Finally back after a brutal work event. Flew out on a Wednesday. Found out Thursday the ship had a mechanical issue, so flew home Friday. Found out Monday morning that they were ready and wanted us there in the morning, meaning I had to book a flight that evening to go to the other side of the country. First day at sea, we were racing a cyclone and everyone got horribly sick (Taco Tuesday was a bad idea). No phone. No internet. Tiny bunk (with my elbow on the mattress, my fingers touched the next bunk). And we extended an extra day, too. But best of all, nothing worked, so we gained nothing as a result. Needless to say, I was so glad to get home this week.
Didn't get much time for writing, sadly, as we were troubleshooting non-stop and I didn't have a convenient place to write until near the end of the trip. Did get some planning time in, though, and decided to start ramping up the pacing a little. Things are gonna start moving a little quicker for a bit, as I think 50+ chapters of runway is more than enough to get the real story off the ground. That and I'm finally getting to the parts I've been eager about for over a year now, so it's time to let 'er rip!
It didn't take long to recognize that Fletcher wasn't an isolated incident. Most of their business partners weren't an issue, but it seemed like almost every town had at least one person like Fletcher. Most weren't as obvious about it, but it was hard to miss the signs. A woman rushing her children out of a store when he entered. A clerk following him through the aisles as he shopped. Merchants clamming up when they spotted him. By themselves, these incidents were nothing more than nuisances. But together, they began to form a disturbing pattern.
The worst were when Soji brought him along for a trade deal. He hated knowing his presence was impacting Soji's business, even if the results were usually profitable. The longer they haggled, the longer they had to put up with an animal in their office. Adam had a feeling they'd gotten better deals several times thanks to his horns, but that only made him feel worse. He knew the numbers. He'd seen the past reports. It wasn't profit to him. It was a price – the price people would pay to avoid him. He now knew exactly how much he was worth. Rather, he knew how much his absence was worth, and the price was uncomfortably high in many cases.
As much as Soji claimed it wasn't the case, they both knew the truth, so he wasn't surprised when Adam finally refused to tag along. "I think I'll stay here this time."
"Is everything all right?" Soji's concern spoke volumes of the man's character. If only everyone else could follow his example.
"I'm fine," Adam lied. He'd begun to hate their meetings with a passion. The thrill had gone out months ago. No amount of negotiations could make up for how one bad interaction felt. Better to avoid them all and let life get back to normal.
"Are you sure?" Neither of them believed Adam's assurances, but Soji wouldn't force anything on Adam. "If you say so. Perhaps Jean will be available for training. You should hear him brag of your progress when you're not around."
As always, Soji knew just how to cheer him up. Jean was an absolute taskmaster, driving Adam ever harder, just as he'd promised. Praise was a rarity and often delivered in an almost backhanded way, as if every bit of progress was merely the expectation and nothing to celebrate too much. Still, Adam had caught little bits of praise when Jean thought he wasn't listening. The pride in Jean's voice at those moments drove Adam on.
Finding Jean was never too difficult a task, as long as you knew where to look. Their hotel was only down the road from the tavern, and after assuring himself of the emptiness of Jean's room, Adam made for the only other place Jean frequented. He really hoped Jean would be in the mood for a spar. His chat with Soji had riled him up, and he had need to vent some steam. The man who crossed the street just to avoid him certainly didn't help matters.
Adam spied his target almost as soon as he entered the small tavern, chatting up some local Adam half-recognized from their many stops in Higanbana. Jean caught him looking and nodded, signal enough that he'd come chat in a minute. He must've been in the middle of one of his tall tales.
In the meantime, Adam busied himself with the only other occupant of the room. "Gimme one on Jean's tab."
"Ain't you a little young for the drink?"
"Never stopped you before," Adam countered, drawing a laugh from Flanagan.
"No, I 'spose not," the man answered as he filled a tankard and slid it into Adam's waiting hand. He still didn't like the stuff, but he didn't hate it as much as he used to. Besides, the foul taste was nothing compared to how miserable he felt this morning. "Rough day?"
"Wouldn't be drinking if it wasn't."
"That you wouldn't," Flanagan agreed as Adam downed a good third of his drink. "Try not to spew it this time."
Adam wiped his lips as he swallowed. "It was one time!" And considering it was his first beer ever, Adam felt he deserved a little leniency for the reaction. He'd made sure to boast of his drink in Shizukana when they returned. Flanagan refused to believe it until Adam downed an entire tankard in front of him. Adam never could resist a challenge.
"One time so far," Flanagan laughed. "So what's eatin' ya this mornin'?"
Flanagan was good at two things: pouring drinks and listening. Adam appreciated them both right now. "People." It felt like a good enough summary. "The world would be a better place if there weren't so many of them around."
Flanagan grinned. "Aye, but it would be a lonely one."
"Fine. We'll just get rid of the idiots."
"Same problem. Besides, I'd be out of business if there weren't no fools around." Flanagan's company always helped more than his drink. "That's the problem with mankind. Too much man, not enough kind."
"I'll drink to that," Adam said, raising his drink.
"What are we drinking to?" Jean asked as he approached. Flanagan must've seen him coming, as a fresh drink met Jean at the counter.
"To the foolishness of humanity!" Flanagan cheered.
"To me!" Jean echoed, drowning his chuckle in a mighty gulp. "I take it you didn't just come here to get plastered. What's the matter?"
"I'm not training, that's what," Adam answered as he slammed his empty tankard on the counter. "Outside. Loser pays for the next round."
"I never turn down a free drink," Jean boasted, polishing off his own before tossing some lien on the counter. "Might as well start pouring. This shouldn't take long."
It probably didn't feel long to Flanagan, but in terms of a fight, their spar stretched on for a while. Adam took out his frustrations on Jean as best he could, with the far more experienced man playing defense at first, recognizing Adam's need to vent. The clash of steel echoed down the street, drawing several curious onlookers to watch the spectacle. Adam only fought harder with each new attendee.
They're here to watch you lose. They probably assumed he'd just attacked someone in the street and were watching for their local hero to put down the rabid animal. By nightfall, they'd be spreading tales of how Jean had faced down a violent faunus assassin. Maybe a whole squad of them. But Adam didn't care.
They'll never change. He couldn't convince them to see him as anything more than the horns on his head. No words would sway their presupposition against him. Even if Adam laid down his weapon and spent the rest of his days doing charity work, they'd just say he was trying to atone for his past sins or something stupid. All they'll ever see is a monster.
Maybe they'd see him differently once he was stronger. Maybe one day he'd save them from the Grimm – the real monsters – and they'd finally understand. If not, at least he'd be strong enough that none of them would dare challenge him. Either way, he'd earn his victory over their hatred someday. He just had to be stronger than it.
For now, though, he'd have to focus on getting stronger than Jean, who quite suddenly switched from punching bag to terror and put Adam on the back foot. He didn't go down right away – something Adam took immense pride in – but his defeat was inevitable. The result was as it always had been. Jean the victor standing over a defeated Adam. Their small audience nodded in approval, with some even clapping at the defeat of the villainous faunus at the hands of their idol.
"Get up," Jean instructed, offering his hand, which Adam gratefully accepted. None of the people watching would understand just how much Jean had done for him, even through a simple spar. As exhaustion began to overwhelm his anger, Adam panted in relief. Soji was right. Fighting was the greatest medicine Adam knew. "Good work," Jean announced louder than needed. He must've picked up on the source of Adam's frustration. "I think you've earned yourself a drink."
"I said loser pays," Adam reminded him as they turned away from the morons of the world and headed for their sanctuary to trade their ailments for ale.
"Then I'd never have to pay again," Jean joked. He wasn't wrong. So far, Adam didn't have a true victory to his name. "Poor, winless Adam."
"Hey! I've won before," Adam protested. "I beat that Beowulf a while back. And what about that Ursa last week?"
"One Ursa," Jean stressed. "Or did you forget about the three I had to kill."
"I could've taken them," Adam complained, though it was mostly just bravado. One Ursa was doable. He might've even been able to take on a second, if he had to. Still, the single combatant felt like a pretty significant victory for someone his age. "Not my fault you hogged all the kills."
"Couldn't let you have all the fun."
And just like that, Adam no longer cared about who won, the scattered group of onlookers, or whether they hated him or not. At least for the moment, all that mattered was his simple life as part of the Yama caravan. Apprentice to a merchant and a guard. Skilled enough to hold his own against a Grimm.
And more than that, a man with a purpose.
/- - - - - - - - - -/
Adam had begun to grow quite fond of their boring trips between towns. Out here, there was no one to worry about. No racist businessmen refusing to trade with him around. No random passersby eyeing him warily or steering their loved ones in the opposite direction. Just him, his family, and the lonely trail.
Refusing to attend any more trade meetings had helped with his biggest problem, but it was the extra training that really paid off. It was hard to care what a random stranger might think of you when a sword was aimed at your face. In those brief moments, the world actually made sense. Two opponents, each with a clear goal, fighting for victory. There were no hidden agendas to discern. No subtle hints to decipher. Just two fighters striving to see who would prevail. All that mattered was strength.
And that's how Adam liked it.
With the profits from another Mistral trip behind them, along with the tight confines of Hinoki Forest, Adam breathed a sigh of relief at the mundane stretch of the highway that cut through western Anima. There wasn't much to do on days like today, which meant he could do whatever he wanted. Listen to the radio. Read that book he'd picked up in Mistral. Or even just let his mind wander while Soji took his turn driving.
He used to hate having time to himself like this. His mind wasn't a kind place. It still wasn't, but he'd gotten used to it in time. The haunting voice mostly kept quiet on their long journeys, at least until they reached the next town and it bore down on him with all the doubt and worry it could muster. At times like that, he would drag Jean or Jesse out for a spar. Nothing drowned out evil whispers quite like the ring of steel on steel and the pounding of one's own heart in the heat of battle. In the meantime, as long as he had something to focus his attention on, he didn't often have to deal with her.
Adam had nearly mentioned it to Soji once. Telling people he sometimes heard a voice in his head would be dangerous. That might earn him a one-way trip to the loony bin. Or worse, they might ask who the voice belonged to and start digging into his past – a place he avoided at all costs. Soji had caught him at a bad time once, muttering denials to the hated voice after dealing with a rather rude shop owner. The man's sincere concern nearly drew the truth out of Adam, but how could you explain something like that? Would Soji believe him? Would he think Adam crazy? Or would he act differently with Adam, tiptoeing around the subject as best he could.
Adam didn't want that. He didn't want people to treat him differently. He just wanted to be Adam. Nothing more. A teenager judged not by his looks or his past, but by his present. And someday he'd rise far enough that his past would be nothing but a distant shadow, no matter what denials echoed in the recesses of his mind.
But for now, he'd have to content himself with the life of a merchant with only his small family and an endless army of trees to keep him company.
"Anything good on that squawk box of yours lately?"
"Not much," Adam answered as Jesse pulled alongside their wagon. He turned the current broadcast up a little to let Jesse listen in. "Some big awards show in Mistral tonight. Other than that, all they're talking about is some agreement to increase inspections at dust mining facilities in Anima."
"That sounds good." It did. Adam wondered if the White Fang protests had helped that along. Faunus-related news had quieted down a bit recently, replaced by celebrity gossip, Tournament chatter, and political speculations. Everything was pretty much back to normal. "What's the award show about?"
"Movie awards." Adam didn't know much about movies beyond the old ones the orphanage would sometimes show.
Jesse cocked his head to the side. "Didn't they just have one of those?"
Adam could only shrug. He vaguely recalled something about that a while back, but he mostly tuned out on stories that didn't interest him. Celebrities congratulating themselves for being famous fell squarely in that category. He couldn't think of much that interested him less, though political campaign news came in a close second. "How much longer 'til our next stop?"
"Three days," Soji chimed in. "Four if we let the horses rest. We'll need them fresh for the next leg of the journey."
"You could always get out and push."
"Or we could hitch you up with the horses," Soji threw back with a smile. "If you can run your legs as fast as you run that mouth, we would be there tomorrow."
"And miss all this beautiful scenery?" Jesse beamed as he waved an arm to the quiet wilderness around them.
"That's what I thought," Soji said, returning his focus to the trail.
"You lookin' forward to the coast?"
"Always," came Jesse's predictable answer. Jesse always seemed to come alive when they neared the western port towns. Jean claimed he just liked watching the beach bunnies, though Adam had yet to see any rabbits taking a swim in the ocean.
The truth was, Jesse came from a fishing village on the edge of Sanus. He'd grown up around boats his entire childhood before setting off for Anima aboard a cargo ship, but things hadn't worked out and he quickly found himself on a new continent with no job and only a handful of lien to his name. He'd offered to help Rikyu load their wagons one day while looking for work, and the rest was history.
Reaching the coast meant a few things. Warmer weather. Pristine beaches. But most of all, a couple of days rest. "I can't wait," Adam offered, twisting to stretch out his back a little. "Think we'll see any-"
"Hold on a sec," Jesse interrupted, catching a brief wave from Jean. "Be right back."
"What was that all about?" Adam asked quietly as Jesse caught up to the front of the caravan and began chatting with Jean. Jesse always stayed at the rear of the caravan. If Jean needed to tell them anything, he wasn't exactly shy of yelling. He almost seemed to enjoy stretching the old pipes, as he sometimes called it.
"I'm sure it's nothing," Soji promised. His words didn't exactly fill Adam with confidence. Probably because they were just words. It was hard to miss the hint of doubt in his voice, or the ways his hands tightened unconsciously around the horses' reins.
As a result, Adam found himself sitting up a little straighter, the newfound tension in the air infecting him as well. His eyes shot to the side as the shadows of the trees taunted his peripherals. He searched for some hidden danger, but no matter how hard he looked, there wasn't anything there. All was as quiet and calm as it had always been. The same stillness that had bored him only minutes before now felt crushing as he sought for the imagined threat.
Finally, after what felt like hours, but was likely only a minute or two in reality, Jesse slowed his horse and drifted back to them. "Everything alright?" Soji asked for them the moment Jesse came close.
"Bandits."
The single word hung in the still air, casting a pall over them. "Are you sure?"
"Jean thinks so." And Jean was rarely wrong. Years of experience combined with his Semblance made him a living radar for stuff like this.
"What do we do?" Bandits weren't exactly a caravan's best friend, but they'd encountered them a few times before. Most bandits were just common criminals looking for easy pickings away from the cities. A couple of idiots with guns might be trouble for most people, but Jean and Jesse both had aura. All it took was one shot pinging off them for most bandits to cut their losses and flee. Why risk a prolonged fight when the next caravan might be easier prey?
Still, underestimating a foe was a good way to get yourself killed. Not everyone in the caravan had the benefit of a personal force field. One stray shot could mean the end of someone like Soji. Or they could take out some of the horses and slow the group down. While not as bad as losing a member of the team, it would still mean a slower pace, food rationing, and an extra expense at the least. To hear Soji whine, it might as well have been the end of the world.
"Keep your sword handy," Jesse needlessly instructed. Adam always had Thorn at the ready. Jean didn't always announce their spars. You could only be left scrambling for a weapon so many times before you learned to be prepared. "Hopefully, they'll scout us out and decide we're not worth it, but if fighting breaks out, duck in the wagon for cover."
"I can help!" Adam protested. He'd fought and killed Grimm for the caravan. Why should bandits be any different?
Jesse shook his head. "Not you, Adam." Oh. "Have your aura up and guard the wagons. If someone gets by us, it's your job to stop them. But if something happens…"
"It won't."
"If something happens," Jesse continued, "You make sure they get to safety. Everyone's relying on you to get them to safety."
"Not everyone," Adam grumbled, not at all a fan of the plan. Did they really expect him to abandon them if there was trouble? It was like the Beringel bridge all over again.
Jesse smiled. "Have a little faith in the old guys, will ya?"
"How long do we have?" Soji asked, always keeping focused on the important questions.
"Not too long. Jean figures they'll make their move when we stop next. Easier to surround us," Jesse added for Adam's benefit.
"Then shouldn't we keep going?" If stopping gave the bandits such an advantage, then why stop at all?
"We have to stop eventually," Jesse explained. "Don't want to wear the horses out so far from town. Besides, it'll give us the chance to circle up a bit and see if we can't scare them off a bit. The hope is they'll see two guards and move on."
It wouldn't be the first time. Jean had cried bandit before, but nothing came of it most of the time. They'd wait for a bit, then Jean would do a quick perimeter check before giving the all clear. From anyone else, it might look like a false alarm, but Adam trusted Jean's instincts when it came to threats. If he said there were bandits, then there were bandits. Whether they attacked or not was a different matter.
Better to be prepared and not need it than the other way around.
Two nerve-wracking hours later found them finally stopping for a breather. Adam spent the entire time watching for the potential attack, convinced they wouldn't wait. But like Jean said, nothing happened. They rode in absolute silence, an eerie stillness taking over the trail as the only sound was them rattling along. Even the birds had abandoned them, as if they could sense the coming conflict and decided to get while the getting was good.
At Jean's instruction, they pulled the wagons in close to each other, but only Jean and Jesse ventured beyond the safety of the caravan. They didn't go far. Just enough to make them stand out. More importantly, the weapons they carried stood out. If any bandit was watching, not only did they know the group was armed, but they'd know they'd been detected. The smart thing to do would be to abandon the idea and find someone else to pick on.
Bandits weren't exactly known for their intelligence.
"Well, what do we 'ave 'ere boys?" A haggard voice asked, announcing the arrival of a trio of armed bandits. The leader – a wiry man with a large pistol and a deep scar snaking down the side of his face – surveyed the pair of guards without much concern. Adam peeked out at the group from within the wagon, keeping hidden for the time being.
"We're just passing through," Jean said calmly, his hands tightening on the shaft of his axe. "We're not worth your time. Not much cargo aboard right now. Not even worth your trouble."
"I'll be the judge o' that," the bandit leader replied, dashing any hope of a simple resolution. 'What's say I pop my 'ead in there for a sec and see just what all you got."
"You don't want to do that."
"I'll be fine," the man promised, ignoring the obvious threat in Jean's words. "Besides, you still haven't paid the road tax."
"Road tax?"
"Yeah. The road tax." Their aggressor grinned like he'd made some great joke. "We own these here roads. What with all the upkeep and keepin' them clear of unsavory types, the least you could do is pay us for all that trouble." His groupies chuckled at their little joke.
Jean didn't seem keen to play along. "We really must be on our way."
Playtime was over. The bandit leader leveled his gun at Jean, even as the two behind them readied their weapons – a spiked club and a pair of short swords. "Lay down your arms or lay down your life. Either way, them wagons is mine."
Jean didn't waste any time, charging forward to force the fight away from the wagons. His target only smiled, firing a shot that smacked Jean in the shoulder, but his aura made sure it only slowed him a step. He brought his axe crashing down on the man's skull in return.
Only to be blocked by a club.
"Nice try, old man," the leader laughed as Jean tried to force through the weapon lock, only to dodge back as a shot narrowly missed him. A shot that came from the side rather than in front. "But you're not the only one with fancy tricks."
Another shot had Jesse jumping, a cloud of dirt and dust springing to life just behind him. Somewhere in the trees, they had support. Without a word, Jesse broke off in the direction of the sharpshooter, leaving Jean to take on the other three alone. He was more than a match for any of them, but they didn't let him press his advantage. Anytime he focused on one, the others would attack, forcing him to move lest they surround him. Little by little, they herded him around the battlefield, striving to keep him away from their backup. Jesse must've found them, as the shooting stopped, replaced by the familiar sound of steel on steel instead.
It didn't take long to recognize the bandits' plan. They were slowly herding Jean away from the wagons. He did his best to fight his way back, but they kept up the pressure, stalling his every effort. In the midst of it, their leader managed to break free and ran straight for the wagons.
"Too easy," he laughed as his sidekicks blocked Jean from following. "Let's see if you change your tune once one of your precious merchants is-"
Adam waited until the moment his hand touched the wagon, swinging for the man's throat before he knew what hit him. He managed to sway to the side at the last second, but that didn't stop Adam striking his shoulder. Purple light met the merciless blade, preventing Adam from ending it in one blow.
"Whoa!" The bandit leader fired a clumsy shot that forced Adam back a step. "Hiding a kid in the wagon. Nice try, but you'll have to do better than-"
Adam didn't wait for him to finish. One of the lessons Jean had drilled into him was how to deal with a ranged opponent. If you couldn't match their range, then you had to eliminate it. Aggression was the key. Get in close and stay there, never giving them time to gain the space they needed. Hit them fast and hit them hard.
Just how Adam liked it.
Adam's sword sparked off the edge of the pistol, his opponent abandoning shooting for a small shield against the new onslaught. The moment the weapons met, Adam reversed and spun low, aiming to hamstring his target, who dove to the side. Adam rushed in again, but the brief break gave the bandit time to ditch his pistol for something more suited to close combat. A two-handed sword.
Adam couldn't help but smile at the familiar match-up.
The bandit leader was no slouch, quick on his feet and good at blocking, but Adam had thrown him off with his initial assault and refused to let him get his bearings again. In a real fight, an all-out attack was only wise if you knew you could overwhelm your opponent. Otherwise, it would just leave you tired and open to counterattack. Jean often told him he could be his own worst enemy, overdoing it until he wore himself out and making himself an easier target. He needed to control the flow of battle rather than drive it.
Luckily, this wasn't a proper fight.
Adam wanted to win, but he didn't have to strike down his opponent for that. This man clearly had plenty of experience, both in fighting and with his aura. A prolonged battle would probably end poorly for Adam, but all he really had to do was keep him busy. Jean had the advantage on his two now, and once he prevailed, they could double-team the leader. The now worried glances their leader kept shooting at his underlings showed they both knew what was coming.
"Back off, kid!" He yelled, kicking at Adam's legs and finally stalling the whirlwind of blows long enough to get a swing of his own in. Adam blocked almost by instinct. The next strike barely grazed his arm, aura rushing to blunt the impact. "Why won't you just go down?"
"You first," Adam growled as he met the next swing against his sword. The bandit leader leaned into the attack, intent on overpowering him with sheer size. Adam braced his other hand against the back of his blade, fighting to keep him back, even as he felt himself falling inch by inch. His knee hit the ground a moment later, but still he held on, glaring up into the evil face above him. Gravity and size worked in his enemy's advantage. His guard couldn't hold forever, and once it broke, he'd be in serious trouble.
"Adam!" Jean didn't yell so much as roar, catching a club in his hand and practically hurling it to the side. The woman wielding it refused to let go, but the force of it spun her around to face Adam's impending failure.
Her face went blank as Jean's axe carved into the back of her skull.
Everything seemed to freeze in that moment. Adam felt the strain lessen as the bandit leader locked eyes with the corpse dangling from Jean's weapon. The other bandit hesitated, eyes wide at the sudden loss on their side. Jean panted for air. Then, with a sickening squelch, his axe slid free, dropping his victim into a crumpled heap on the ground.
"Fall back," the bandit leader begrudgingly called. Not that he needed to. The other bandit bolted before he even finished giving the order. He kicked Adam back before making his own retreat, but not before promising, "You'll pay for this." His voice echoed as the trees enveloped him, leaving Jean and Adam alone in the clearing as the merchants poked their heads out from the wagons.
"You okay?" Jean asked as he rushed over, hauling Adam to his feet. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"That's what aura's for," Adam laughed, punctuating it with a sharp cough. Jean looked ready to rush him to the nearest hospital. "I'm fine. He barely even hit me."
"I'm fine too!" Jesse hollered as he limped out of the trees. "Thanks for asking."
"Yeah, but she's not," Adam said, pointing to the body Jean had left behind.
Jean turned to look at his handiwork for a moment before turning back to Adam. "They left me no choice. I couldn't let-"
"It's okay, Jean," Adam promised. "She was just a bandit. Besides, they attacked you first."
"Yeah…just a bandit," Jean repeated.
In the meantime, Jesse had knelt by the body, rolling her over as he picked up her weapon. "Actually, she wasn't just a bandit."
"What you find?" Jean asked as he walked over. Jesse whispered something, pointing to the dead woman's clothes. Whatever he said had Jean's eyes widening. "Out here? Are you sure?"
"You wanna risk it?"
Apparently, Jean didn't. "Everyone in the wagons. We're leaving immediately."
"What's going on?" Adam didn't understand. They'd won. Surely they had time to catch their breath at least.
Jean didn't bother explaining. "Pick up the pace! We don't stop unless we have to. The faster we get out of here, the better."
No one else questioned the orders and within a few minutes they were blazing down the trail like they had a pack of Beowolves behind them. Adam tried asking Soji, but even he seemed somewhat in the dark. "I don't know, but if Jean thinks we're in danger, I won't be sticking around to test his theory."
And so they rode. All evening they pushed their horses faster and faster, the wagons bouncing along the highway at a frightening speed. They stopped as the sky grew dark, but only for a little while. Before Adam could even get a fire going, Jean came back with a handful of crude torches, lit them, and handed them out to each wagon.
They rode all through the night, a procession of lights braving the bleak night. Even as the torches began to dim and go out, they pressed on, sticking to the trail by what little light broke through the forest canopy above. No words were spoken. The only sounds were the rumbling of the wagon wheels and the occasional complaint from the horses.
Morning found them continuing their mad dash after a very short rest. They ate a cold breakfast and were on their way before the food even settled. Adam watched for whatever hidden danger nipped at their heels, but nothing appeared. Not that Jean ever slowed. They'd set new records for reaching the next village, but Adam knew their horses would be all but spent. Whatever drove them on, Jean deemed it worthy of the extra days of recovery, which only drove home how serious the situation was. It was a race against some hidden danger, and Jean seemed determined to win it.
Until the entire caravan screeched to a halt.
The path ahead was blocked by a lone figure. At first, Adam thought it some strange Grimm that challenged them. It didn't move, simply watching them with its heavily plated face. A thick mane of black hair trailed down the creature's back, waving in the breeze. Thin lines traced down its face to a body of black and red. Adam had never seen a Grimm bleed like that before, but the truth was far more terrifying.
This was no Grimm that defied their flight. It was a person. A woman. It was only one person, yet her very presence dominated the trail and kept them fixed in place as she calmly reached down and drew a sword that hissed and glowed with the promise of naught but their demise.
Who could it be? Almost spelled it out, but figured you'd all recognize a canon character without too many hints. Given the similarities between the two in canon (weapon, color scheme, Grimm mask), I figure there had to be some sort of connection there. But what exactly does Raven want from a simple caravan? Guess you'll find out next week!
Trying not to have too many chapters of just anti-faunus racism, but unlike RT, we're actually gonna show some of it. We'll just sprinkle it in along the way. We could spend weeks showing how it builds, the role a sensationalist media plays in fanning the flames, how it spreads from the larger cities and begins to trickle down to smaller settlements, the disproportionate impact it has in some areas, etc. But that would get old fast, and I'd rather focus on Adam than the state of affairs in Remnant as a whole. Hoping it strikes a decent balance of Adam encountering racism against him along the way and turning him bitter over time without weighing down an already large story any more.
Also, couldn't resist the subtle Dragonheart reference with the road tax. I'm sure other media have used a line like that, but I remember watching the medieval buddy cop movie of Dennis Quaid and a dragon voiced by Sean Connery dozens of times as a kid. Fantastic movie. Never bothered with the sequels, though. The part about the road tax was always funny to me. So naturally, here it is in my writing.
Anyways, I'm still clawing my way back to the land of the living after two weeks of chaos. Gonna make my wife an overdue Valentine's Day steak dinner tonight and just relax, then return to streaming tomorrow. Also gonna be trying out DnD for the first time ever with some online friends. My slightly OP Paladin (really lucky stat rolls of 14-17 on everything) is gonna cause some chaos. Should be a fun way to celebrate this trip being over.
Next chapter: Raven confronts the caravan.