The Grimm Lands Chapter 18
Hunting Grounds Part 6: Do what you can
Illia
Illia wasn't sure when she had started doing it. Every other day or so she would wander out of whatever safe house she had been stationed in, wander through the streets of Vale, and eventually end up right in front of the bookshop. She never went in, not that she could, the building had been boarded up after the police tape had been removed. Now it was just an empty building rotting in the middle of an ever-bustling city. There was nothing inside, but for some reason, she kept coming back, as if drawn to it.
No, that was a lie. She knew why she kept coming back, and what she hoped to gain. The idea was silly but made her chest seize up in anticipation and the tiniest bit of fear. She was waiting for someone, and the hope that she would stumble into them here was well worth the potential danger of exposing herself out in the open.
She looked human enough, her skin a nice pale and with a baggy jacket and jeans, there was no hint of her Faunus traits. Ever since the disaster in the Forest the police and Huntsmen around town had grown more alert and paranoid. They were rounding up suspicious persons and cracking down on petty crimes, which just so happened to mean in reality that Faunus were becoming bigger targets of the authorities.
It was admittedly a stupid idea to be vaunting herself out in the open like this, but as much as she may have hated the idea, she was far better at blending in with Humans than almost anyone else she had ever met. It was after all one of the biggest reasons Adam had selected her to come with him to Vale.
Regardless, the trips out into the city made her feel at least a little better. The affair in the Forest, the deaths and destruction had been her fault. The guilt was tearing her apart and putting distance between herself and the others made her feel at least a little better.
It had been an absolute disaster, so many wounded, arrested, or dead. If she hadn't gotten so arrogant, so impatient, and had radioed in the invaders instead of rushing headfirst into a fight maybe things would have turned out differently.
The White Fang had been forced to halt their operations. They had come to a dead stop as they waited for the tension to die down around Vale. Despite the circumstances, their partners had seemed all too pleased with the turn of events. The dark-haired woman she had met on the docks had practically purred in delight with the current state of affairs, which Illia simply couldn't understand.
Adam had been congratulated and told it was all part of the larger plan. They had stopped shipping and transporting Grimm, and rather they were tasked with galvanizing protest support from the Faunus around Vale. It made no sense to Illia why they were suddenly switching gears back to protests and boycotts. All it would do would fan the flames between Faunus and the authorities. That was something Illia had already seen the direct outcome of, something she never wanted to see again.
The Faunus, not just the White Fang, were becoming the center point of something terrible. Of that she was certain. The thought made her sick, that she was a tool in the schemes of larger forces than she could fathom. Whatever would happen, would mean far more violence and bloodshed. Adam would say it was all necessary for greater change, but what would Blake have thought?
Blake would never have agreed to any of this.
But again, she wasn't Blake, but she also wasn't Adam.
Who was she?
She blew air out of her mouth as she slunk onto the park bench. She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there. Long enough for her back to start hurting and for the sun to have started dipping into the afternoon. She should head back, but a piece of her wanted to wait a little longer, hoping against hope with both emancipation and fear that a certain someone would show themselves.
She stared blankly at the storefront, watching as people passed by, adults and children alike. None of them ever paid mind to the boarded-up shop. Never giving it more than a passing glance. A shop, whose owner had spent a lifetime of regret and determination to build something from nothing, who in the end was cut down like a rabid animal by one of his own. Someone who would never be known to any of the hundreds who came and went. Just a name blown out by the wind.
Was that all that awaited her and her friends? Gone in a sudden spark, like her parents, like Tukson? The thought was terrifying.
Someone pulled at the doors of the boarded-up shop. They barely budged an inch, locked as they had been for weeks. The small figure, a child, pulled and tugged at the doors, knocking on the glass. Illia watched with curiosity as the child banged on the glass, looking around in a frantic frenzy and uncertainty. The child wore a dark, oversized jacket, hood covering their heads as it draped over their body.
Were they lost? Where were their parents? Illia weighed the idea of going to help. The other passerby cast awkward glances as they carried on with their days. It was strange how groups of people would avoid a clear disturbance in their way, never wanting to broach something that may put them in an awkward situation.
The child kept tugging and knocking for minutes, growing more and more agitated as the time clicked by. Illia was debating what to do when a passing officer tall with a hefty amount of plump came waddling over. He had probably been alerted by one of the many passersby. The child recoiled in fear as he crouched down to grab their wrist. The sudden reaction only agitated the officer further and as the child turned to flee, he grabbed the back of their jacket and the hood tumbled down.
Even from where she was sitting across the street Illia could make out the small white ears popping out of the child's curly white hair. It was a little girl, a Faunus whose wide eyes and trembling lips made Illia choke back a surge of emotion.
The Officer grabbed the child's wrist, probably aiming to take them back to whatever station he was at and file a report on a missing child. The girl pulled and tugged at her captor, screaming and wailing with tears in her frightened eyes for her mother.
In that split moment, Illia was forced back to a time when she had been in that same situation. Alone, starving, and scared she stole from a vendor in Menagerie. She had lost her parents, been expelled from her school for assaulting a student, and had nowhere to call home. It had only been due to the kindness of a raven-haired stranger she had made it through that period of her life.
Illia didn't know what to do. Adam would have stepped forward, struck down the officer, and taken the girl to safety, consequences be damned.
But that would only cause more problems, she should just walk away and mind her own business. It would be for the best after all. The little girl tugged and pulled desperately at the officer and Illia's heart wrenched in her chest.
What would Blake do?
"There you are!" This was a stupid idea. "Why do you keep running off?"
Illia strode up to them, with all the confidence and worry she could muster. The officer, a beady-eyed, red-faced, overweight man looked at her with suspicion. His hand loosened around the thrashing girl's wrist who promptly pulled free and scurried backwards. She was no older than perhaps five or six, Illia cast her a reassuring smile as she stepped between the officer and the girl.
"I'm so sorry for the trouble officer. Illia said sweetly. "She sometimes gets too excited and runs off on her own."
The officer looked unconvinced. "And who might you be?"
"Oh me, I'm…" She couldn't use her real name, if Beacon was onto them then she could already be a target. Brothers, this was a stupid idea. "My name is Kali…I'm her sitter."
"Her sitter?" He asked, his puffy red cheeks made him look like a pufferfish sucking in air.
"Yeah, we were out shopping for groceries for dinner and when I turned away for a moment to pay for them, she was suddenly gone!"
"I don't see any groceries." Illias' heart plummeted.
"Well, when I saw her suddenly gone like that I chased after her. I left them at the store." The officer still looked unconvinced, and Illia could feel the sweat building on her brow.
"And why exactly is the kid you're looking after trying to get inside an abandoned building? Hardly seems the place for a child to be loitering about."
Illia had no answer for that one. She had watched the girl pound away at the door with the same question herself. "I said we could go to the bookstore when we finished shopping, she must have gotten impatient and rushed off on her own."
The girl was cowering behind Illias' legs, peeking around them and staring at the ground. She ducked her head low, mumbling softly to herself. "Momma…"
Illia's heart broke for the girl, she should have stayed out of this, her foolhardiness had forced her to act in a situation she was completely unprepared for. She should have just let the officer take her; and helped find her parents. Yet, the terror in the girl's eyes when she was being pulled away had been too much and Illia knew she had to intervene. However, given the present circumstances, they were probably both bound to end up at the station at this rate.
"That's all well and good miss…Kali. However, I think we should all take a trip down to the station, and get this sorted out. I have witnesses placing the girl here for at least the last thirty minutes. Surely you didn't lose track of her for that long. We can all get comfortable and call her parents."
"I don't think that's necessary sir, I'll take her back home right away." It had been the wrong choice of words. Whatever suspicions she had already cast on herself had only been reinforced. Forget being suspected of being in the White Fang, she might be arrested for Kidnapping.
She bubbled an excuse that fell on deaf ears as the Officer reached out to grab her. For a split moment, she contemplated lashing out and attacking the officer, a reckless move that would only make it far worse for her and the girl.
"There you are! I leave you alone for just a minute and this is what happens?" It was a woman's voice.
They all stopped to turn and look. It was a brown-haired woman this time, just taller than Illia with a lopsided smile and bright hazel eyes. She carried herself well, each stride full of confidence and self-assuredness. She wore a green cloak that covered her brown vest and corset. Her light brown skin was smooth, with a rounded pretty face.
She stopped past Illia grabbing the officer's hand and giving it a firm shake. "Thank you for looking after her, but I'll take it from here."
"And you're…?" The Officer started his beady eyes still holding the same suspicion.
The woman dropped his hand and reached into her cloak, waving away the officer's sudden surprise with a laugh. She pulled free her scroll and handed it over.
"Amber Braun, Beacon Huntress, I see you've had the pleasure of meeting my little protege already." Amber walked back over to the little girl still cowering behind Illias' legs and placed a gentle hand atop her head. "She's terribly shy, so I hope she didn't cause too much of a ruckus."
The officer coughed into his hand before offering Amber back her scroll. He eyed her cautiously before his gaze fell back to Illia. "And would you happen to recognize this girl as well Miss?"
"Hm? Oh, of course, she's the nice lady helping me keep an eye on this little one." Amber said with barely a pause, not even glancing at Illia as she spoke. "Are there any other questions, officer? I'd be happy to help any way I can."
"No, I suppose everything is in order. Sorry for the trouble."
"Nonsense, happy to help." Amber laughed, waving as the plump man lumbered away. As he disappeared Amber looked at both Illia and the girl. Confusion etched itself on her face as she rubbed her chin. Her eyes lit up as she decided on something and with a wide grin she placed her hands on her hips.
"Alrighty you two, let's say we get something to eat! I'm starving!" Amber declared.
"Umm…I don't want to be rude, but I'd rather just be on my way." A huntress alone was bad news, Illia was confident in her disguise, but she'd rather not take any more unnecessary risks.
"Nonsense! It's my treat, Gwyn seems to like you, and if she trusts you then so do I."
"Gwyn?" Illia looked down at the girl still clinging desperately to her legs. She was white as a ghost, shaking in terror. "Is that your name?
Gwyn nodded, looking up to Illia with bright green eyes and Illia once more felt her heart shatter for the little girl. She bent down and gently placed a hand on top of her head, rubbing small circles to comfort her. "My name is Illia,"
Gwyn relaxed if only slightly, her bright green eyes stared straight through Illia as if not focusing on her. "Momma."
"Er…no, it's Illia."
"Momma…" Gwyn said with just a bit more force this time.
Something pushed down on her shoulders, Amber leaned over her, both hands propping herself up atop Illia as she released a long sigh. "It's all she's been willing to say for a while now. She's not really calling you her mom, but I think she's trying to say she trusts you."
"I barely just met her."
"Doesn't matter, Gwyn here is a real good judge of character, call it her special power," Amber said with a wink. "So, while we're here, any idea where I can find the owner of this bookstore?"
Illia looked towards the boarded-up windows, now covered in graffiti. The guilt in her chest welled up again and she looked downwards as she spoke. "He's gone. Don't think he's coming back."
"That so?" Illia could feel Amber's eyes on her. Staring at her from above the woman pulled away with a sigh of defeat. "Well, shoot. We just got here from Vacuo a day or so ago. Was hoping the owner would be able to put us up for a while while we got settled in."
"Aren't you a Huntress? What about just going to Beacon?" Illia asked. Most Huntsmen would reside near the main combat schools in between missions, it only made sense for the woman in front of her to do the same.
"Well yeah, but the schools always ask so many questions," Amber pouted. "Hey Illia, is there somewhere else we could go for a while? I mean I never come to the city much, so I want to see the sights. Meet the people, eat the food."
"I don't know, I'm not from here so I don't know anywhere good," Illia said, surprised by how open the older woman was being. Then a thought occurred. "Hey, wait a minute, don't use my name like we're friends.'
"Aww don't be such a stickler, I already said Gwyn likes you, so we're practically friends already."
"That's not how friendship works," Illia countered.
Their banter was interrupted when Gwyn tugged at Illias pants leg. She pointed to the locked door of the bookstore, "Momma…"
"Ah sorry, I don't think he's coming back." The hurt in the girl's eyes made the regret all the fresher. Illia wanted to say more but the words wouldn't come out. What would she even say? How could she explain any of it?
"Sorry champ looks like we're out of luck this time," Amber suddenly interjected. "Don't worry, let's get something to eat and work it from there?"
Amber lifted Gwyn in her arms and then turned to look back at Illia. "Thanks again for stepping in. She doesn't do well with strangers and I'm glad someone was looking out for her. Are you sure I can't treat you to something?"
"Yeah, I'm good," Illia just wanted to go. "Thanks though."
"Alrighty then, get home safe alright?" Amber was about to leave before Gwyn reached out again to Illia. The small girl fiddled with her jacket for a moment, looking for something. It took a few moments before the girl pulled a bookmark out of her pocket. A wrinkled, withered-looking thing, with a long blue ribbon that had been frayed from years of use. The girl offered it out to Illia, green eyes shining bright. For the first time she didn't look afraid, rather there was a soft kind of warmth in them.
"For me?" Illia asked, gently taking the bookmark from the girl's hand. "Thank you."
"Well, well, look at you making friends all of a sudden." Amber chided.
"Is she your…" Illia started, the question had been lingering on her mind for a while.
"No," Amber laughed. "She isn't. Someone I cared about a lot wanted me to watch over her, so that's what I'm doing. You could call her my very own apprentice."
"I see…" Illia said.
"Make sure you don't lose that," Amber said pointing at the bookmark. "Gwyn would be sad if you did. I'm sure we'll see each other again, but next time, I'd like to see what you really look like Illia, friends shouldn't wear disguises around each other."
Illias' heart dropped. Fear took hold. In a panic she looked down at her arms, they were still humanly pale, no spots or blemishes in sight. She reached out and touched her face as she bumbled out a response. 'Wait you knew…"
"Of course!" Amber laughed once more. "Call it my own special power."
With that, she was gone. Illa's heart beat hard in her chest. She had been found out, she had been caught by a Huntress no less. It was over, everything would be ruined again because of her.
'No! Calm down.' She told herself. Amber had only known she was a Faunus, nothing else. There was no reason to assume that her identity as a White Fang member was compromised. Besides, if she had been found out then there was no way a Huntress would have been as friendly.
Illia steadied her racing heart. She was overreacting, the worst thing she could do now was lose her composure. That would only create more suspicion.
She gently placed the crumpled bookmark in her pocket, it felt warm in her hands but she simply dismissed it as her nerves. Popping her hood over her head she left. There was no reason to assume she was under surveillance, but there was also no harm in taking a few extra turns and twists on her way back to the hideout.
Vale wasn't so different than any other city she had been to. It had its upper, more well-off districts. Places where the parks were clean, the homes looked uniform and pretty, and where kids could loiter around without real fear of the world. Vale also had its worse-off areas; where the houses were cheaper, and the police patrolled a little more frequently. The places where the poorer, or the less well-off could squalor in their filth as far as the rest if the world cared.
After they retreated from the Jade Forest, the White Fang scattered throughout Vale. They took up residency in the darker spots of Vale, places where they could recoup, where they could hide for the time being. Adam had stayed at Juniors Club, but Illia had been moved to the far eastern section of the city, hiding out in the basement of an old bar.
The moldy, dusty cement basement had been carved out sometime after the Great War when smugglers had been shipping in contraband and illegal Faunus laborers during Vales Reconstruction. Now it was used to house the wounded and the sick members of the White Fang. Rows of weathered, broken cots supported the weak and dying.
They didn't have the resources for proper medical equipment. Worst of all they couldn't risk exposure by trying to treat their wounded at an actual hospital. The explosion in the forest had caused quite a few casualties, and the scant doctors they had bribed and the few resources they had managed to steal and scavenge from nearby pharmacies were simply just bandaging a still-gushing wound.
Illia bustled her way through the wounded, trying to block out their low groans and wails of pain. With a huff, she finally reached the far corner of the room and saddled herself gently on the floor.
"You were out later than usual," Geshen said. His face had been wrapped extensively. Illia could make out the splotches of bright red from where the stitches were starting to pull apart, blood had begun to pool on the underside of his jaw. Shuffling over, she grabbed from the grimy pile of rags that she had stuffed under his cot days prior. She gently reached towards him, trying her best to wipe away the worst of the mess.
"We'll have to change your bandages again," Illia said.
"I'll be fine." The fact he could speak at all was a miracle. His wounds from the forest had been extensive. The knife that had been shoved through his jaw had penetrated deep into his skull, barely missing anything vital by mere inches. Illia was amazed he was even conscious of the amount of pain he must be in. Geshen had steadfastly refused any medication. Instead ordering anyone who offered to instead use it on the others.
As noble as the gesture might seem, Illia was more certain it was due to his pride, rather than any sense of responsibility or heroism.
"You keep saying that, but your Aura still hasn't recovered, and you keep running a fever," Illia protested.
"Not that bad. I'm almost back at fighting strength." The bandages muffled his voice, forcing Illia to lean closer just to make out the words.
"Not that bad," She scoffed. "I've seen corpses that look more alive than you."
She wasn't sure where the frustration was coming from. The guilt had long since become a permanent feeling, firmly planted in her stomach at every moment. She stood with a huff, turning away from the reality of what she had caused.
It had been her fault all of this happened. Her gaze fell to the ground, refusing to look around at the rows of wounded and dying. She had done this to them, her indecision and arrogance had caused all of this.
Something tugged at the back of her hoodie and suddenly she felt herself falling, crashing back onto the floor with a thud. The shock of it replaced her grief with a pang of anger. Twisting her head she glared at Geshen. "The hell was that for?"
"You were doing your usual moody shit. It gets old after a while." He spoke.
"Well excuse me for having emotions you overgrown oaf." She shot to her feet; fists clenched at her side in a show of sudden frustration. She hated how flippantly she switched between emotions. It wasn't that she liked being angry, but rather that in the moment it was easier to latch on to whatever was rushing through her mind first. "We can't all be perfect yes men like you now, can we?"
Yet only being met with his usual passive stare made the bitterness suddenly rise inside of her. Her voice dropped lower, a hushed whisper. "This is my fault, I caused all of this because I was too prideful to call back to base!"
Rather than speak Geshen reached out to her. For a moment Illia thought he might grab her, and she flinched at the movement. Instead, Geshen reached over and pulled her hood down, covering her face. He pulled her closer, as to make sure she could hear the soft-spoken words, muffled under layers of gauze and padding.
"Dumbass, we all knew the risks. It could have been anyone, and it could have happened at any time. Don't be so selfish to think it was all you. We all made a choice; it was ours and no one else." Geshen said. "You're not some God, and you're not so special. Don't go making our sacrifices and losses all about you."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" Illia barked out.
"This whole thing is bigger than any one person. Bigger than me and bigger than you. Was bigger than that Belladona bitch as well, but she couldn't see past her own ego and dipped when it got a little too hard."
"Don't talk about Bla-..." The name choked in her throat.
"You look around here and see a bunch of your failures, a bunch of no names and blank faces that you feel responsible for." Geshen continued. "Can you tell me any names? Can you point out anybody here and tell me who they are?"
With a sudden icy feeling of remorse, Illia realized she couldn't.
"Again, not your fault, just never occurred to you," Geshen said. Pushing back her hoodie he pointed a finger over to someone a few cots over. The man was missing part of his lower leg, caught up in the explosion that had destroyed the base. "Kid's name is Russett. No last name, no parents. He's got a kid sister somewhere. She got sold off to traffickers when they were young. He's got nowhere else to go."
Geshen turned her head to her right, pointing out another person she couldn't identify, this time a girl, maybe just a few years older than Illia herself. Illia could see the bloody stain of her bandages just above her abdomen. Her tail hung limply over the side of the cot, part of it missing now. "That one's name is Reg. I found her a couple of years ago outside a whore house in Mistral after a customer had too much to drink and nearly beat her to death in the street."
So it went, Geshen pointing out those around her. Each person, each story made a pang of regret well up inside of her. She had never bothered to know any of them. She had been hand-selected by Adam, and now she realized that had made her arrogant. She hadn't bothered to learn the pains and stories of those she fought with. Yet Geshen, the oversized, muscle-headed idiot knew each one.
"You're doing it again," Geshen said. Illia turned back to look at him. "You're missing the damn point. It's not about what you did or didn't do. Everybody here is fighting for something. We just happen to be wearing the same-looking clothes. You don't get to make their struggles and their pains about yourself. That aint how this all works."
"But I didn't sound the alarm. That Huntsman got by me and caused all of this." Illia protested.
"He got past all of us. Nearly even me." Geshen said. "It ain't your fault. It's just a thing that happened."
"But even still…" She said, "I don't know what to do."
She had spent the days following the attack trying to busy herself. With the exception of her daily walks, she had thrown herself into gathering supplies, pillaging nearby stores, going out into the city to try and drum up new support, or asking for any kind of help she could. All of it was to try and stave off the mounting pressure of emotions she wasn't ready to handle.
"Can only do what's in front of you. Anything more'll drive you crazy." Geshen said.
With a sigh, Illia's shoulders sagged. Reaching into her pocket she touched the bookmark, it felt warm and dangerous. It was like she was walking around with a ticking bomb, biding time until it inevitably blew up with her at the center of it all. She should have thrown it away, discarded it, and never looked back. Yet the thought of Gwyn's teary-eyed face as she had given it to her made Illia hesitate.
She wanted to tell Geshen, to get ahead of the impending disaster that a Huntress might be on to them before it became another problem. Instead, she reached into her other pocket and pulled out a small book. With a sigh, she tossed it into Goshen's lap.
"Here, a gift to help you pass the time." She said it was a collection of poems by a famous Faunus author during the Great War. She had read it in school years ago and had fallen in love with it ever since. She had gone out of her way to try and find another copy, ultimately Blake had been the one to give her it for her birthday. It was a treasured memento, yet Illia's confusion with her own emotions surrounding Blake made her attempts to read it murky and unpleasant.
Geshen simply stared at it. Illia was used to him being sullen and stone-faced at almost all times, yet she had never seen him look quite so confused.
"What? Never seen a book before?" she teased.
"Never read one," Geshen said.
"What do you mean?" Illia asked. "You've never read a book before? What, did you think they were just for decoration?"
"Never learned. The Dust mines didn't have schools."
"Oh…"
He picked up the book with a surprising gentleness. He thumbed through the pages, eyes resting on words and sentences that Illia was sure he couldn't even begin to figure out.
"Adam can read right?" She asked. "I know you two came from the same mine so I just assumed you both knew…"
"Belladonna taught him. She made a big show of it too."
Illia had never known, though it certainly sounded like something Blake would have eagerly done. With a new determination, Illia reached down and pulled the book from his grip. Settling herself down on the side of his cot, she thumbed through the pages. She knew which page exactly she needed; she knew which poem she wanted. She had read the book so often she was sure she didn't even need the book itself. Yet she shifted slightly, drawing her leg closer to her body, and started to read aloud.
He didn't say a word, but Illia knew Geshen was listening. When she was done, perhaps she would help him make out a few words of a poem.
It was a small thing, but at that moment it was something only she could do.
A.N: Well Hello! This was meant to be a much longer chapter but I figured an update was due. The next one is almost done, just a few more touchups and hopefully, I can get it by next week. For real this time. I'm sorry for the long waits between chaters but life is a real problem. However, I hope this helps a little bit. In other news...
I am looking for a Beta Reader. Mostly, the biggest reason the chapter isn't longer is because I am in desperate need of a beta. If anyone is interested I would be super appreciative. Regardless next week is a hard deadline for me so it will be out with or without one.
I will also be responding to all reviews in the next update. Hope you enjoyed and I will see you all soon!
A Preview...
Pyrrha
"I'm going to Beacon," She had said it, she had finally made her decision.
"Sweetheart, what is this about?" Her Mother asked, worry lacing her voice. Pyrrha had expected the question, it was only natural, but after all her hours of practicing and rehearsing potential responses in her room, her tongue suddenly couldn't find the words to express herself.
"For school, I want to go to Beacon Academy," She was nearing graduation in the coming Spring, finally she could put her time at Sanctum Academy behind her. She could walk away from it all and start fresh.
"Pyrrha, I want you to think about this," Her mother started. "It's not as simple as just transferring to another school. You're talking about attending Combat School on another continent. I thought you had already decided you were going to Haven. What about your competitions? Your Friends? You'd be starting over from scratch.
'That's exactly the point,' She wanted to say it but she couldn't bring herself to. Her mother had always been supportive, and understanding, but how could Pyrrha possibly bring herself to talk about the real reason she wanted to go so far from home?
"You already have a full acceptance into Haven don't you, so why on Remnant would you want to drop everything all of a sudden and go so far from home?" The concern in her mother's voice made Pyrrha's resolve waver.
"I think this would be the best option for me. Beacon is still a top academy, and I'm sure I would have no issues getting accepted."
"I know you're more than capable, love, but that's not my concern. This is all so sudden. Are you sure you don't want to slow down and think about this a little more?"
All she had done was think about it. Hours, days, and weeks had all been spent trying to justify to herself why running away was for the best. If she had to go to Haven, if she had to stay, then she would be forced to see them all again. Her teammates, her fans, all those haughty, condescending adults who saw her as the prize object of their perverted and greedy ambitions. She would still be just an object and she would still be all alone. She couldn't bear it any longer.
The thought of enduring four more years of it all was suffocating. Pyrrha clenched her fists, trying desperately to hide her grimace. She didn't want her parents to worry. They had always supported her and had always been the greatest source of comfort during the more turbulent times of her rise to stardom. Even so, this was something she had to do for herself, the thought of leaving home was terrifying, it broke her heart in more ways than one to up and leave her parents, but she had had enough of Argos, enough of Mistral.
"There's nothing to think about, Beacon is a fantastic school and I'd be more than lucky to attend."
"Are you sure this has nothing to do with your teammates? I know you had a little fight the other day. Is everything alright?"
There was no fight. Her 'teammates' had thought it be funny to hide her equipment somewhere in the school after class. They had waited until she had finished her training. When she had gone to take a shower to clean the sweat and grime off, they broke into her locker and stashed away her armor and weapons around the school. It had taken hours to find them all, and all the while they had played innocent, barely even offering to help as they snickered and watched.
It had been frustrating but not uncommon and Pyrrha was becoming used to it. It had been this way she had started at Sanctum, for three whole years she had dealt with the constant bullying and harassment from those she thought she was supposed to trust. The idea of spending four more years with the same groups of people made her nauseous. She wanted a fresh start, a place far away from there and if she had to leave her family to do it then she would, as much as the thought tore at her heart.
"Pyrrha, you're scaring me," Her mother continued. "Just the other day you were practically glowing with pride on your acceptance letter to Haven, and now you're saying the exact opposite."
"There's no reason for you to worry, I promise Mom. This isn't just some whim, I know what this means but I also want to try living my life away from Argos for a bit. I want to see new places, experience new things."
Her mother looked unconvinced, but Pyrrha knew she would relent. Her parents had always been the opposite of what most others thought. She had seen the rumors in tabloids, the lies in magazines and web articles that her parents were controlling, manipulative gold diggers who pushed her into the spotlight. In reality, they supported her wholeheartedly in anything she wanted to do. They encouraged her to start training in combat sports when her Aura unlocked itself during her early school years. They had been right there with her when her first sponsorship offer arrived on their doorstep. They had helped her design and pick her weapons and held her when she cried after her first official loss. She loved them so dearly, and trusted them so intensely, but how could she possibly look them in the eye and tell them the truth when they had been right there when she had excitedly declared she had wanted to attend Sanctum? How could she justify herself in earnest when they had all been so excited when a scholarship found itself in their mailbox? How could she now look at her loving, doting mother and tell her that she regretted it all?
She had become Pyrrha Nikos, the shining star of Mistral, and in the process had become herself no longer.
"I'm not so sure, this is a lot to take in. If this is what you really want then I want to support you, but can we wait until your father gets home, then we can discuss it as a family?"
"Yeah," Pyrrha said. "I'd like that."
