No matter how far you climbed, there were some jobs you always had to do yourself.
Raven dispassionately examined the new recruits for the Tribe. As their leader, it was important to get a feel for the newest members of the family. After several excruciating moments watching the newcomers squirm and sob, she turned to one of her lieutenants with a contemptuous glance.
"This was the best you could find?"
The Branwen Tribe had its fingers in every kind of criminal enterprise imaginable: extortion, corruption, contract killing, prostitution, money laundering, human trafficking and drug running. Their core members controlled dozens of proxy organizations, from street gangs to fences to legitimate enterprises. They and a few, a very few other families like them, were the nuclei of a criminal network that spanned every Kingdom and almost every settlement in between, who the authorities had tried and failed to stamp out. Individual members were ferreted out, but the heart, and the brains of the syndicates, was forever beyond their reach. That could only rot away from within.
Crime families, like every organization, were defined by their human capital. Equipment, reputation, connections- none of that mattered if you didn't have the right people to use it. Why had the Branwens persisted while the Xiong Family floundered and Wave had been wiped out of existence?
Because the Branwens were ruthlessly efficient at producing the right kind of people.
A very special kind of people.
The women before her were not those people.
Nearly two dozen girls, ranging from their late teens to mid twenties, were bound, gagged and utterly terrified. A hardened woman with dark, short cropped hair and a sleeve tattoo stood off to the side, thoroughly amused. A few of the crowd had torn clothes and bruises- Raven mentally jotted them down as the more promising candidates. Most showed no sign of a struggle- she hoped their weakness wasn't hereditary.
Vernal shrugged, used to her Boss's style. "Beggars can't be choosers."
Raven frowned, and then nodded. There were too many constraints on their operations as it was. The Tribe needed women of childbearing age, who were in good physical condition and wouldn't be missed. Any qualities beyond that were optional.
"Are they clean?" Raven asked.
Vernal nodded. "The Doc gave them all the green light- if they have crabs or the clap he didn't see it."
Raven sighed. "Where did you find this sorry lot?"
Vernal turned to the group with a mocking grin. She gestured to a pale group of girls who had clustered together as best they could. "About half of them are refugees from the War in Atlas." She said. "Apparently things are bad enough that they were willing to take any ride out of the country, no questions asked. Guess they never learned that nothing comes for free."
Raven nodded. "And the others?"
Vernal hummed thoughtfully as she walked the line.
"Hm… the dark one we found on a smuggling run in the middle of the desert, believe it or not. Apparently her tribe wandered a bit too far off the beaten path- everyone else had died from dehydration when we found her. Taking her with us might have actually been doing her a favor-"
The Vacuan let out a muffled growl, pure hatred in her eyes. Raven smirked.
"It looks like she has something to say."
Verbal obediently ripped the duct tape off her mouth. Without missing a breath the woman spat out her piece.
"I would have rather roasted in the desert than been… rescued… by swine like you ."
There were a few muffled gasps from the others. Their captors had been instructed not to permanently harm them, but violent people could punish back talk in so many ways; they were sure the girl was about to earn a new addition to the tapestry of bruises that covered her body.
Vernal looked like she might do just that before Raven raised a hand to stop her. Blood red eyes peered into the Vacuan's deep brown, cold and unflinching. Raven's smirk grew.
"...If your children have half as much fire as you, this operation might not have been a waste of time after all."
That caused the blood to drain from the girl's face. The rest of the group fared much worse, some going into hysterics as they realized exactly what they were in for.
"And Vernal?" Raven said, with an edge in her voice. "We're doing all of them a favor. The smarter ones will figure that out eventually."
Vernal bit her tongue before nodding along. "The Mistralis came from the usual sources." It was amazing what the authorities in that Kingdom would overlook for the right price. "And we salvaged a few Valean girls from that prostitution ring we smashed up."
"Slickback's?" Raven asked; the upstart who thought he could do business in Branwen territory without giving them their rightful share?
"Slickback's." Vernal confirmed.
Raven turned to the group again, her eyes flickering as she stared with a far off expression, almost as if she wasn't looking at them.
She sighed. "...Average. A few below average. Nothing special." She looked at the Vacuan girl in disappointment. "Well, no candidate is perfect. Given the circumstances, I suppose you did an adequate job. You have plenty of time before the next shipment is due, so I expect you to sift for more promising prospects. We need quality as well as quantity."
Vernal's face fell. "Ma'am, with respect-" she said carefully. "-do you really want me to waste my time on another Mommy Run? Isn't there anything I can do that's more… well… more…"
"More important ?" Raven finished.
Vernal colored. "No… well, yes, but-"
"-There is nothing more important to the Family than maintaining the Crèche." Raven said evenly. "Without it, we are nothing."
Her subordinate said nothing, but her displeasure was obvious. Vernal was one of her best lieutenants, with an incredibly rare and valuable skill set. Other families wouldn't waste one of their few Blessed on such a menial task.
Other families were fools who had been rightly scattered to the wind.
The Tribe's core was small- it relied on lesser members or subordinates whose awareness of their masters' true nature was on a need to know basis. Half wit grunts and soldiers of fortune could be trusted with the day to day operations of the syndicate- it didn't matter if they slipped up and one trafficking ring was busted, or if their products fell into the hands of rival gangs. Not in the grand scheme of things. But if anything could ever be traced back to Crèche, their true nature would be exposed, and the Tribe's soft underbelly would be exposed for all the world's wild beasts to tear asunder.
Vernal looked down at her feet. "... I understand."
Raven put a hand on her shoulder. " The future of the Tribe can only be entrusted to those whose loyalty and competence are beyond question."
Vernal looked only somewhat mollified by this.
Raven grinned darkly. "Of course, if you'd rather not be bothered finding candidates for the Crèche, you're more than welcome to spend a year or two there yourself; kick off your shoes and relax."
Her lieutenant looked nauseous at the thought. " I am not the maternal type." She insisted.
'That makes two of us.'
"And the guys…" Vernal continued " Gods, they would never let me live it down if one of them made me have their baby." She gagged. "I'd get more shit from them than the diapers."
"If I were a different leader you wouldn't have a choice."
If the Tribe were just a bit more numerous, neither of them would; Raven and Vernal were more valuable broodmares than every other woman in the room put together. But the Branwens needed every Blessed they had on the front lines- it was far easier to snatch dozens of wayward girls off the streets than it was to replace them .
"I know." Vernal replied. "I'm good."
Raven smiled. "I'm sure you will be after the Ⱡ50,000,000 check for a job well done clears."
Vernal's mood brightened considerably. "It's my honor to have been of service, Allmother."
It was a delicate balance of love and fear that kept her Tribe- her 'children'- in line. A long string of Allfathers, stretching back over a thousand years, had struggled to maintain their place on the throne- until, inevitably, they grew weak, or soft, or comfortable, and a younger, stronger leader took their place. Someday, one of her children was going to drive a knife in her back, as Raven had done to her Father before her. It might even be Vernal- the girl showed promise.
Until then, she would do well to remind her children they were better off with Mother than against her.
"Be a doll and start your search in Kuchinashi." Raven ordered.
Vernal blinked. "Any reason in particular?"
"A few of our men were killed last week in a firefight with the Spiders." Raven explained. "…It's high time someone cleared out all those unsightly cobwebs."
Vernal's eyes filled with bloodlust. "Guess I'd better bring some bug spray." She said, with a twisted smile.
Raven smiled back. "If I'm sufficiently impressed with your mission's progress when I arrive… I'll let you use it."
Vernal's grin turned manic.
The other women were horrified in the presence of two murderesses; all except for the Vacuan girl.
"I hope they slit your throats."
Vernal looked at her for a moment. Then she burst out laughing. "You're right, Ma'am, I like this one."
The girl was unimpressed. "Those who live by evil will reap what they sow. Do you think your comrades won't rape and torture you once they get the chance? However strong you think you are, don't forget that you're only human… just like us ."
Raven said nothing, but she drew her sword, a blood red blade with a pommel of cool, black metal.
The Vacuan girl closed her eyes and prepared for the worst.
There was a slash of air and a flash of red.
The girl opened her eyes to see a dark red vortex swirling in front of her. She backed away reflexively, only for Vernal, who had just been several yards in front of her, to grab her from behind. The girl blinked, thinking she must be seeing things. But then she felt how easily this bandit lifted her up with a single hand. Something wasn't normal here: she was too fast, too strong.
"Newsflash, sweetheart." Vernal said mockingly. " We're not ."
Then she tossed her captive through the portal.
Raven was the last one to cross through.
The exact location of the Crèche was a closely guarded secret. In the old days, keeping it hidden from rival gangs was nearly impossible, but with their Allmother's semblance it was almost trivially easy now. There were no shipping manifests to track, no pilots or drivers who had to be killed or bribed in order to keep their silence; nothing came here except Raven and her cargo.
She hefted a supply crate larger than any man could lift, pumping aura into her muscles, before dropping it on the other side of the portal with a full thump.
She looked at Vernal expectantly.
The girl sighed. "I'll get the rest." She popped back through the portal. Moments later she popped back through the red gate, crate in hand.
A few of the new recruits looked at the pair in dumb shock, while the others took in their surroundings.
The current location of the Crèche wasn't marked on any map, but in another time it was a dust mine, long stopped bare and abandoned by a bankrupt company. It's shafts had been repurposed and renovated as classrooms, bunks, dining halls, bathrooms, libraries, infirmeries.
Maternity wards.
Surrounding the mouth of the mine was a spiked wooden wall enclosing a rustic yard, several hundred meters long and three stories high. Inside was a garden, a sports field, and a few dozen children roughhousing on the ground. Their watchers caught sight of her first, posture stiffening. The children one by one noticed her presence.
"It's the Allmother!"
They stopped moving, a few at a time. One particularly active boy was mid-punch when his neighbor shoved him to attention.
Raven ignored them.
Vernal smirked. "Nothing to see here, you little shits. We're just bringing in some new mommys."
Some low level grunts came over to collect the supplies. A few of the children's chaperones met the newcomer's eyes with some sympathy. They had been there once, dropped from horrible circumstances out into the middle of nowhere and forced into slavery. But time had a way of healing all wounds.
It wasn't hard seeing the resemblance between the chaperones and a few of the children. It was the same with most positions at the Crèche- secrecy and isolation were the highest priorities, and with no outside specialists they had to get teachers and cooks and nurses from somewhere. Sooner or later the new girls came around- their captors were the fathers of their children, and their children were loyal to the Tribe. It was a harsh, brutal life, but most of their recruits were accustomed to that. Being a cog in the Branwen machine at least offered them a place in the world.
There were unspoken words in their eyes, words Raven caught easily, even though they were meant to be hidden from her.
'It's okay.'
'It gets better.'
'We'll be here for you.'
But the intended audience never caught it. They were too caught up in their terror, in their anger, in themselves. They weren't part of the family yet.
The children were less subtle. A few of the younger ones, some practically toddlers, fell back to the nearest adult- one young boy was clutching at the woman's leg. Raven glared at the chaperone as she feebly shook him off, noting the resemblance between them- mothers were always too soft on their own.
The older, braver, and more curious brats closed in, poking and prodding at the newcomers, chattering amongst themselves.
"They look soft!"
"Where did you get an outfit like that?!"
"Who the hell has purple eyes?!"
One of the more sadistic ones started a chant, which was quickly picked up by the others.
"New meat, new meat, new meat!"
"Aw look how excited they are." Vernal cooed. "And just think; they aren't even the ones who get to play with you."
Raven watched the captives for their reactions. A few were cowering away from the children- the weaklings- while most looked checked out, thoroughly resigned to their fate. And the Vacuan-
-Where was she?
Raven's eyes darted across the field- the girl had made a mad dash to her portal while her captors had been distracted. She was only a few inches away from escape-
-The portal vanished.
The Vacuan fell to the ground as she jumped through air.
"God damn it!" Vernal shouted. "How the fuck am I supposed to get back?"
Another portal opened up beside her.
"That will take you to Kuchinashi." Raven said, sheathing her sword. "Tell Carn I want the local Spider set wiped out, down to the last man. Tell him to start rounding up men and that by the end of the week I'll be there myself."
Vernal smirked. "You're the boss."
Her underling popped through the portal, the rift in reality vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
The Vacuan girl stared up at her from the ground, jaw tight and eyes hard.
"...What are you?"
"She's the Boss." And weathered voiced called out. "And if you want to keep your head you'll remember it." The speaker approached the group from out of the mouth of the cave, locking eyes with her leader. Raven nodded as her tether kneeled before her.
"Corva." She said calmly.
"Mother." She replied.
The honorific was ludicrous- Corva was almost two decades her senior and it showed. But the sands of time had not erased the fact that she had once been beautiful.
Hair that had once been a lustrous black now had streaks of grey. Alabaster skin- naturally pale and even paler after a life spent mostly underground, was now cut by harsh lines around her face. The crow's feet were new, but Corva's eyes had been old before her time. But they were as sharp as ever.
"At ease." Raven commanded.
Corva rose with the slightest difficulty. She waved the children away, who obeyed their (in most cases) honorary grandmother without question. Then she looked at the girls.
"So…" she muttered. "This is the new meat."
Raven nodded.
"...Where the hell are we?" The Vacuan spat.
"The Crèche." Corva answered. "Your new home… and eventually, your tomb." The matron turned to some of the nearby staff. "Take off the damn tape - I want everyone to introduce themselves."
The younger concubines obliged- Corva was past the age of bearing children, but she had served the Tribe well in her prime, and her service had been rewarded- within the Crèche her word was second only to Raven's.
"My name is Corva Branwen." She said, while most of the girls were still wincing from the pain of tearing tape. "And whoever you used to be, from now on you're a Branwen too. You're here because in the real world, you were the kind of pathetic trash that other people wouldn't miss."
The were glares, sobs and whimpers as Corva spoke. She smirked.
"But here, you might actually amount to something. You may have heard rumors about the Tribe- that the Branwens are the most vicious bastards known to man. They're true, and you're going to be the mothers of those bastards. The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can all get on with our lives. But, hey, if you want to stay in the dungeon as nothing more than a cock warmer and incubator, that's fine too."
"W-why are you doing this to us?" One girl whimpered.
"Because blood is thicker than water." Corva said. "The secret to our success is that the Branwens are a family - we can recruit some punks on the street but true Branwens are born, and raised to live and die for the Tribe."
"The-there has to be a mistake." Another girl said, with smeared make up and a torn business blouse. "I'm not like these worthless whores, I'm not supposed to be here!"
Corva chuckled as a few of their captives glared at the upstart. "You're gonna be real popular,you know that?"
"My name is Ava Allbright and I was scheduled for an interview with the Vytal Organization!" She said. "I'm an IT worker-"
"-With no living family and few personal friends; I wonder why." Corva said coldly.
Ava moaned piteously.
"I've read your file." Corva explained. "I've read all your files. We set that meeting up, Ava. We have people everywhere."
"-Th-that's impossible." Ava whispered.
"Is it?" Corva asked. "How could we keep this place hidden if we didn't have moles to forge birth certificates and IDs for our children so they could blend in with the outer world? How could we set this up if we didn't have people to smuggle supplies? Not every child we birth is a fighter, but every single one exists to serve the Tribe. Just. Like. You." She said. "Now, Ava, introduce yourself properly."
"...M-my name is Ava ...B-Branwen, and I...l-"
"Good enough." Corva said. "Next?"
They went down the line- Godiva, Cheryl, Marilyn, Candace, Yue, Mei, Lin, Harper, Leyla, Aurora, Caterina, on and on it went.
Until they came to the Vacuan.
"And what do you call yourself?" The Matron asked.
"Fuck you."
Corva chuckled. "Well, aren't you the feisty one." She turned to the leader. " Allmother Raven, if you would be so kind…?"
In the span of a second, the mob boss stepped forward grabbed the young woman's arm, dislocating her shoulder in a single move.
The Vacuan let out a hiss of pain as she dropped to the ground.
Corva knelt down to her level. "Let's try again, child. Your name?"
The girl grit her teeth. "If you're going to kill me, just get it over with. I'd rather be carrion than spend my life as nothing more than a lump of meat."
Corva shook her head. "Do you think we'll let you go that easily? After all the trouble we went to to get you?" She chuckled. "You can be so much more than a lump of meat- or you can just lie back and take it. Those are your options."
Raven jerked the girl's arm forward before popping it back into place. "We can do this all day." She said. "Or you can answer the question."
"I'd sooner die."
Raven sighed. They were at an impasse.
"Well, we need to call her something." Corva said matter of factly. "Does anyone have anything better than 'the Vacuan'?" She looked at the more compliant captives expectantly.
No one said a word.
"We have other Vacuans here." Corva said, point to one of the chaperones in the corner. "Things are going get confusing and painful very quickly if you don't say any-
"We don't know, okay!" Cheryl shouted. "The entire time we were stuck together she hardly said anything. She never told us her name."
Raven grimaced internally. This was taking too long, and she had other things to do, but she couldn't let this kind of defiance go unpunished. But, if they wanted her in working condition, there was only so much they could do. Nothing the girl couldn't bear.
The Allmother turned to her Matron, but Corva had a thoughtful look on her face.
"Tear off her top."
Whatever the reason, the order hit paydirt, and the girl raised her arms up protectively. "Don't-"
Raven swung her blade, missing both arms and severing the cloth while just missing the girl's skin.
On of the few security guards, a male, was on her, tearing off the rags while she squirmed and cursed.
"Get off me!" She yelled. "Get the fuck-"
Bandages- chest bindings to hold back a respectable bust- were pulled away to reveal a black glyph on the top of her left breast.
"...No."
Corva nodded. "You're an Imazaya." She muttered. "I should have guessed." She caught Raven's raised eyebrows. "They're a large tribe of seasonal nomads in the North of Vacuo. During the dry season they work as unskilled labor on the coasts, but during the monsoon they transport cargo to farther flung tribes using the seasonal oases as waypoints. They have an odd custom surrounding names; outsiders never learn them and children aren't given them.
"True Names are thought to be a reflection of the soul; it's sacrilegious to just throw them around. Nicknames are used in all but the most intimate settings. During a rite of passage the Imazaya Elders brand a glyph on the would be adult's chest- without anesthetics. If they hold still and the result is legible they've earned it as their name- and only those close enough to see them naked ever learn what it is."
Raven looked at her curiously.
"We had an Imazaya in my batch, 40 years ago, though she wasn't ever as proud or as pretty as this one. They broke us in together; ran a train on us the night each of us conceived our firstborn." Corva said casually.
"...And you know their language?"
"Girls talk. Now, let's see what it says."
The girl struggled futilely against her captor's hold. "You're bluffing." She spat desperately. "You can't read this, you can't kn-"
"Why, this is a flawless glyph." Corva said pleasantly. "Much clearer than Tiziri's."
The girl gasped. She met Corva's eyes, and she knew that she knew.
"...Please… don't." She begged.
"Sekkura." Corva mouthed, savoring the word.
The girl looked away, eyes glimmering with the first tears she'd shed since they'd found her.
"Well, little bird." Corva said soothingly. "Welcome to the Branwens."
"You're behind schedule." Raven said.
Corva leaned back in her seat, all pretense of formality gone.
"It's a roll of the dice every time." She said. "We can't help that we've come up short the last few years."
"Come up short?" Raven asked acidly. "The Crèche has produced zero Blessed in the last year. The Tribe has lost five ."
"Perhaps you ought to be more cautious with your shock troops-"
Raven slammed her fist on the table. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is on the outside? What the other families do when they find one of us?"
"Probably the same as we do to them." Corva said calmly, pulling out a bottle. "We've had a bad year Rae. Calm down. Have a drink."
The Mob Boss pinched her temples. "You're starting to sound like Qrow." She said.
Corva chuckled. "That boy always did know how to relax."
"I already have to put up with one of him today." Raven spat.
"Careful, dear." Corva said. "Your temper's showing."
Raven sighed, and sat down across the table, doing her best to relax.
"I've been under a lot of stress lately." She confessed. "We lost Jasper and Dorian last week... fucking Spiders."
"I know." Corva said. "Jezebel was inconsolable."
Raven had seen the tear marks on the woman's eyes as they passed her on the way to Corva's office. The children of the Branwen Tribe were expected to show no weakness- their mothers weren't held to quite the same standard. Even with limited communication from the outside world, it was hard to hide the whispers when someone's son was chopped into little pieces and mailed to the nearest Branwen office one bit at a time.
While Jezebel mourned the loss of her child, Raven mourned the loss of one her Blessed. Even with all the efforts of the Crèche, there were only ever a few dozen Blessed Branwens at the best of times. The overwhelming majority of children conceived here were mundane, cursed, with aura that would forever remain locked away.
They had their uses- they were indoctrinated from birth, and sorted based on personality and talent into the various arms of the Branwen Empire. Hired goons could be trusted with minor jobs, but anything important was entrusted to the Family, and only the Family. There were enforcers and crime bosses, accountants and money launderers, bankers and lawyers and doctors and businessmen who handled the paperwork and kept the Branwens well supplied and well protected. They had people inside the Vytal Organziation, they had staffers on local and Kingdom Councils, they had detectives in the police and everyday citizens whose only role was to act as an extra set of eyes and ears. The Crèche raised and educated their children, it didn't just make them, and a Branwen could do whatever they wanted.
Except leave.
Blessed were under an even tighter grip. From the moment of birth they were singled out- and without knowing why the other children were raised to see them as their leaders. Maybe they caught a glimpse of their powers, like her portals or the late Dolph Branwen's lightning, but never enough to understand it- only to fear and respect it. Born among their number were demigods- exactly who they were and what they could do was on a strictly need to know basis. No matter how loyal their Family was, the fewer who knew the details the better.
Once a child was old enough to keep a secret, they were told of their nature and trained to become the most effective warriors in the world. They would master their semblance or die trying, and spend their lives as the true might of the Branwens, crushing all who stood before them.
There were never enough of them, and with the loss of Dorian and Jasper, there numbers were officially at an all time low.
"You have Vernal and Carn planning the counterattack." Corva said, taking a sip of wine. "How many Blessed can you muster in a few days?"
"The three of us will do." Raven said. "We'll have some other men as back up."
Corva's eyes narrowed. "These people killed two of our best already. Are you sure that's wise?"
"I have it on good intelligence that Little Miss Malachite isn't a Blessed and isn't connected to any Blessed Bloodline. She's got contacts and has contracted out some of the more reclusive clans. Once a few of her contractors have been torn to pieces, the others will get the message that our partners are to be left alone, and working for the Malachites won't be worth the hazard pay."
More reclusive was a strange choice of words. The Blessed were like hunters in a dark jungle, everything easy prey except for the other hunters that might cross their path. The only sure fire way to stay alive was to stay out of sight, or kill whoever you found before they could kill you.
The Branwens hid behind countless front organizations: The Murder Corps, The Vicenti Boys, The Bonecrushers, Odin Industries. But they were more direct in their control than most of the Blessed they had brushed up against.
Corva looked her dead in the eye. "You're going to get yourself killed if you keep this up."
Raven growled. "You are out of line ."
"If you lose your cool like this in front of anyone other than useless old me pretty soon you'll go the way of old Dolph, may the Gods rest his soul."
Raven ran a hand over her face. "That's my concern, not yours." She said. "...And if I'm weak enough to get rid of, I deserve it."
Corva tut-tutted.
"None of that defeatist talk." She insisted. "My Allmother is no weakling. Now… what's this about visiting your brother?"
Raven looked the older woman in the eye, sighed in resignation and poured herself a glass of wine. She downed the entire glass in a single gulp, wiping a stray, blood red stream off her chin.
"It isn't a friendly call. It's business."
Corva's posture stiffened.
After a long moment she spoke.
"...You're not going to kill him, are you?"
By all accounts Qrow should have been dealt with a long time ago. He had turned his back on his Family and betrayed key members of the Tribe to the Valean Secret Service.
Then again, so had she.
Raven shook her head. "Probably not.'' There were perks to being the Allmother's idiot brother. "I just have a favor to ask."
Corva relaxed. " May I ask what the favor is?"
Raven smirked. "You can ask."
Corva chuckled. "Smart ass." She paused for a moment. "By the way…" she began. "...there is one more thing I wanted to discuss, related to the newborns."
Raven's posture straightened. "What about them?"
"Their paternity tests."
Raven's eyes darted to a filing cabinet across the room, filled with the only Branwen papers she didn't have ready access to.
No Branwen ever learned the identity of their father. Some intimacy with their birth mother was tolerated, though the endless parade of wet nurses and teachers and chaperones muddied the line and made personal affection more general. But their paternity was unnecessary information. Undue loyalty to an individual with real influence could lead to factionalism and infighting, rival family loyalties within the Tribe. The children were Branwens, and that was all they needed to know.
Ideally even the mother would be unsure. When there were spare males around they would have multiple couplings with each fertile female- the myth was that the stronger sperm would win. Even if only one man was available when a woman was ready, permanent romantic bonds between mother and father were forbidden. Favorite fucks were allowed, and enjoying them was a major perk, but the Blessed were killers, not family men.
But the Tribe had an interest in knowing who fathered who. There was a small pool of Blessed, and they were all closely related, so inbreeding posed a serious problem. Most mundane daughters were poor candidates for breeders- their aura potentials rarely outweighed the genetic risks, so a constant stream of new genes and new girls were brought in for the next generation. The daughters of the Tribe were occasionally made prostitutes- when they showed no aptitude for any other profession- but only in the rarest circumstances were they drafted as breeding stock.
When that happened, matches had to be made to minimize the risks involved. Having a girl sleep with her own father, or a sister with her brother, offered very little to the Tribe- they'd almost never get a Blessed but they'd get plenty of inbred halfwits.
For that reason, every child was tested against all eligible fathers at birth, and the Matron of the Crèche was entrusted with the results. They were fiercely protected- alongside the only line to the CCCT network in the entire complex, the records were stored in the Office, a safe room which only the sitting Matron and Allfather had access to.
Raven's eyes inevitably drifted to the cabinet at least once every visit. She had never given in to the temptation to open it. Somewhere in there was her file.
Raven didn't know who her father was. She'd climbed over a lot of bodies to reach her throne, and the question had always lingered. Was Dolph Branwen her father in more than just name? Had her sire been one of the victims of her meteoric rise? She didn't know what idea was worse- that she had unknowingly killed her father, or that her father was still alive, serving under her none the wiser, a ticking time bomb of personal attachement waiting to go off if her resolve weakened for the shortest moment.
She didn't even know if she and Qrow had the same father; they were fraternal twins, and it was a possibility- and desperate hope- that they were only half siblings.
"That reminds me." Raven said. "I want at least 3 men to break Sekkura in."
Corva raised an eyebrow. "I thought we hardly had manpower to spare. You really want three warriors to run a train for a weekend?"
Raven nodded. "I want our three strongest to do it. We can't just live in the moment, we have to plan for the future. If they tame her we have an excellent young mother under our thumb, and maybe a worthwhile Blessed as well."
Corva nodded. "The doctor's report suggests that she'll enter her most fertile phase in about a week… though given her physical condition I'm not sure if anything will take for a few months. We found her on the brink of death, after all."
Raven shrugged. "If at first you don't succeed."
Corva sighed. "Well, it would be a damn shame if anyone other than a Blessed got to her."
The Allmother's fists clenched. "...Who?"
"5 of the children born here in the last year aren't a match for any of the men with breeding rights." Corva explained. "But after cross referencing every man in the compound, we found the father. One Shay D. Mann."
'5? That son of a bitch . '
While most of the jobs at the Crèche were handled by the more compliant mothers, some things required a man's work: hard physical labor, conventional combat training, and a small contingent of security guards that kept the working girls in line. The Blessed only popped in for scheduled fertilizations- vacation time, essentially. It seemed like every day Raven had to port someone in and out of the facility. The mundane guards were stuck there full time- and consequently they weren't the best of the Tribe.
Shay D. Mann was born a Branwen, but only a special few were permitted to use that surname on the outside. Shay was not special, but he was wanted in all Four Kingdoms for mass homicide- an assassination job gone terribly wrong. With his face plastered on wanted posters and his obvious lack of subtlety, Shay was a liability on the outside, so she pulled him back to the Crèche, thinking babysitting was a job even he couldn't fuck up.
She was wrong… and fresh out of mercy.
"Why didn't you deal with this earlier?" she asked.
Corva pinched her temples. "With all the other issues we've had recently the mystery father slipped through the cracks - I didn't want to tell you about it until we were sure."
Raven nodded. Then she walked out of the room.
Corva shook her head and poured herself another drink.
"Where's Shay?"
A few unshaved security guards ogled at her, bracing themselves against half broken chairs. Their break room stank of cheap booze and cigarettes, and the plaster on the walls was crumbling. It was like someone had taken a frat house and dumped it into a septic tank. There was broken glass on the ground and a dirty fish bowl filled with condoms by the sink.
The Branwens weren't stupid, they knew their dregs would fool around with the women under their care. They were violent men cut off from the outside world indefinitely and surrounded by girls who were at least moderately attractive and who they held total power over, it wasn't hard to guess how'd they'd get their jollies. Sexual favors for the gaurds were allowed, but they were never supposed to have unprotected sex and they never were allowed to so much as touch a girl when she might be fertile.
They had plenty of safe pussy to handle and very few rules, and Shay couldn't even follow those.
"B-boss." One of the guards stammered, smart enough to sense the danger under her stoic calm. "S-shay's actually on break right now, so if he isn't here the-"
" Where. Is. He."
The man gulped, nervously adjusting his collar. "I don't know." He answered. "Maybe in the lower levels- he mentioned that he was gonna go play with one of the new girls, but-"
"That will be all." Raven said, leaving the room.
Their eyes lingered on her- partly because Raven had an amazing ass, partly out of concern for their buddy. No one spoke until they were sure she had left.
"Should we, like, warn him?" One said hesitantly.
"You kidding?" Another guard said, getting back to his game of darts. "I'm not going anywhere near that ."
Raven heard the noises coming from one of the bedrooms- the unsteady slapping of flesh against flesh, and the guttural grunts and slurs.
"Yeah, you like that? You fuckin' whore-"
Raven opened the door to find Shay sullying a new recruit from behind. His breathing was erratic and his movements were stiff and jerky. His partner, Ava, wasn't resisting, but she hardly seemed enthusiastic about the ordeal. She was resigned to it. This was her life now. She didn't expect what came next.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Shay looked at Raven. He should have stopped, but…
Raven was so fucking hot.
He didn't give a damn that she was the leader, and that they were probably cousins or something. She was stunning, an angel of death, with brutal beauty and a stacked figure. How many times had he jerked off after one of her bitchy tirades because her orders were less interesting than the magnificent orbs on her chest? Who the fuck did she think she was, bossing him around, strutting around the base in those tight leggings, and that short as fuck skirt-
Just the sight of her was enough to push him over the edge.
"Unh! Fuck!"
Shay's body spasmed as he collapsed on top of the girl.
He pushed himself off his partner, stumbling backwards as a thin stream of jism leaked out of her cunt.
"Hey, Boss." He said.
Raven looked at his softening member with undisguised disgust.
"You didn't use a condom."
Shay shrugged. "It feels better raw, I couldn't help my-"
"Shut up." She said. "Ava." She asked, with far less venom. "When was your last period?"
The girl didn't think that Raven would have remembered her name. It took a few seconds for her to formulate her thoughts.
"I'm not sure- the days just seemed to blend together. I think I stopped bleeding a little over a week a-"
Raven exhaled.
Shay sensed a shift in the air.
"Boss? What's wrong-"
"She's ovulating you idiot ."
"...So?" Shay said. "There's gonna be a little brat that looks like me, I don't understand-"
Raven's sword was out of its sheath and a centimeter away from his neck.
"I didn't ask you to understand." She spat. " I don't expect you to understand. I know full well that understanding is far beyond your pathetic capacities. I all ever asked was that you obey orders." She ghosted her blade over his jugular. " You didn't."
Shay trembled as Raven shaved several hairs off his scruffy neck.
"Okay. Got it." He said. "Could you just… put that way, please? We're family. You wouldn't cut me like that, would you?"
Raven stared into his eyes before putting her blade back in its sheath. "You're right." She said. "I wouldn't want Omen stained with your filthy blood."
Shay let out a sigh of relief.
"Thanks, Boss." He said. "It won't happen agai-"
Bang.
Shay stumbled back into the wall behind him. His hands trembled as they made their way to the gaping hole in his gut.
Raven smirked. She was holding a smoking pistol she had tucked away in her kimono.
"I know."
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
She put four bullets in his stomach. One for each potential Blessed he stole.
Shay was in shock for the first shot. He let out an agonized cry on the second. By the fifth his voice had died down to a dull whimper.
"Quit your blubbering." Raven barked, as tears began streaming down his face. "Fuckup or not, you're a Branwen. I didn't hit anything that vital."
For a moment she saw hope flicker in his eyes. She crushed it.
"It'll take at least a couple minutes for you to bleed out." She sat down in one of the empty beds across from him. " I'm going to watch."
"...W-w-what?" He gurgled.
Raven smiled as she let her hair down. "I've been having a really bad couple of days, and everyone tells me I need to unwind. Figure I could use some entertainment."
"Boss- g-g-get D-Doc. Get C-Corva. Please. I… I"
Raven leaned back, watching the blood pool around his body.
"Raven… please… this isn't funny anymore."
Raven smiled viciously. "Really? Because where I'm sitting it's hilarious." She snickered. "You double cross me, and you think I'm going to let you live?" She laughed again. Then again. Soon Shay was treated to the sight of Raven Branwen giggling like a schoolgirl.
"No… you… you never laugh." He breathed.
A leader had to be stoic. Dignified. Mockingly sarcastic, on occasion, perhaps, but always with their head clear and their eyes on the prize, never showing a hint of weakness. As the first woman to head the Tribe, Raven held herself to an even higher standard, always mindful of her mask. In all the years he'd known her Shay had never seen Raven give such an uninhibited emotional display.
It was terrifying.
She understood. "It's okay, Shay." She said, smiling at him serenely. "I know you won't tell anyone."
She kept giggling.
Shay kept going for a while, spitting up blood between outbursts of 'Boss, please' or 'Please, Raven, please.' But eventually he realized it was a waste of breath.
After that it was a slow process, watching his eyes dull as his skin grew paler and paler, his breath fainter and fainter. Finally, his chest came up in one last, desperate gasp for air, then fell. His death rattle sounded throughout the room.
There was no mirth in Raven's eyes.
She rose to her feet and turned to leave the room.
Ava laid naked and frozen on the bed closest to the door.
Raven blinked. "...You're still here."
Ava twitched, but otherwise she didn't respond. There were no emotions on her face and her eyes stared deep of into space.
Raven scowled. "Get up. Get dressed and get back to your quarters. Now."
Ava didn't respond.
"I said get up." Raven said, jerking the girl to her feet.
Ava fell limply onto her chest. She was in catatonic shock.
Gods, this one was weak. It was like she'd never seen a man die before-
-Raven closed her eyes. Of course she hadn't. It was her first day.
She set the girl back down gently before picking Shay's radio off the bedside table.
"Send two stretchers and a clean up crew to room 1338, ASAP." She ordered.
In a matter of minutes four guards and three servant girls burst into the room. Their faces filled with horror as they saw their leader lounging near their comrade's dead body.
Raven didn't even flinch.
"You two, take the girl to the infirmary." She said, singling out a pair of wide eyed mobsters. "You two can get rid of the body."
One of the men picked up a sheet and gently laid it over Shay's corpse after he had been set on the stretcher. They took him away without looking at her.
Raven turned to the girls, mops and rags in hand. She gestured to the red pool spreading across the floor.
"Clean that up."
Corva was waiting for her at the end of the hall.
"You took care of him?" She asked.
"I did what was best for the Tribe." Raven said evenly.
Corva nodded slowly. "...You always do."
Raven sighed. "As for his bastards…"
The Matron tensed.
For a moment Raven considered purging the misbegotten brats. But culling them wouldn't bring back the children who might have been father in their stead. It would only deprive her Tribe of members. Her bloodlust had run its course.
"I wouldn't expect much from them considering their worthless father, but try and make them useful idiots, at least."
Corva nodded. "Of course."
Raven turned away, slashing another hole through reality. She spoke to Corva before stepping through. "And remind me to bring back a morning after pill for Ava. Just because I'm willing to tolerate Shay's spawn doesn't mean we need anymore."
She put one foot through the portal.
"Raven." Corva said softly.
The Allmother turned around to meet a familiar pair of red eyes.
"Tell your brother I said hello."
Clover was the first to respond to the commotion in the back.
Raven looked at him dismissively. "Where's my brother?"
"You ought to be more careful." He said. "You were spotted last time."
"I didn't come here for a lecure, Colonel." She said. "I'm here to talk."
Clover nodded. "Qrow's out front at the bar. Try not to make too much of a scene."
Raven fought back a smile. She enjoyed fucking with Qrow waaaaay too much to agree to that.
She burst into the front room with a sway in her step and a seductive smile on her face. Every eye in the room was on her.
Inside the Tribe, Raven was feared as a ruthless killer- her reputation was all the star power she needed. On the outside, her phenomenal figure and striking good looks were enough to make most people take notice. Aura did a body good.
Her brother was fit and looked very good for his age, despite the abuse he regularly put his body through- aura gave its users a resistance to drugs and toxins and it took a fuckton of alcohol to get him drunk.
Not that he didn't try.
Qrow was playing beer pong with some college kids, trading quips with a group of frat boys and flirting with a few sorority girls- who seemed pretty receptive to a rich older man who happened to be tall, dark and handsome. Until a mysterious beauty pulled his head against her chest.
"Qrow!" She cried, voice light and gay. "I've missed you so much!" She turned to the rest of the group, eyes bright. "...Who are your friends?"
One of the boys stammered out something incoherent, distracted by the sexy. The other men ogled silently while the girls frowned. None of them stacked up to her and they knew it- she had to swoop in and steal the best guy of the bunch.
Only Qrow himself seemed unimpressed- and Clover, who was loyally trying to suppress laughter at his friend's predicament.
"So, are you like, Qrow's girlfriend," one of the young women said accusingly, "or-"
"-No." Qrow cut in, "She-"
"Oh, don't be like that-" Raven teased. "Qrow and I go waaaaay back." She looked at the group pleadingly for a moment. "You don't mind if I borrow him for a bit, do you? Alone?"
Qrow glared daggers at her. "...Fine." He said.
"The private booth in the back is open." Clover supplied helpfully.
"Keep it that way." Qrow said. " And bring me a drink. A strong one." He turned to the girls he'd been chatting up. "Sorry ladies. Maybe some other time."
"Not bloody likely." One of them muttered.
Qrow cursed under his breath.
Clover set down a large bottle on their table. He nodded at Qrow, gave Raven a warning look, and left them alone, closing the sliding door behind him.
Qrow popped the cap and started chugging straight from the bottle.
"Vat 69?" Raven noted. "Since when do you drink from the top shelf?"
Qrow swallowed, and set the bottle down. "Nothing but the best for Corva's baby boy."
They stared at each other for several moments, each waiting for the other twin to break first.
Qrow gave in, like he always did.
"You are the worst cockblock I've ever met."
Raven grinned. "On the contrary; my track record shows that I'm an excellent cockblock."
Qrow rolled his eyes. "You didn't come here just to ruin my night." He said. "What do you want?"
"...A girl can't just catch up with her family?"
"She can." Qrow said. "But you don't. Speak up or get the fuck out of my bar."
Raven grinned. "Oh, did I make my baby brother angry ?" She teased. "If you're that desperate for some action, you can always visit the Crèche for a night. We got a new girl today who's exactly your type: brave, noble, too stubborn to accept the way things work."
"...You want me to bring another child into that nightmare?" He asked. "Not happening."
"Well, that's rude." Raven said, crossing her arms over her chest. "And mother was just saying how much she missed you."
Qrow grew pensive, tracing his finger over the bottle's rim. "...Does it make you feel good, knowing you're the one holding her chain now?"
Raven glared at him. "She was a nobody, who would have amounted to nothing. Instead, she had us , and countless others who have served the Tribe well. We gave her a place. We gave her a family."
"She's a slave." Qrow said. " So are you, Rae. And the real sad part? You don't even know it."
"Mind your tongue." Raven said. "This is our Family you're talking about. Our way of life."
"Our 'family' is a band of petty criminals." Qrow spat back. "Crooks and liars, thieves and rapists and murderers. I got out."
No one got out.
A few of her advisors felt Qrow ought to be killed for his treason. Raven knew better. She had used the VSS to clear her way to power, and she saw no reason to change that strategy now. Their interests weren't that different: The Kingdoms wanted the superpredator gangs that controlled their shadowy underbelly gone; the Branwens wanted all the other gangs gone. Vale had made a good try of rooting the infamous Bonecrushers out, and the twins had been planted into the VSS as double agents to stop them. Raven learned their inner workings, and after she rose to power she compromised all their other assets and gave them a simple choice- back off or die. Then she made the VSS an offer they couldn't refuse- they put her at the bottom of their hit list, and she gave them all the information she could on any rival groups she found. Everyone won.
Qrow was their point of contact- he could tell himself he was a triple agent who had gone over to Vale, but for all intents and purposes he was a Branwen asset. He still served the Tribe. If the pretense that he didn't helped him sleep at night… good for him.
Raven pulled out a data chip and passed it across the table.
"We've identified two possible aura users operating out of Kuchinashi." She said. "But there are probably more where that came from. I'll be leading a raid of our own next week, to draw them out and soften them up, but I'm sure Section 4 will be happy to finish the job."
Qrow frowned. " Kuchinashi's out of our jurisdiction."
Raven smirked. "Since when has that mattered? Mistrali intelligence is a joke, they can't even control their own territory. You think they give a damn about their precious 'sphere of influence'?"
Qrow took a swig. "Section 1's gonna hate this."
"Let the suits handle the legal bullshit." Raven shot back. "Gods forbid they have to actually do their job."
Qrow put the chip in his pocket. "I'll pass it on." He said. "Is that all?"
Raven sat still for a moment.
"No. One more thing. That blond you have living in your gym's basement?"
Qrow looked at her strangely. "...Yeah?"
"Get rid of him."
Qrow's eyes hardened.
"Why the hell would I do something like that?"
"Oh, come off it." Raven said. "Even a weakling like you, who's barely a Blessed, has to have sensed it by now."
Qrow shrugged. "I guess not. My eyes were never as sharp as yours."
Raven sighed. "He's a Blessed. A powerful one. A very, very powerful one. And if you don't nip him in the bud right now , you're going to regret it."
Qrow shook his head. "That's impossible."
Raven arched an eyebrow. "...Have you looked at him?"
"Section 4 already cleared his family. The Man of Stone had quite the impressive track record: too impressive. We got suspicious, we investigated -extensively- and we came up empty." Qrow shrugged. "Mason's a prick and a cheater, but his case file's been closed for years. The Arcs don't have the infrastructure required to maintain a Blessed Bloodline."
"They don't need it." Raven said. "Their breeding slaves are free range."
"...Explain. Now.
Raven sighed. " I've sensed his aura, and I've done investigations of my own. It's a potent aphrodisiac, and his healing factor has permeated every part of him to remake and refine his body. The Arcs aren't like other Blessed- they don't need guards or compounds, threats or bribes. They can bind a woman to their will with nothing more than her own lust- more securely than any chain ever could. They might let their broodmares roam free, but they own them. Body, mind and soul. That's more than enough to keep the bloodline going."
There was no other way. The odds of any Blessed having a child with the same power were so low that their only chance was to maximize the number of opportunities. It was a small miracle that Corva had given birth to two Blessed on her first try- and it was a feat she never matched again.
"That doesn't make any sense." Qrow said. "Even if one of them had this stupid sexual magnetism you're hyping up, they couldn't all have it. Semblances are unique, not hereditary."
"Do you know that for sure?" Raven said. "There are so few of us left. How much can we say with confidence about a phenomenon that hasn't been properly studied in over a thousand years?"
Even Kingdom Intelligence operated half blind: the impossible reared its head every day.
"Even if you're right." Qrow said. "...And I'm not saying you are, we don't punish people for what they might do."
"Might?" Raven said indignantly. "I felt him, Qrow. I felt his aura brush against my own. It was… overwhelming . Intoxicating. I…"
She stopped short. Her pale cheeks were flushed like mad, and the memory alone left her chest heaving and her eyes dark.
"Sounds like you've got it bad ." Qrow teased. " And I thought Summer had a type. Guess it does run in the family-"
"-You think this is a joke?" Raven spat. "He's dangerous . Do you really want someone like that around Yang? Or Summer's girl… Ruby? He could have them wrapped around his finger in an instant."
Qrow chuckled.
Raven slammed on her fist on. "Listen to me! He's-"
"-If you actually care about that then you're twelve years too late."
Raven's eyes widened.
"He's been their best friend since kindergarten and they're both crazy about him. We've all resigned ourselves to the fact that he's basically part of the family already, and if anything ever happened to him it would break their hearts. Hell, even Tai would be pissed, in a 'no one murders my future son-in-law but me' sort of way."
Raven stared him down for over a minute, hand tightly gripping her sword.
Her brother didn't budge.
"I'm not one of your thugs, Raven. I won't kill an innocent child just because you told me to."
"You're too soft for your own good." His sister said.
"Am I?" He asked, with a humorless laugh. "That's news to me. And Raven?" He added, as she rose to leave. "If you manage to hurt him, without falling under his charisma spell bullshit…" he let the threat linger in the air. "... I will be very upset."
Raven exhaled as she took her hand off her sword.
"...Do you really still believe there's such a thing as innocence?"
"...I do."
"And do you think Jaune Arc is a child ? When we were his age we were both hardened killers."
Qrow stared into the bottom of the bottle, crushed by a lifetime of regret, one that an ocean of booze couldn't drown away.
"...We were." He whispered. "But he's not. They're not. And hopefully… they never will be." He looked up at his sister's poker face. "Still, it is nice to see you care for once."
"I don't know what you mean." She replied.
"The overprotective mother shtick." He said cheerily. "You're laying it on a little thick, ordering hits on your daughter's sweetheart, but don't think I don't appreciate the effort."
"Love has nothing to do with it," she spat.
Qrow smirked. "I never said 'love.'"
Raven sneered. "...No blood of mine is going to fall into the hands of a rival line. The vessel is of no importance to me. Especially not when she's a cursed weakling."
"Yeah, about that." Qrow said. "Yang isn't exactly normal."
Raven sighed. "I looked her over. Multiple times. Her aura's sealed tight… just like everyone else's."
Qrow nodded. "That's true." He said. "But have you ever noticed how, every once in a while, Yang's eyes flash red?"
"..."
"No?" Qrow asked. " I guess that's something you'd only have figured out if you bothered to stick around."
"So what?" Raven said coldly.
"So what?!" Qrow repeated. "Her aura pool is flaring up, and it's so powerful that a few drops of it are able to leak through the seal. That's a residual Blessing."
"...That's impossible."
"Is it?" Qrow teased. "How much can we really say with confidence about a phenomenon that hasn't been properly studied in over a thousand years?"
...Turnabout was fair play.
"Even if she can't control it, even if it never manifests beyond a slight aesthetic change, the fact that her aura has any effect on her at all is incredible. She's hardly a weakling. And that's not all. You know how many people think Yang is the most beautiful girl in her school?"
"That's hardly an accomplishment-"
"-She goes to Beacon."
Raven allowed herself a small, vain smirk. "Well, she is my daughter." She said. "What did you expect?"
"What did you expect?" Qrow parroted back. "Even if you missed the traces of a Blessing, you couldn't have missed how powerful her latent aura potential was. You had to have known what kind of woman she would grow up to be."
"What's your point?"
"It would have been real easy to abduct her right after she was born; say she died in infancy or something and leave all of us in the dark. Why wouldn't you? Beautiful. Powerful. Disposable. Yang was exactly the kind of breeding stock the Crèche would have killed for."
The Allmother's brow furrowed. "I suppose after wasting 9 months of my life carrying a worthless infant I was too overcome with disappointment to consider what kind of fucktoy the girl might grow into."
Qrow looked into her cold, hard eyes with a sad expression.
"...Is it so awful to admit that you have a heart, Rae?"
Raven looked down at the ground, black bangs covering her eyes.
"...There's no place for weakness in our world." She recited. "... You know that."
She recoiled as her brother laid a comforting hand on her head. "Caring for others isn't a weakness. It's a strength. You should know that."
"Get your hands off me." Raven said coldly, prying herself away from him.
"It's part of your soul, Rae." Qrow said. "That semblance you're so proud of doesn't work without people to attach yourself to. You can't run from that."
Raven went for the jugular.
"What about you, brother?" She asked. "What does your semblance say about your soul?"
Qrow smiled ruefully as he raised his bottle for another drink. "Nothing good." He admitted. "But I've learned to live with that. You should try it some time."
Raven calmed herself as best as she could, focusing all her attention on the input of her senses.
Her heart stopped for a second.
When she spoke again, her demeanor had shifted markedly.
Without even bothering to leave the room she opened up a portal.
"As much as I love these chats of ours, I'm afraid I have better places to be." She said, voice just above the noise of the humming vortex.
Qrow didn't miss the hand gesture she made just before she disappeared. They'd been using them since they were children.
'Read my lips.'
"Your walls are too thin, Qrow." She mouthed. "Take care of it."
Emerald shouldn't have been able to hear it.
It was the barest sound, not even a whisper, but her scroll was locked on their aura and the unique timbres of the Branwen's voices.
' Take care of it.'
Figures. The night had been going so well. She had expected to spend the night nursing a beer and hearing dull chatter from a suspect, parsing out subtle signs. She hadn't expected explicit confirmation that the man was a Blessed, or for him to lead her right to the leader of the legendary Branwens.
She had really hit the jackpot. She had learned that Raven was a skilled sensor with a teleportation semblance, tied to people she cared about. She had a much higher aura level than her brother and a vulnerable daughter they could use as leverage against both of them, and the daughter was an interesting case study in her own right. And there were two completely new Blessed they hadn't even been looking for. Mason Arc, the greatest fighter alive, and…
'Jaune Arc.' She remembered. 'Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue.'
' Ladies love it. '
That was the man Cinder was with. If he had a mind breaking semblance, did that mean…
No. There was no time for that. She had to focus on the mission. How had she been compromised? How badly was her cover blown? How was she going to get out of this?
The scroll she was using was experimental Atlesian tech they had stolen right before the start of the Civil War. Almost no one alive knew how to make it, how it worked. They had no aura of their own, but they did absorb minute amounts of their user's and their target's, to lock on and monitor them. Could Raven have somehow sensed that?
Cinder couldn't have… but for all her brilliance and natural power, Cinder was a bastard who had to figure her powers out on her own. She didn't have a lifetime of formal training, access to an ancient family's knowledge, and Raven had nearly two decades more experience. There was no telling what she was capable of.
They probably hadn't seen her yet. If Emerald could escape somehow, she might even be able to come back and spy again. She didn't look like herself.
Her natural features were too distinct, so she had put on a physical disguise in the car before walking in. Her red eyes were covered by dull green contacts, her green hair hidden under a soft black wig. Her face was caked with makeup and her body was hidden under a baggy hoodie. If they saw her on the street, they wouldn't know it.
Emerald was hanging near the edge of the building, by a street window, seemingly listening to music with headphones in her ear and a scroll in her pocket. She hadn't attracted too much attention yet, only as much as as you'd expect being a young, single girl at a bar.
...Why the fuck hadn't they just sent Mercury!?
She actived her mic with one hand and slipped the other in her pocket, gripping Theif's Respite, just in case.
"Merc." She breathed. "The mission's compromised. I need immediate extraction."
"... Understood ." His voiced crackled in her ears. " Do they see you? "
"Not yet." She whispered. "But they know I'm here."
There was static on the line for several seconds
"Sit tight, and don't make a brake for it. Just wait for my signal."
"... What signal?" She hissed.
" I'll make some noise- "
"Hey."
Emerald's heart clenched.
The bouncer, a tall, well built man with short brown hair and eyes as green as clover approached her. He spoke casually: a little too casually.
"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around in a place like th-"
Emerald shot him right between the eyes.