Arc 2 - Chapter 27: Who Else's Fault Could it Be

The light rain sounded like television static on low volume. The sky was swollen with thick clouds of black and gray, bubbling and boiling over as if there were flames in the atmosphere, cooking the very air. This couldn't be the case however, not with how arrestingly cold it was. Colder than the deepest cesspool of hell. Only the moonlight broke through the dark, but that was of precious little comfort, for it cast its ghost-pale rays upon the ruined world in a thousand searchlights, seeking out an object of interest.

Even in her lowest moments, and Peach had been in many, she could always appreciate the rain. It was a nice reminder that the world did not revolve around any one person, or anyone at all for that matter. No matter what you did, what you failed at or accomplished, no matter how good or bad your day was, no matter the things you hated or loved, be they times of war and death or peace and prosperity, the rain always fell, above and unconcerned with the creatures it inconvenienced. She could breathe in that musty, salty odor, lose herself in her thoughts, a moment of zen. But this rain did not give her peace, it did not let her escape into deep thought. It did not smell the way it was supposed to.

Instead, the air was thick with a strangely sweet, strangely acrid aura. So strong that it burned the insides of Peach's nostrils, made bile bubble up in her throat, sizzle on her tongue like stomach acid. She knew this smell all too well. Blood.

None of these facts could be lost on the others, and looking among them, that much was plain. The Wolf-Warrior was the calmest of everyone, or as calm as one could be in the face of apparent slaughter. Stood in the same spot he'd crash landed, he glared up at the festering sky like their long awaited vendetta was soon to be meted out. Anyone would think he looked angry, rather than scared, but Peach knew better. Some people get angry when afraid, angry at the object of their discomfort, angry to even be in that situation, angry at themselves for being so weak as to feel fear of all things. Peach knew the feeling so intimately because she was like that herself. Always had been. Maybe always would be. And she'd seen that same trait reflected in her nephew, who managed somehow to be even worse than her.

And why not? Jaune had already witnessed his worst nightmare. What else was there to fear?

Peach stared at the Wolf a little longer, suspicious and fascinated, wanting at both times to hold him close and push him away, for being her nephew and for not. Was he a construct of Qrow's heart? Doubtful. Qrow's heart would have manifested Jaune as a child, more than likely. Ruby's heart? Plausible, but his personality was incredibly developed. Too much so for Ruby's perception of Jaune to accurately simulate, and then exaggerate. They hadn't been that close for very long. If such logic even applied to a person of her apparent bloodline.

Then, a more disturbing thought. Jaune's Alter.

It would absolute;y explain this highly developed persona. Jaune had used to be such an excitable, silly, happy boy… until Joy's death had taken those from him. Replaced now with a cold, hard outer shell, there to protect his unmended heart from further ruin. What was left of it which could be ruined, anyway. What else could the Wolf be but the perfect manifestation of that hard outer shell? That seemingly impenetrable armor? This had to be Jaune's Alter. The very thing she'd brought Jaune into her care in order to find. That, if she defeated him here and now, she could save her boy from years of psychological anguish.

And yet… he could not be Jaune's Alter.

The most obvious thing was a very distinct lack of Despair coming from him. Jaune's Alter would likely be in a state as bad as Qrow's, if not worse. Not only that, his aforementioned personality all be deconfirmed the possibility anyway. This was a product of Jaune's heart. This was the outer shell. The armor that was her boy's current state of mind. The purpose of armor meant to protect one's soft insides from wounds. To shield the flesh. To guard the heart.

Peach took a step toward him, her foot barely making a sound in the deep sand, but even so his cold blue eyes found hers. It brought back a memory. This tiny creature in her arms. Came out without a peep. Tiny eyes bluer than the sea. "What happened, Sir Wolf? Why must you fight the Shield Knight?"

He was silent for a moment. "It is difficult to explain."

"Try."

"If you intend to stay, your curiosity will be sated soon enough."

Peach rather suspected she'd only end up with more questions. "What's your plan?"

"To fight him all my strength."

"You cannot kill him. Please."

"I do not intend to kill him," he paused. "But if he assumes the form the young master takes in the gestation process, then my plan is simple. I must prevent him from weeping."

Gestation? That word brought on a ton of terrifying thoughts, all of which brought on even more terrifying questions. But as the Wolf said, she would soon see. "Prevent him from weeping?"

"When the master… or rather, when the knight is reborn, the first thing he will know is fear. And infants who know fear shall weep."

Peach swallowed. "Well, what does he fear?"

He turned his cold eyes back toward the sky. A beam of light passed over him, lingered for a moment, then moved away as if judging him beneath its interest. In his monster-deep voice, he said, "What doesn't a helpless child fear?"

Those words alone sent a chill up her back that not even the ice-cold around them, or the stink of blood, or the eldritch clouds could pull off. Peach had to take a moment to think on that, glancing at the moon as one of its beams passed over her, lingered, then left. That damn rock seemed to pulse like a still beating heart. She forced herself to look away, to try and banish the places her mind went. It would do her no good to get worked up more than she already was. Not when there were bigger worries close to hand.

She turned to Ruby and Neptune, and if they'd been in sorry states for most of this arduous journey, then they were the very picture of ruin now. The both of them were on their knees and holding each other, no doubt feeling pressed on by the weight of air pressure, the unreal volume of raw gravity pouring out of their vanished friend. Ruby clutched at her chest so hard that she tore the stitching on her corset, trying to breathe as steadily as could be managed, failing to settle her no doubt shaken heart. Neptune's eyes were squeezed shut as he held on to Ruby, no doubt at first to comfort her, but no doubt needing the comfort himself now. Such warmth they provided one another barely helped. They trembled like shaved kittens in the most murderous winter.

And the worst thing was, there was nothing Peach could do for them. Ask if they were alright? A stupid question. Take them and run away like the Wolf had suggested? In that time, Jaune could arrive and the Wolf may end up accidentally killing his own Host. Wouldn't that be a spectacular way to cap off his story? Such tragedies can and have happened, and Peach would kill herself before she allowed that.

She ambled over to them and kneeled down, her legs burning from the effort, her shoulder-bones feeling like old and broken hinges on a door. She put a hand on Neptune's shoulder. "Hey. Don't worry, you two. Whatever is going on, Jaune will recognize us. We'll all be going home soon. It'll be fine." Peach gave them the most confident smile she could. "It'll be fine." she repeated.

Neptune tried to smile, but in the end all he could do was nod. The best she'd get, most likely. She looked at the two with a strange degree of consideration. They were good kids, strong and resilient, excellent friends to Jaune… but that was all they were to her. She could not claim to actually care about them. They could perish here in this twisted world and Peach would have regrets, but little else. In the end, she was as selfish as she had always been. She could not change her nature. You had to protect your insides. You had to protect yourself from the world so nothing could hurt you. Even love for others could be dangerous.

Unsurprisingly, the only one who was enjoying herself in this period of quiet anticipation was the closest thing she'd ever had to a daughter, Cinder. She stood not far off, having climbed a mound of rubble as if that'd get her a closer look at the moon, to beckon for its attention. With her hands clasped beneath her chin, she had the look of a teenage girl awaiting the arrival of her date to the Prom. Her usual wry smirk had contorted into a disturbing grin, all white teeth. The way a skeleton smiled. Peach sighed. She knew Cinder was not evil, not truly. But that devil grin would make anyone think otherwise.

Peach approached her, legs burning from the gravitational pressure and the exhausting battle, her wounds decently healed by now, but hardly saving her from the lingering pain. She would have to visit Oobleck when she returned to the surface. They all would. If they survived. She stopped a few steps behind Cinder , opened her mouth to speak, but the girl was well ahead of her.

"I've seen this," Cinder said, so low as to seem like she was talking to herself instead. Maybe she was.

Peach blinked. "What?"

"In Neptune's heart. I felt it. This… shift. At first, I assumed my Overshadow was fading," Cinder's hair swayed side to side as she slowly shook her head. "How arrogant of me. It turns out my Overshadow had quite simply been… overshadowed." She giggled at that, like it was a naughty joke she'd been told not to repeat. "My influence, my power, my control over Neptune's psychological plane… utterly trounced by your green nephew. Incredible."

Peach almost gaped at this enlightening news. "Jaune Overshadowed? Why the hell didn't you tell me, Cinder?"

Conder spun around to face her, her face flushed with excitement, as if her date had finally arrived and was knocking at the door. "I wasn't sure myself! I mean, can you blame me?" Cinder looked up at the moon, utterly entranced by it, eerie light glistening in her golden pupils. "I fooled myself into thinking that I had simply released my Overshadow too early. Certainly no child could surpass my strength, not so untrained as he was. I was a fool!" Cinder did not look upset or even humbled by this realization of her limits, and instead she looked overjoyed, as if her date had pulled up in a limousine and spoiled that she'd been elected Prom Queen. "The truth was right in front of me the whole time. And now it is before us once again. This pressure, this power. It has to be him. Your nephew is truly blessed."

Peach felt like she tasted piss in her mouth at those words. "Nothing about this is a blessing."

But Cinder went on just as if Peach had agreed with her. She began pacing back and forth, clasped hands clutched to her mouth, unsettling giggles bubbling up. "It was just a hunch, I had no evidence beyond a feeling, but I was right! He's special! He is beyond anything I've ever seen. Can't you feel it? Can't you feel his fury?"

Peach wanted to deny it, but there would have been no point. She felt it all around her. Colder than hell, heavier than thunder, darkness pouring over the world as if Armageddon had come and God himself had judged all of humanity beyond salvation. Her legs were weak, and she heard Ruby let out a squeak of pain behind her just as the pressure came down stronger, like a giant boulder on one's back.

"We have to be ready to… to fight, Cinder." advised Peach, rather pointlessly. "It's possible that Jaune is in distress if he's outputting this much force. Who knows how dangerous he could be."

"Ahhh," Cinder moaned, just as if those very words were the exact pillow talk she needed to get her in the mood. She closed her eyes in bliss, hands clutching at her cheeks, her smile growing even wider somehow. "I know. Isn't this all just so romantic? What more could a girl ask for?"

Peach couldn;t help but snap at her. Just about ready to slap her across the face again. As she'd done many times. For good reasons, for bad reasons, sometimes for no reason at all. "Can you fucking take this seriously, Cinder? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Cinder returned fire with that incessant giggle. "What are you so upset about? You should be rejoicing!"

Peach let out a disbelieving breath. "Rejoicing?"

Cinder pointed up at the sky, and the moon pulsed as if it was responding to her acknowledgement. A ray of light fell over her, lingered. It did not move away. "Is not all of this your doing? Is not all of this the ultimate result of your actions all those years ago?"

Peach's anger melted away into crushing guilt, and she felt the need to turn away and run. She mustered up what little anger she could. "You think I wanted all of this? You think I set out to make my… to make Jaune into this?"

"But that's the truly beautiful thing about it! For all the people's lives you've purposely ruined, for all the pain you've wrought upon enemy and friend alike, how much more fitting could it be that the only person in the world you could not stand to hurt is the one you've hurt the worst of all? It is pure poetry!"

The moon started getting brighter, elevating from a ghost-silver to a pure, holistic white. Seemed as if it was agreeing with Cinder. The pressure was getting heavier now and Peach's knees felt like they might crack if she didn't kneel down, as if a giant hand was pressing down on her shoulders and she had only just enough strength to resist. For now.

Cinder was not even able to do that much, she forced her knees right away, yelping in pain alongside the children far off. Again, those creepy giggles came up that made Peach's spine shiver, which quickly evolved into cruel chuckles. Another addition of weight, the moon whiter than white, its rays seeming to leave a deadly hum in the air alongside the static-sounding rain, enhancing the stink of rotten blood.

Cinder clutched at her heart just like Ruby had, no doubt feeling that same squeezing agony. But she did not scream like the children did. She burst into raucous laughter. High, squealing, insane laughter as if this was all some elaborate game that had fallen into place precisely as she'd planned, and yet she couldn't believe she'd pulled it off. "Oh god, he's so powerful. I can't even stand. Unbelievable. He might actually kill us all!" She looked up at the sky, face sweaty, face constantly shifting from profound pleasure to horrible pain. "Look at what you have made, dear master, and celebrate! Rejoice to your heart's content! You truly are the scum of the earth to have birthed this beautiful monster!"

Peach wished to the very core of her soul that she could deny. That she could run away from all of this.

But Cinder wasn't wrong. Of course she wasn't. Peach knew in the deepest reaches of her being what she had done, why she had done it, who and how many she'd harmed. Now, she saw in full how her actions had destroyed the only person she loved more than herself. The moon was almost singing now, in celebration of some eldritch god's anticipated arrival, as a black dot emerged from the light and descended fast on the world, just like the Wolf had before. Her nephew, her baby, her love. Only a truly evil person can destroy even those they themselves love.

Cinder was right. Peach had made a monster. Two, actually. And out of her only apprentices.

Out of her only children.

The ground shuddered as the falling object landed somewhere beyond the rolling dunes. An earthly ripple spread across the dust, made the upturned earth tremble, the air quiver. If anyone was to escape, they would have to do so now.

Peach looked up at the giant wolf that was named Joy. It only made sense for Jaune's heart to manifest his mother in strange ways, so this was not hard to accept, so much as it was surreal to see how far the trauma had gone. Knowing that someone was screwed up was one thing, but to actually understand the depth of their disturbed mind was another challenge entirely. And this was not even the worst of it.

The children were astride the beast's giant neck now, soon to be carried off to safety. The Wolf had voiced that Peach should go with them as well, but she was ignoring his concerns by now. A strange turnout, that. She'd been frustrated with Jaune for not listening to her explicit commands, which were necessary to protect him, but here she was disregarding the only person who knew the true extent of this latest threat. It made her afraid just how much of herself was in her boy.

Cinder tilted her head toward her. Somewhat calmer after that whole spectacle of madness she'd displayed. Somewhat. "Do well not to get yourself killed, master."

"Aren't you upset that you won't get to see it? My own nephew tearing me limb from limb? I imagine you'd get a lot of pleasure out of that."

"That is regrettable, I admit." Cinder smirked, "Still, I am in no condition to fight, and as much as I love a fight, getting myself killed would be less than ideal at the moment."

"Fair enough," Peach nodded, a little sadly. "Protect the children with your life, Cinder. With your life, do you hear me?"

She nodded emphatically, just as if that was what she always dreamed of doing. Then her golden eyes turned to the Wolf with a spark in them. "And you give me a good show in return. You as well, Sir Wolf, I'm expecting great things from you."

The Wolf did not give her an answer or even a nod, he was still too focused on glaring the distance into submission.

"Miss Peach…" It was Ruby who sought her attention now, looking down at her with wet eyes. "Jaune won't really kill you, will you?"

Peach genuinely had no idea. The manifestations of his Heart World were a mystery even now. Sir Wolf and this giant wolf, the moon and this extensive Overshadowing, they were all just pieces to this elaborate puzzle. She could not say for certain what would happen. "I'll be back soon. With Jaune safe and secure, don't you worry."

Ruby nodded reluctantly and hugged Neptune's back to stay upright. He in turn opened his mouth to say something, but must have realized he had nothing to add, closing his eyes in admittance.

"Take them, Joy." commanded the Wolf, and his beast companion darted off into the distance, paws thump-thumping across the desert.

Then, it was just the two of them. Watching the distance for a short stretch of time. A fading gray trail left by the falling object hanging there, tempting their curiosity.

"You should have gone with them," said the Wolf.

"But I did not, and that is that. I must save the Shield Knight." Or at least, keep the Wolf from accidentally killing him. "I must save him."

The Wolf stared at her for a long moment. It felt so strange to see Jaune's face looking at her like that, contemplating her, suspecting her, as if he knew the secrets buried deep in her heart. "It would seem the Shield Knight is well loved."

She wondered what that could mean coming from the manifestation of Jaune's cold exterior. Did he know how much she loved him? Did he even care whether she loved him or not? Questions for another time. Peach only gave a weak chuckle.

They began to head to the landing point now, together, and it wasn't long before she caught a distant glimpse of their mark. It laid in a patch of sand, a standout shape amongst the sameness of the area. With each step toward it, Peach's legs felt heavier, going from confident steps, to occasional stumbles, to damn near digging herself into a rut as she dragged her feet. With every step, as her eyes began to make sense of the foreign object, inviting dread settled deeper into her heart, her very soul. She knew what it was from twenty strides away, but she only felt the full impact of it when she was less than five strides away.

The only sister she would ever have in this mad world. Joy.

She was sprawled on the ground, limbs awkwardly spread as if she were a doll flung carelessly to the floor. And keeping with that doll-like analogy, she was entirely naked, though without any of the distinguished features of femininity, such as her mamilla or vulva. It made an immediate kind of sense. An eight year old's mind likely had not seen nor cared for such details, not when his mother's face was what he recognized her by, and therefore the only part of her that was accurately replicated, almost creepily so. Her body seemed covered in a sheen of oily wet, as if she were a dying whale that washed up on the beach, its bodily oils leaking out of its rotting carcass.

Peach could hardly look into her face. Mostly because it was exactly how she last remembered it. Down to the most intricate detail. Eyes half-closed and drained of color, lips slightly parted, entirely unchanged. That same face she'd seen when she found her corpse on the beach, lying on top of Jaune as though even from beyond the grave she wanted to embrace him. One of two differences was that she was laying on her back.

The other difference was that her belly was swollen.

Protruding and belly button popped, round as the moon itself. Seeing it made Peach feel like her own guts had shifted inside her, that her own flesh had expanded in a way she still found unbelievable… but not unfamiliar. She had been there herself once, sixteen years and seven months ago.

"This is not the Shield Knight," said Peach to the Wolf.

"You are right."

"Where is he?"

The Wolf pointed at Joy's corpse. Specifically, at her swollen belly.

Peach stared at it in disbelief. He was… inside her? It took her a moment to even wrap her head around an idea that insane. But… It made a disgusting amount of sense. Even an eight year old would know that he comes from his mother, even if he does not understand how. Jaune had loved Joy as he'd loved the rest of his family. Losing her had destroyed his original personality, even if the desire to be with her was still there, unconsciously unwilling to let go. What more twisted way could he imagine being reunited with his mother than literally returning to the womb? Peach almost chuckled at the cruel irony of that natural desire, but only came out as a sob.

Who else's fault could this be but Victarine Peach's?

"Prepare yourself," warned the Wolf. "He comes."

Joy's swollen belly shifted, a small bulge poking up, like a finger pressing into plastic. Only a couple of them for a few moments. Then, they came faster, and were too prominent to be a tiny infant kicking. A monster infant, maybe. One that was ready to be born. The stink of blood was absolutely pungent now, she tasted the sick-sweet rust flavor running all over her tongue.

Who else's fault could it be, if not hers?

"Woman, step away." urged the Wolf.

The corpse's belly bumped a few more times. More regularly, as if whatever was inside, was searching for a way out, seeking freedom. But there was nowhere to be born from. No passage you come through. Not unless one was made.

One bulge of flesh stretched further than was realistic, as the skin started to tear, dark blood seeping out and running down Joy's stomach. Then with a nauseating, wet pop, like stepping suddenly into a puddle of mud, a long pale arm burst out the belly. Hand, forearm, elbow, and upper arm all, entirely too long to fit naturally inside her.

Peach had not noticed till then that she was crying. She felt the tears squeezing out of the corners of her eyes, peeling down her cheeks, hot and wet, and beyond her usual self-control.

The hand reached out and felt around, searching, palming at his mother's dead flesh, at the sifting sand, and finally latched onto a piece of solid ground, fingers digging into it for a grip. That was when the rest of Joy's belly began to rip, pulling apart as easily as a cloth with a hole in it, as the child slowly began to emerge. Blood ran everywhere. Seeping into the dust. The shoulder belonging to that arm emerged, then the top of the head, then it's other arm, retching wet sounds torturing Peach's fragile ears. Half its body was free now, it's back to her, shoulder-bones and spine protruding through wet skin. Soundlessly, it dragged itself out the rest of the way, first to its stomach, then to its knees. The body slick with blood, thin veils of birth caul, pale and red, melting off his body.

Who else's fault could it be?

It lay there in the dust, entirely naked, so still as to seem like it was born only to die moments later. Then it lifted one pale arm, so thin as to be nothing but skin and bone, placed it on the ground and began to push itself up, trembling all the way. Still, it was nothing if not persistent. It got to its knees, then to one foot, then the other, slowly rising until it could stand on wobbling legs. Not for long though. It tried to walk, but collapsed, falling right back down without an utterance. Like a newborn giraffe born knowing how to walk but not quite getting the trick of it right away.

Peach felt someone seize her shoulder, but she did not acknowledge them. Her eyes were unblinking, fearing to miss even the slightest thing.

The creature tried standing again, and this time did so more steadily. Now fully on its feet and knowing how they worked. It stood there for a moment, just looking off into the distance, hair as long as it's full body so wet that it stuck to his moist skin, over his shoulders, down his back. The creature tilted its head back, looked up, and at the same time the moon gave off a strange hum, growing brighter like it was answering some unheard call. The creature lifted its long thin arm, beckoning toward the moon with five trembling fingers, as if that was home and it was trying to go back, desperate for safety. Beckoning to its true parent from beyond the cosmos, searching for what it could not find, what it could not have. Not anymore.

Who else's fault?

The hand on her shoulder gripped harder now, but Peach shrugged it away and stepped forward, toward the revolting creature. A long beat of silence passed. Anything she did wouldn't matter, most likely. But she had to try. She had to try and reach her boy. "Jaune? Honey?"

Silence. He did not even register her existence.

Peach tried again, her heart demanding it. "It's me, baby. It's… Mommy."

The creature flinched, just as if those had been the very words to put some charge into his batteries, then slowly turned to look to face her.

Peach wished to the devil himself that he hadn't.

Jaune's face. Once young and smooth and taking the shape of the man he'd later become, was now anything but. It was greatly malnourished, the cheeks sunken, clinging to his jaws. His eyes were gone, replaced with pitch black sockets, which were wider than they were meant to be. Looked torn, as if he had ripped the flesh around his face just to pull the eyes out. And done so successfully. The evidence was there, as the many strands of optic nerve hung out of the sockets, hanging down his face like wilted white whiskers made of the softest kind of flesh. The image almost made it seem like he was in a permanent state of crying. His head twitched upon looking at her, like a puppet that had not been tended to in years and had been pulled out for show, now rattling and trembling as the joints and limbs tried to remember how to work.

All entirely too much for Peach's mind. This could not be what she was seeing. This could not be real. The tears should have obscured the image, but they did nothing to shield her from the truth. Nothing could.

"Baby?" Peach wept, begging, reaching toward him.

The creature seemed to gasp, taking a fearful step back, quite as if Peach was the horrible, disgusting abomination here. If only he knew how right he was. Only then did Peach see something she had not noticed before. A long tube of flesh in Jaune's stomach, poked with red and blue veins, big enough to fill a large part of Jaune's stomach. It hung from there, stretched, folded, leading back to where he had emerged. Into the gaping black pit that was his mother's stomach. Her womb.

The umbilical cord. Newly attached.

Peach began to laugh then, she laughed just like Cinder had. Her tears only increased. Jaune only seemed to become more afraid of her, backing away even more, scared of her, disturbed by her, disgusted with her, as if all of this was her fault.

Who else's fault could it be?

Peach truly was despicable. She had destroyed the only two people in this world she could be sure to have ever loved. Her sister.

And her own son.

She never should have come. The Wolf should never have allowed it. And even now, he wondered what had made him do so.

The loving woman had, sensibly, completely lost her sense. She'd collapsed onto her knees, eyes wide with newly awakened horror, tears spilling, laughing like there was nothing left in her. She could hardly be blamed for that. No one one but the Wolf could look upon the Orphan, even if this form was different to the one he was familiar with. That was the nature of things. Naked eyes would only be driven mad.

The Wolf came up behind the woman and touched her head. "Let the mercy of sleep take you."

The woman stopped crying and laughing immediately, let out a tiny whimper, and slumped forward. The Wolf caught her, wondering now what to do with her. He looked at the Orphan, who watched the woman with a strange fixation, a fascination, as if it was trying to piece together where he had seen her before.

There were questions enough, with the Wolf wondering how the Shield Knight could have taken the young master's true form. Such a thing was not possible, as he understood it. Not without considering the idea that they were connected somehow. But connected how? And for what purpose?

No time to wonder. It would not be long before the Orphan began to cry, and once that happened, this woman would not be safe. The Wolf would not be able to protect her.

So, gently, he laid her down. Then turned to the Orphan, who hadn't even bothered to return that look. It was the strangest kind of duality, the two of them. One the manifestation of the young master's soft flesh, the other the armor meant to protect him. That was the order of their lives, of their world. But when the flesh tried to reach the outside, it was exposed to possible harm, to the reopening of old wounds. Under no circumstance could this be permitted.

So it was with some pity, but utter necessity, that the Wolf punched the orphaned newborn as hard as he could in the jaw… and sent him flying away. Fast across the dusty wilds, miles a second, the twisted bodies of son and mother turning over and over in the air. The Wolf wasted no time keeping pace with him, mad dashing straight away, the air screaming in his ears. He saw the Orphan start to descend, saw it crash land, bounce, then leave a rut in the ground as it flopped away and to a crumpled heap. It wasn't as far enough as the Wolf needed it to be, but it would have to suffice. He just had to end this quickly.

He called for Joy to return and take the glasses woman to her remaining companions though. Just in case things did not end quickly.

The Orphan crawled to standing, cord still attached to his Mother's lifeless corpse, because of course it could not be that easy. It did not seem bothered by the blow, even though a portion of it's skull was caved in now. Such was the nature of the flesh to be easily wounded. But it looked at the Wolf with utter shock. As if he had been betrayed somehow. It looked at him with fear. It's lips began to tremble. And wails of distress were not far behind.

It tilted its head back and unleashed a wail so powerful that the Wolf felt his eardrums rupture, felt warm blood began to ooze out of them. He could not hear anymore, and yet it was like that did not matter to the Orphan. He still heard its horrified weeping ringing inside his skull, making his brain quiver in untold fear. There were ripples in the air around the creature, a crack had formed in the moon, and that crack began to ooze blood.

The Orphan was afraid now. Afraid for its life. It would fight to save itself.

The Wolf looked up at the moon and saw that it was in it's over half-state, even if the blood ocean was now starting to pour into this desert wild. He might have smiled at his good fortune any other time, but a little more than half-power was not enough to tame the Orphan. Not without a generous amount of luck. But what choice did he have? It was his purpose to tame its rages, and the Wolf did not question his purpose.

Or, at least, he hadn't. Until he'd met the Princess.

The Wolf banished those thoughts and raised his hands to the sky, closed his hands around a newly materialized handle. He felt a new and familiar power course through him as he brought his tool level to his face, looked into the bright white blade, emitting a cool frost, cold as winter, white smoke curling off the blade. A weapon that very much suited him. The Holy Sword of Moonlight. Crocea Mors.

The Wolf looked at the Orphan, who screamed its anguish and defiance against the world, and he summoned upon the strongest will he could. He eyed that long cable of newborn flesh, tethering the knight to the corpse, would keep them together forever if no one intervened.

It was the Wolf's purpose to cut that Cord. To tear apart mother and son with his own hands and keep them apart.

Until the day the young master could do so on his own.

Sorry it took me a while to update, Still no laptop yet. But at least this chapter wasn't too long. Later.

ISA