attended by two towering Templars that acted as her personal guard. Were it not for the grandiose display of wealth, you would be forgiven for assuming the old woman in the chair was a toddy old fool who wouldn't remember what she had eaten five minutes after finishing her meal. This was far from the case for Caroline Cordovin, a woman who was often said to be sharper than any sword and twice as deadly. A crown of silvery hair sat upon a round face with only a hint of wrinkles beneath two intense brown eyes. Cordovin often stared at her charges much like a hawk sizing up its prey before diving in for the kill. Some say she studied them. Others that she could peer into their souls and glean their deepest secrets. Even now she had those brown eyes fixed on Ser Rose, a hand beneath her chin as she spared only furtive glances at the other three Templars.

"…" Captain Rose did not dare speak first, though the temptation was so very strong. She and her sisters had waited all day when they could have been scouting the countryside. They could have been doing something with their time. Her patience had just about dried up.

"Eager to leave, are you?" Cordovin asked in a way that almost sounded like a statement. "I wonder… is it frustration that drives you, or a desire to please your betters?"

"I desire only to fulfill my oaths," Ruby said slowly, keeping her words on a leash so as not to accidentally bite any heads off.

Cordovin pointed, "And yet in the last month, what have you achieved? A mere two Cultists dead – not by your own hand, mind – and a full dozen of God's children fallen to the plague. Tell me, Ser Rose… do you ever grow tired of failing?"

Ruby clenched her teeth until they almost cracked. This was Cordovin's way, and she was damn good at it. "I am not a failure in the eyes of God," she said even more slowly.

One of Cordovin's eyes twitched. Good. Calling upon their true authority was the only reliable way to counter the woman's barbs. A vein became visible on Cordovin's forehead as she said, "A Captain… of the Knights Templar… of the Holy Order of Saint Aesop… should have no need to justify herself in such a way. Her actions would speak in her place. And you have nearly nothing to your name. I have watched your career long enough to know that my Lord Ironwood made his one and only mistake in promoting a child like you to a higher rank than you deserve."

Ruby clenched her fists hard enough to draw blood from her nails. Only the grace of God kept her from flying into a rage in that moment.

"Yet I cannot supersede his will," Cordovin sighed and leaned back in her chair. "You have been named Captain, regardless of my feelings on the matter, and a Captain you shall remain. It is unfortunate… but I will have to do everything in my power to support you from here on out. Be grateful, child. Under my guidance, you may yet accomplish great things."

"I answer to Lord Ironwood alone-"

"Not anymore," Cordovin grinned, a look that sent shivers down Ruby's spine. "I am now the Field Marshall of the Royal Forces and all Templars in this region. That includes you. No one shall move from this encampment without my express permission."

One of the Templars at her side produced a rolled paper and held it up before the gathered knights. Even from a distance, the important words were legible and confirmed what had been claimed. Lord Ironwood's seal was also plainly visible at the bottom. Ruby could only stare in shock while Weiss, Blake and Yang shifted on their feet behind her, clearly agitated as well.

"Do I make myself clear, Captain?"

Ruby quickly pressed an arm to her chest and bowed, copying the salute of their wayward scout, then turned on her heels and marched away as quickly as she could. The others followed close behind.

Surely this day could not get worse.

…
…

"I hear tell that Commander Cordovin is only out here to keep her out of Veil," said Yang with a chuckle. "Neither Lord Ironwood nor His Majesty desire to have her anywhere near the Temple of the Light."

Ruby glared at her tankard and said nothing.

Weiss added, "She's been like this ever since Zaiden overruled her command and kept the Knights Hospitalier in the village of Argus, healing nearly a hundred lives that would otherwise have been forfeit."

All four Templars sat around a cookfire just outside their tents, all drinking from tankards of ale and mulling over their new situation. Most of the Royal Forces were in a similar state; Cordovin had a well-deserved reputation among the clergy, and the vast majority of the men were none too happy about the change in leadership.

Lieutenant Commander Rumpole joined them this evening, a woman almost as small in stature as Cordovin yet no less intimidating for it. She had acted as the sole command of this regiment for several years after being promoted by General Theodore, and this day marked the first real challenge to her authority. Her armor was fairly standard for the Royal Forces, albeit more refined in design so as to accommodate a woman's frame; female soldiers were not unheard of, but for one to rise in the ranks of a man's world was considered nothing less than miraculous. She refused to cut her sandy brown hair short, utterly detesting military helmets, and so allowed it to grow long enough to sweep the ground behind her as she walked.

The small woman sat next to Captain Rose, also nursing a tankard of ale but with far less hostility towards it. "Well… I suppose this is where my military career comes to an end, eh?"

Blake said, "Do you believe she would demote you?"

"Oh no, she's not that blunt." Rumpole downed the contents of her tankard and said, "What she'll do is put pressure on me to cut my hair and 'fit in' with the rest of the men. And when that happens, my only choice will be to step down or hang for treason."

Yang said, "I wish I could say that sounds like nonsense, but…"

"…We all know that woman would do it," Weiss finished.

"As long as I remain, she will pay you no mind," Ruby said into her tankard, still frowning. "Commander Cordovin is already preparing the rope for my neck as we speak."

After a moment's pause, Rumpole spoke again, "Her hostility towards you may not be based in hatred or disgust…"

"I do not wish to dwell on that tonight," Ser Rose said quickly before downing the rest of her own beverage. "All I want is… more ale."

"Perhaps I can be of some assistance?"

Emerald appeared at the edge of the firelight bearing not one but four fresh tankards. There were smiles all around as she handed them out to the Templars – excepting Weiss, who refused for reasons of her own – and took a seat next to Yang across from Ser Rose. Rumpole took the final tankard. All five companions imbibed together, Weiss with a flask of water, as Ruby let loose a mighty belch and blinked at her cup. "This is…?"

"'Arizal's Dream,' the only brew produced by the Badiola family. Rare stuff. Been saving it for a special occasion." Emerald nodded towards the distant building wherein their new commander was no doubt indulging in frivolous pastimes. "Now that she's here, I doubt I can keep it hidden any longer."

"And so we hide it in our bellies," Rumpole grinned. "Clever."

"I must admit…" Emerald took a stick and poked at the fire for a moment, "I did not expect Cordovin to target my Lords so blatantly. I know full well that she is aware of your recent exploits in full, yet she felt compelled to ignore them? Shameful."

"What exactly has she done to believe herself to be so far above us?" Yang grumbled mostly to herself. "Her years of serving as Ironwood's Right Hand is going to her head, I say."

"Pray lower your voice, sister," said Weiss. "She may not be accepted by all, but even Cordovin has her loyalists."

Rumpole said, "She has a long history of successful missions, but the one thorn in her side is the Ruins of Shade. No one has been able to penetrate that place since our crusade started, not even her. And I happen to know she takes that personally."

The Ruins of Shade. Even after nearly a hundred years of this war, the name alone sent shivers down Captain Rose's back.

Out in the desert, almost further than mankind could venture, sat a massive pyramid structure unlike anything else on Remnant. No one could physically reach it for the Grimm that called the sands home, and so no one could ever study it and determine the answers to mankind's most prominent mysteries. Inside that place, many believed, was the truth about where the Grimm came from and why they attack humanity. It was the sole purpose for the crusade in the first place.

Of course Cordovin wanted to get in. So did everyone else who ever led a campaign in this drawn-out crusade. Even Ruby would admit the prospect was intriguing.

"If Cordovin is a woman who respects actions over words," Emerald cut in, tapping a finger to her chin and smiling enigmatically, "…then what say we demonstrate?"

All eyes turned to the scout. Ser Rose said, "What are you suggesting?"

"My contacts have directed me towards a secluded spot a few miles out from here, in the shadow of Branwen Rock. It faces the Ruins directly. According to them, this place is host to a gathering of Cultists on nights when the full moon shines." Emerald locked eyes with each Templar in turn. "I have seen proof of this, but I knew not who to trust with my information. And I could never engage a crowd of adversaries by myself."

Ser Rose quickly found the moon, just rising over the edge of the dunes. It was full. They could reach Branwen Rock tonight if they hurried. The idea of engaging a meeting of the Grimm Cult was already getting her pulse racing.

"I can already tell what you're going to do, Captain." Rumpole stood up with a light groan and stretched. "Don't worry, I won't stop you. And I heard nothing."

"All the better." Ser Rose stood quickly, urging the others to do the same. "We have little time. Take only what you need, the rest is up to God." Ser Schnee, Belladonna and Xiaolong made a grunt of agreement, no one speaking too loudly.

All four ducked into their tents and gathered their swords and shields before making their way to the stables, Emerald in the lead. They all quietly mounted their horses, only slightly surprised that the guards decided to ignore their section of the camp for a time (no doubt on Rumpole's 'suggestion'), and rode out through the darkened south gate.

No alarm was raised, nor shouts echoed into the evening. They had escaped unseen. Emerald led the Templars around a corner before pulling out and a lighting a torch. She turned her horse and started galloping. Ser Rose and the others followed, guiding their steeds as best as they could down a dark dirt path.

Ser Rose's heartbeat was now pounding in her ears. This mission may well mark her last. Even if they succeeded in bringing every last Cultist back to camp, she may still face retribution. But that was fine. The mission was all that mattered.

Evil must be exterminated. No matter the cost.

…
…

The Cult of the Grimm, as they were known, had begun to spread among the Four Kingdoms like a wildfire several years ago. Their origins remained a mystery to this day, regardless of the efforts of both the Templars and the Royal Forces to cut them down. Many innocents had fallen before them, more still brought to their side and away from the Light. They oft declared the coming of their Eternal Night and some kind of 'Mistress,' though no one of their number lived long enough to elaborate. Information about the Cult's inner workings was worth double its weight in gold, whether it was legitimate or not.

Emerald led the knights into the desert, keeping close to a line of rocks that jutted forth from the cliffs wherein the village lay. The sands had not yet eaten away at these, and so the path underfoot remained stable. They rode hard for several minutes before reaching a corner where Emerald bid them halt. Branwen Rock lay just ahead, and beneath it a natural amphitheater where the heathens were no doubt gathering even now.

Without another word, Ser Rose and her sisters pulled their animals to a stop and dismounted, each drawing their weapons. All said silent prayers as they prepared their souls for battle-

"That's far enough, milady."

In the still night air, a new sound met the ears of Ser Rose: creaking wood and taught bowstring. Over a dozen shapes materialized around the party, each with a bow and arrow aimed directly at one of them. The arrowheads gleamed in the torchlight, all wickedly long and razor sharp. Bodkins. At this range, even the armor of the Templars would not save them.

"What is the meaning of this?" barked Ruby.

"Aww…" Emerald suddenly cooed, "And here I thought you were the smart one."

The one lit torch went out, smothered in the sand. The Knight Captain observed that their scout had moved around to join their attackers… and her eyes were glowing with the same yellow fire as the man from earlier today.

She was one of them.

"Traitor!" The Red Death snarled as she raised her sword, but the blade wavered in her hands. "You will pay for this… this… outrage… w-what?" The sword fell to the rocks, clattering loudly. The knight herself fell to her knees a moment later.

"Ahh~ silly Templars. So trusting. Always willing to share in a drink every night. Never thinking anyone would offer a… tainted brew." Emerald's voice dripped with more smug than Ser Rose had ever heard before.

Poison. That ale had been poisoned, and she drank it all like a fool!

Another clatter sounded from nearby, this one significantly louder. Right after came the voice of the White Relief, "Yang! Not you too…!"

Rage boiled within Ser Rose, but her body refused to obey her commands. "You… you will… pay for this…"

"More like be paid," Emerald confidently strode forward, kicked the holy weapon aside, yanked off the woman's helmet and knelt down to stare Ser Rose in the face. Those hideous eyes of hers continued to glow with the fires of the Abyss as one hand drew a dagger. "We've been aiming for those lovely eyes of yours for quite some time, you know. Once I cut them out of your sorry excuse for a head, I'll become an Acolyte for the Mistress for certain."

The Mistress of the Eternal Night. All doubts were now washed away as to the true loyalties of their former scout. And in her heart of hearts, Ser Rose knew exactly what to do about that…

No forgiveness. No mercy.

Summoning as much of her strength as possible, she tried to reach out and grab Emerald by the neck. The green-haired woman didn't even try to swat her away; she knew the poison was hitting hard. "Don't bother. Sleeping Potion won't kill you, but you certainly won't have the strength to stop us from doing the job."

"Not… … … alone… … …"

"…?"

"WEISS!"

At the sound of the command, Ser Rose heard a rustling and squeezed her eyes shut just in time – the world around them all flared into brilliant, blinding white, painful even through her eyelids. Emerald and the other Cultists cried out in agony.

The sound of flying blades came next, and their agony quickly became pure pain. Ser Belladonna had outstanding aim, no matter the light. Blake would not waver this day, as she had confessed to Ruby in secret that she had spent much of her childhood developing a strong immunity to many kinds of poisons, and all for this very possibility. Ser Schnee would remain with Ser Xiaolong as their Faunus sister made short work of these heathens.

Captain Rose pulled on every speck of willpower she could muster and stood to her feet, reached down and picked up her sword. Emerald lay nearby, writhing in pain from both her damaged eyes and a pair of circular blades in each leg courtesy of the Black Scourge. Ser Rose could not lift the blade's full weight yet, so settled for dragging the holy blade along the rocky path, every inch sending up a spark.

Emerald heard this and began to panic, "No! Wait! I am wounded, you must show me mercy! It is your way!" She flailed around but could not see from where her doom was approaching.

"Oathbreakers…" Ser Rose growled low, her voice straining through the potion, "…have no place… in the light!"

Emerald paused, sat upright and grinned, "Bad news for your cat friend, eh?"

"NYAAAARGH! ! !" The Red Death swung her blade with the last of her power, the blow taking Emerald's head clean off her shoulders. The knight fell to the ground a moment later, thankfully away from the rolling body part; Ruby's strength had been exhausted, but more important was that she had sent the traitor to the Abyss. She had done her sacred duty.

Emerald's words about Blake continued to echo through Ruby's head as darkness claimed her.

…
…

Blood and sweat assaulted her nose before she even opened her eyes. If nothing else, that meant she had survived the ambush. There was another smell beneath that, but at first she could not identify it.

Part of her stomach suddenly lurched. Hard. And the last piece fell into place.

Ser Rose began violently vomiting as a hand patted her head and the voice of Ser Schnee tickled her ears, "Easy, easy… just let the herbs do their work, Captain."

It only lasted a few moments, then her strength began to return almost immediately. The foul taste of her own humors would linger for much longer, yet it was a small price to pay. Once it was over, Ser Rose remained on her hands and knees, panting hard and waiting for her limbs to obey her once again. "Yang…?"

"She imbibed more than you, so I attended to her first. And a good thing, as our battle attracted some Grimm. She is fending them off as we speak."

"And yourself?"

"In need of more Flash Powder, but otherwise unharmed. Ser Belladonna did not let any escape the Light's judgment. Her resilience to the poison is admirable."

Ser Rose looked around but saw only black; the torch was out and the darkness of night had engulfed the area. Gradually the sounds of battle reached her ears and she clearly heard Ser Xiaolong's grunting and battle cries. She allowed herself to smile at the sound. "The traitors?"

"All dead and purified," Ser Schnee paused to fetch one of her water skins and handed it to Ser Rose. "Blake is keeping watch for more."

"Go relieve her; the Black Scourge and I must have words. Now."

"As you command. But give those herbs a little longer to clean you out before you get too riled up; you'll need one more dose to settle your stomach once it's over." The White Relief rose and did as her Captain ordered, leaving Ruby alone for a few moments.

Once her eyes adjusted to the moonlight, Ser Rose found her sword laying on the rocks nearby. Emerald's blood still stained the Damascus blade. She stood and made it clean, her hands and legs wobbling violently as her limited strength fought to keep her upright. The act itself took no time at all and the blade was once again sheathed and safe, ready to do God's work once again.

Ser Rose… Ruby… dwelt on what she had learned this day.

("Anyone could be won over by those who wield words
with the same skill as we with our blades.")

(Where had she come from? What led her
to join the Order? Lord Ironwood alone knew
these answers and declared them unimportant…)

("Bad news for your cat friend, eh?")

All of these were clues that pointed her to an answer she didn't like. If Ser Belladonna had ties with the likes of the Cult, then there would be a reckoning for keeping a secret of such magnitude. Ser Rose needed to know who she could trust, now more than ever, and something like this-

"Captain! There are more of them!" Ser Schnee's cries reached her just before the knight herself. "Just as I reached Ser Belladonna, we both spotted more figures in the dunes. Four of them, in robes, surrounded by an unholy light."

"The traitor had backup," Ser Rose quickly collected her helmet and came along with her sister to see for herself. Ser Xiaolong had finished with the Grimm (giant scorpions, apparently) and so joined them to peer around a rocky outcropping.

There were indeed four robed figures no more than 20 or 30 feet away, all standing in a circle with arms raised. All around them was exactly what Ser Schnee had described; an 'unholy' light. And that meant only one thing-

"Witches." The Red Death placed her helm back in its place and lowered her Visage. "I grow tired of these Cultists working to bring our world to ruin. Come, let us water the sands with their blood!"

Three other helms snapped into place, though Weiss' quiet voice offered up a quick prayer for their success. Ser Rose took up her sword once again, got ready and charged with a cry of battle, her sisters right behind her.

The witches didn't appear to be expecting them; almost as one they staggered back and cried out, but it was too late. The knights were upon them. Now that she was closer, Ser Rose could see that their robes were not black as expected – each were a different color, and she gravitated towards the one in red. Instinct told her this was the leader.

A blast of fire drew her attention away for a moment, but the attack was over as soon as it began. Other bursts of demon magik followed, each defeated with ease. The various witches cried out in shock and horror, but it wouldn't be long now. Magiks were nothing against the might of Damascus.

The witch in red proved a nimble foe, dodging Ser Roses blade with a practiced ease that she'd only ever encountered against Ser Bree during her combat training. It was like trying to cut a wisp of fog.

All at once the witch darted back and pulled something from her sleeve. It was barely larger than the creature's palm and in the faint starlight it glowed with a pale blue-green light. She smiled, pointed it at Ser Rose and muttered something in another language.

Lightning shot out from the device. Lightning.

On pure instinct, Ser Rose blocked the attack with her sword. The moment the attack made contact with the Damascus steel, it vanished.

The witch in red coughed in surprise, "Impossible… how did you-?"

"No black magik will overcome the servants of God, foul witch," Ser Rose snarled and charged forward again. "You have seen your last sunset!"

As she reared back to take the creature's head, that queer lightning stone was pointed downward and fired again, this time hitting the sand beneath their feet and causing it to explode violently all around them. Ser Rose still swung, but no sensation met her blade save the grit of the desert. She was blinded and nearly choked on the sand, but her opponent would not fare any better; that was a move of desperation, normally intended to distract rather than injure. No doubt the witch was already fleeing for the relative safety of the dunes.

Cries of concern eventually made their way through the din of the explosion, and Ser Rose tore off her helm to better remove the grit from her eyes and lungs. A voice coughed nearby, and she recognized that of the witch who had stood against her. Apparently she was not as smart as first expected. Ser Rose grimaced, her muscles giving a twinge to remind her of what she had just gone through, and picked up her sword to finish the fight.

The sand and dust eventually cleared, and Captain Ruby Agnes Rose came face to face with the witch in red. Until now all four of the creatures had hoods over their faces, but this one had pulled hers back.

She beheld another pair of silver eyes set beneath a head of deep blood-red hair, and a face with a 'softness to rival that of a newborn babe.' The hair itself was longer by far, nearly long enough to reach her waist, but otherwise it was like looking in a mirror.

The witch looked exactly like Ser Rose.

…

Author's Note: For those wondering, "Ser" is meant to be the general way to refer to knights instead of "Sir." It's mostly intended to be a gender-neutral term since most of the knights in this story are female and I didn't wanna use "Lady" or "Dame."

Speaking of this story, this one's gonna be a little different from the stuff I've posted before. It's another multiverse tale, yes, but with a much more limited focus – I'm only utilizing 2 worlds here, no more, and their fates are very much intertwined throughout these events. You'll see what I mean as we continue on. The biggest difference here is that I'm switching POV and narrative styles with each chapter. This first one was written to kinda channel Tolkien a little bit since we're following an old-world knight on a crusade against evil (it's not a style I'm used to yet so it's gonna be rough in some places), while the second chapter… well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?

I don't intend for this one to go very long, maybe 5 chapters, but sometimes this kind of story just runs away from me. Feel free to drop a review. Also, before I forget, The Layman is once again acting as my editor/muse because he is just that awesome.

…
…

Editor's Note: So the genesis of this medieval world actually came about because of Thor: Love & Thunder. The antagonist of that movie wields a super dope lookin' sword for much of it, which looks like it was forged from Damascus Steel (a real thing, it's a very fascinating rabbit hole to fall down). Which got me thinking, "what if Ruby but as a historical Paladin Knight?". Thus, Ser Rose and her Paladin sisters were born. I then wrote up a proof of concept for it, which ultimately turned into the scene at the village. The concept kept getting fleshed out over time, until myself and Mr. Withab0x decided it was good enough to write for. Honestly? Much of this version of Ruby Rose and her world is my baby.

Next chapter you'll get a glimpse of Mr. Withab0x's baby, though I did help with the worldbuilding somewhat. See you then!

=^..^=