Cinder woke with a start.
She pushed herself up to sit atop her cot, raising a hand automatically to give herself light. But no flame sprang from her palm, and the darkness continued to seep around her like ink in water.
She listened. Silence reigned supreme in the tunnels except for the odd pebble falling from the ceiling or the small lizards slithering about in search of unsuspecting prey. The busy sounds of Haven above rarely reached this far underground during daylight. At night, it was hardly possible, even if Cinder sometimes thought she heard boots just above the place she slept.
An hour seemed to pass before Cinder felt secure enough to lower her hand. There was nothing in the darkness except the shadows of her paranoia. No one knew of this place but her. She was safe. She was-
A tendril shot out of the darkness. Cinder had but a second to stare as it wrapped around her wrist, before it pulled her violently from her cot.
A scream rose unbidden from her throat as she was dragged along the rocky ground. She dug in her feet and produced an obsidian dagger in her free hand, but another tendril swatted it out of her grip before it coiled around the full length of her arm. The blade clattered uselessly on the ground. More and more tendrils came whipping at her, seizing her limbs until all she could do was endure it as they pulled her deeper and deeper into the shadows.
When the movement finally stopped, she was hoisted roughly onto her knees. The Seer forced her to lift her head with a tendril under her chin, but when the blurriness cleared from her vision, it was Salem she saw standing over her, crimson eyes burning balefully amidst the black.
"You thought you could hide from me here, Cinder? The hiding place I showed you?" Salem's voice pierced her mind like an ice dagger. "You thought you could hide from me anywhere?"
"I wasn't hiding!" Cinder exclaimed in a shaky breath. "Not from you, Mistress. I-"
"I've had enough of your lies. Keep them to yourself."
A tendril wrapped around Cinder's neck, but it was Salem's hand she felt squeezing her throat, cold and bony, draining the life out of her.
"You disappointed me yet again, Cinder. The Relic is in enemy hands. Tyrian is dead. And Oz – you were so proud when you took the initiative to capture him – is loose upon the world once more. Do you suppose all that is my fault? I did put my trust in you, after all."
"No, Mistress," Cinder replied breathlessly. "It's mine."
"That is right. It is your fault, Cinder. But all is well, I can forgive failure easily enough. You should know so by now." Salem's mouth warped into a snarl. "But open defiance-"
The spectral hand around Cinder's throat tightened into a vice grip, cutting the air from her lungs. The bladed tip of a tendril slithered up between Cinder's eyes and pressed into her forehead, slicing through her Aura as if it were paper and breaking her skin. Warm blood trickled down the bridge of her nose.
"I told you not to kill the girl," Salem said, her teeth flashing at the corners of her lips.
Cinder gasped for air. "She's not dead-"
"Through a stroke of luck, or else we wouldn't be talking!" Salem's voice struck her like a thunderbolt. "Tell me, Cinder, when you plunged your blade through her stomach, was it me you were trying to sabotage," she said, "or was it yourself?"
The tendrils holding Cinder slackened at once. She slipped free and braced herself limply against the ground, shaking so badly as to almost be convulsing. She held herself there, feeling Salem's eyes on her, the silence closing on her like a coffin.
When Cinder found her breath again, she opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. Tears joined the blood on her face.
"You don't know, do you? Why, I am beginning to suspect there was no reason at all why you did it," Salem said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Just a scared little girl, slave to her own instincts. Just like I found you. All the choice in the world, thrown away because you can't help yourself." She smiled. "But that is what you are. Human. How sad, that you thought yourself so special."
Trembling, Cinder pushed herself onto her knees again and looked up at Salem.
"Mistress," she implored, "tell me how I can earn your forgiveness."
An eternity passed before Salem answered.
"You can't."
The next instant, she was gone. The Seer lay on the rocks of the underground tunnels, an empty shell split in half amid a tangle of lifeless tendrils.
And Cinder Fall found herself, once again, alone in the darkness.
"'s a wonder to behold, ain't it?"
Oscar could only reply to the old man with a nod. He knew it was bad manners, but he was just too stunned to make any words. The longer he stared, the more speechless he felt. He'd never have imagined a tree as big as this one could grow in a big city like Haven. Heck, he was pretty sure that wasn't possible even back home, and there were some impressive trees across the lands around the farm.
"Yup." The old man chuckled. "Couldn't speak much myself either, first time I saw it."
Oscar wrenched his gaze away from the tree. "I'm sorry," he said. "Yeah, it's really something. Do you know how long ago they planted it?"
"How long ago they planted it?" The old man's eyebrows shot right up. "Boy, you don't watch the news much, do you?"
Blushing, Oscar shook his head. "Not very often, Mister, I'm afraid."
"Hmm. Well, you at least know about that big Grimm crisis happened here in the city about some, ah, three months ago?"
"Oh, yes! I heard about that," Oscar said. It was all everyone had talked about for weeks, even in the countryside.
"Welp, it wasn't just the Grimm that were causing havoc that day, mind you. There was this huge glowing snake, ya see, and it was flying everywhere, destroying property left and right. Left my nephew's shop all covered in vines, he couldn't get in for weeks 'til the fire department bothered to show up and cut 'em up for him. They did a shoddy job of it, too. Gah, he's still finding vines in places."
The old man scratched his chin, grumbling under his breath. Oscar was starting to think he wasn't all that well mentally, though he didn't say anything like that out loud. His aunt would kill him.
"Anyway, those Hunt girls showed up and took care of it, yeah?" the old man said. "And after they were done, there was some weird stuff falling all over the city. Don't ask me to explain, I didn't see it for myself. These old bones were busy being evacuated. Anyhow, they skipped town, and next morning, the tree just sprouted up in the middle of this here square."
"Wait." Oscar glanced at the tree, as if he'd somehow been mistaken about how big it was until now. But no, it was just as huge as it had been when he first looked at it. "Do you mean that this thing grew this big all in a day?"
"Less than." The old man smiled. "Wrap your head around that!"
Oscar couldn't. He supposed this was the sort of thing that was expected these days. His aunt and uncle talked all the time about how everything was different now – maybe this was just one of those things. Though truthfully, he had been so young when the Breach of Vale happened, he didn't really remember how the world was before.
Still, there was something strange about this tree – stranger than just its location and how quickly it had grown. As Oscar squinted at its leaves high above, he could swear they were changing colors with the swaying of the wind, and its bark seemed to glow almost translucent.
He took a step forward without meaning to and stopped, startled.
"Go ahead. People say if you touch its trunk, it gives you good luck," the old man said. "Myself, I think that's probably nonsense, but what's the harm, eh? Might as well take the chance now, before the bigshots show up to make a profit off of it. You mark my words, it's gonna happen sooner than you think."
Oscar wasn't really listening anymore. His feet were moving on their own, taking him closer to the center of the square where the tree rose. Something about it was drawing him in. He couldn't take his eyes off it, much less stop walking towards it.
He stopped before the tree and slowly lifted a hand. The tip of his fingers tingled, just shy of the bark so radiant. His heart beat fast inside his chest – but it wasn't just his heart. There was something new inside him, something he had never known but felt almost familiar somehow, and it pulled him towards the tree, to finally touch it-
"Oscar!" His uncle's voice snapped him from his trance. "Come on, boy, we're going to be late!"
Oscar looked over his shoulder, to where his uncle was shouting at him from the sidewalk. He glanced back at the tree. That strange feeling in his chest was gone. Suddenly, he felt very anxious.
He couldn't have walked away faster.
"What were you doing just staring at that tree?" his uncle asked. "You were supposed to be waiting for me at the car when I was done with our errands. We leave any later and we won't get back home in time for dinner. Your aunt won't let us hear the end of it then!"
"I'm sorry, uncle. The nice old man said that tree gives good luck," Oscar said. "I thought we could use it at the farm."
"That's nice, Oscar, but what have I told you? We don't need luck. Diligence, that's all we need, and each other. We'll take the good luck when it comes around."
Oscar bowed his head, abashed. "Yes, sir."
His uncle patted his back and started to lead him away. Oscar frowned. The touch of his hand felt strange.
"Uncle, when was the last time you saw a doctor?"
"A doctor? I don't know – a year ago, two?" His uncle squinted at him. "Why do you ask?"
"I-I don't know," Oscar said, rubbing his forehead. "I just got lost in my head thinking about stuff, that's all."
"Well, you don't have to worry about me, Oscar. I'm fit as a fiddle."
Oscar smiled and nodded. Something still felt off to him, but he told himself to ignore it. Everything was fine. Everything would continue to be fine.
He still felt the pull of the tree behind him as they drove away from the city.
"We have arrived, sir. A moment, please."
Leo tapped his fingers on the inside of the car door. The dark-tinted bulletproof windows made it impossible to see where they were stopping, and the valet got out too fast for him to catch a glimpse. For a minute Leo was left alone inside the foreign car, sinking deeper and deeper into the backseat as beads of sweat rolled down his neck.
He ought not to be so nervous. This was an invitation from a friend, made to him in his time of need. There was nothing for him to be wary of here. But when had that ever made a difference before? Fear always got the best of him, even at his most lucid. It was the reason he was in this predicament now.
The valet opened the door for him and stepped out of the way. When Leo got out, he was surprised to find himself in a private garage, a handful of other top-of-the-line car models parked inside atop prestigious platforms. Theodore had never mentioned a love of cars before.
"Right this way, sir," the valet said, ushering him through a door and a short set of stairs. At the end, they came into a large living space within a greater house. Memories flooded Leo's brain as he was guided through the luxurious rooms and hallways. He had been in this house before several times, though not once in perhaps the last ten years.
Eventually, they arrived at a room he recalled most vividly. A bar counter stood in one corner, filled with glasses and beverages from so many places, and in the center was a round table with two cushioned stools. A pair of large glass doors comprised the back of the room, which opened into a wooden high balcony that oversaw the ocean beyond. The doors were closed now, but Leo could still smell the salt in the air and hear the faint crashing of the waves in the distance.
Theodore was staring out at the ocean when Leo came in, though he soon turned to face him. He nodded to the valet, who bowed his head and quickly left them. Then they were alone, Theodore staring at him, an empty glass held in one hand. Leo hid his sweaty hands behind his back.
"Leonardo." Theodore cracked a smile. "Good to see you again, old friend. Please sit. Scotch?"
Leo dropped himself onto one of the stools, swallowing a sigh. "I'll accept that, yes. It's good to see you too, my friend."
"I would imagine so." Theodore chuckled and went to the bar. He grabbed another cup and popped open a bottle. "So, how's house arrest treating you?"
Leo gulped. So they were getting right to it. "Good. It's inconvenient, enough so that I find myself very irritable more often than not," he said. "But it's better than the alternative."
Certainly better than I deserve, he thought as well, though he did not say it out loud. If he lingered on that too long, the smell of smoke and fire would take hold of his nose again, and that was far too unsettling.
"I cannot argue with that." Finished with pouring their drinks, Theodore sat down and slid Leo's glass across the table to him. He picked up his own glass and took a sip, before he used it to gesture around the room. "I thought you'd remark on the locale, Leo. You do remember, yes?"
"Judge Hawthorne. This is his house, yes." Leo scratched at his beard. "Or it was his house, before he retired. I believe he moved up north to be closer to his children. Argus, if I'm not mistaken?"
"Fitting choice for a cold bastard," Theodore said, a smirk on his lips. "I bought the place from him a couple years back. I was looking for a place in Mistral and, well… You know I have a long memory, and a sense of humor.."
Leo chuckled politely. "Certainly." He hadn't sipped the scotch yet, his mouth too dry, but holding the cold glass in his hands helped somewhat.
"This is where we first met, remember? All those years ago." Theodore leaned back and looked off towards the ocean. "I was just a page of, what, nineteen or twenty years, but you were already an established politician and on the rise. And a dinosaur. I swear you've been this old for as long as I've known you."
"Now, now, I'm only a decade or so older than you." Leo allowed himself a chuckle. "It's the time in office that'll have that effect on you."
"Don't I know it," Theodore said. "Anyway, I remember I was accompanying the then Vacuan Council representative on some diplomatic visit. There was some social gathering held here afterward, and I was standing right there-" he pointed at a spot in the room- "when I overheard the good judge conversing with someone, and he said the most disparaging thing about Vacuans. I don't remember what exactly he said anymore, but it sent me into a righteous fury. You remember what I said to him?"
"I believe you told him to 'stick a snake down his throat', and 'snort sand'," Leo said, smiling fondly. "He wasn't very happy about that."
"Neither was my boss. Talking to a foreign ally like that? I was quite sure I was going to be sacked right then and there," Theodore said. "But then you interfered. You reprimanded Hawthorne in front of his guests, then convinced my boss to go easy on me. That was the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me."
"Ah, well. I couldn't very well let a young man's career go to the trash when it had barely started," Leo said, rubbing his neck. "It was all I could do."
Theodore hummed. He set his glass on the table and leaned his elbows on it, peering at Leo with sharp, warm eyes. A wave crashed against the cliffs below the house.
"Ironwood wants to lock you up, Leo. For good, in a dark hole if possible, away from everyone," Theodore said, the table rumbling with the timbre of his voice. "And that's what he considers merciful."
"Y-yes. I – he has made me aware of that, yes." Leo tried to open up his collar, but his fingers kept slipping on the buttons. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because your replacement on the Council agrees with him. You put great shame on your country – he has to show that Mistral is still an ally to be trusted," Theodore said. "Vale is undecided. She has agreed to honor Peter's support of Branwen as Ozpin's successor, but for all other matters, they are playing it safe. A decision will have to be made soon. You don't have much time, my friend."
Leo nodded shakily. "And where do you land on this?"
"I think you are a good man that committed a series of gravely damaging actions out of fear and self-preservation. Your current form of incarceration, and your own guilt – I can see it on your face – are enough," Theodore said. "I think I can convince Vale to side with me, and then we can strike a compromise with Ironwood. But I cannot do that without your help."
"My help?" Leo felt very cold all of a sudden, and much too small against the sprawling horizon beside him. "I – I have said everything I could say! There is nothing more I know. What else am I supposed to do?"
"Not everything, Leonardo." Theodore shook his head. "We both know it. You couldn't have devised that explosive on your own, much less snuck inside such a tightly guarded meeting. You had help."
"From Cinder Fall!" Leo exclaimed. "And – and Tyrian Callows!"
"No, I don't think so. I think you had help from someone else," Theodore said. "I also suspect Cinder Fall didn't escape prison solely because of the Grimm. The same person facilitated her escape."
"I – I don't know anything about that."
Theodore's eyes narrowed. "Salem had a third agent in the mix. They never showed themselves, and they are still out there, doing her bidding. Only you, Leonardo, can identify them."
Leo covered his face with his hands. He closed his eyes, and saw tendrils of dark flesh and bone-white blades closing all around him. When he opened them, they weren't there, only the palms of hands.
"If you won't do it for yourself, Leo, do it because it's right. Do it for Peter," Theodore said. "I know you can do it. Be the man who saved a young man's career when no one else would stand up for him."
Leo rubbed his eyes. Yes. He couldn't be afraid forever. He had already brought so much pain into the world. He needed to make it right. For once in his life, he needed to do the hard thing.
"Okay. I'll do it. I'll tell you everything."
Theodore stared at him for a moment, his eyes unflinching. "Good, good." He got up and went to look out the glass doors, taking his drink with him.
Leo lowered his hands and stared at the table, a maddened sort of relief filling him up. He almost felt like he could float away. Grabbing his glass, he brought it up to lips and downed the scotch in one go.
As the drink burned in his throat, his eyes chanced on the spot Theodore had pointed to earlier. He frowned.
"That wasn't how it happened," he said under his breath, not looking at Theodore.
"Whatever do you mean, old friend?"
"We met that night. But that wasn't how it happened," Leo muttered. "I didn't talk to your boss then. I watched, and said nothing. It wasn't until the next day that I talked to him in private. And Hawthorne…" He shuddered. "I never said a word about it to him."
"Hmm. That doesn't sound quite as noble, now does it? But it does sound much more like you, indeed," Theodore said, still at the doors. "I thought that might be the case when I heard the stories. Of course, you wouldn't want to correct anyone peddling the wrong tale, now would you."
The alcohol and the relief curdled in Leo's stomach.
Suddenly, the room around him was gone. Four walls of nondescript gray surrounded him. A square metal table lay before him, cold and sterile. The glass doors had vanished, as well as the ocean, and the scent of salt in the air.
"Y-you…" Leo stared forward, trembling. "H-how…?"
"Technology is such a frightening thing these days," Theodore spoke behind him, but it wasn't his voice anymore. It was the voice of another man he knew. "We can't even trust our own surroundings."
The cold barrel of a gun touched the back of his head. Behind him, he heard a click.
And that is a wrap on The Hunt: Maiden's Wrath, and Phase 2! This was a wild ride from start to finish. Between juggling so many characters and the high-stakes nature of much of the story, I think this was easily the biggest challenge I've had in writing a fic thus far – which only makes it more satisfying to have the whole thing in your hands, at last.
Before I get to my thoughts on the story, I'd like to once again thank my betas Alarnis and Fel, who made this story so much better than it would have been were I editing it on my own. Cheers! I'd also like to thank/blame my friends in the Qrow's Nest for convincing me to not scrap Blake confronting Tyrian with the best line in the whole RSU yet: "It's Britney, bitch". (Additional thanks to Bryon for supplying 'Britney Spearmint'.)
And now for the thoughts! I won't be going over everything, because if I did, I'd be increasing this story's word count by 10%. I'll do it by character/storyline.
Maidens and Ozpin: I'm not a stranger to reworking canon lore and mechanics to better fit the stories I want to tell, but I think this fic is where I did it the most, especially with this. The most obvious difference of course is that we have just the one Maiden here, rather than four like in canon. Not only does that work better for the story I want to tell going forward with Pyrrha and Oz, I also didn't want to have to introduce new characters just to fit those roles, or to force pre-existing characters (like Raven) into them. We're going into the final Phase here, and I already have a list of Relics to check off, there's only so much story to go around.
The relationship between the Maiden and Oz is also different from canon, what with their powers being intrinsically linked. That is also to serve the story going forward. But that's all I'll say on that matter so as to not risk slipping any spoilers like Zwei being the Relic of Destruction. (oops)
On a related note, I absolutely loved writing Amber for this. Ah, the joys of writing an OC that's not technically an OC. I'll miss her, even if she's not truly gone.
Yang: talk about differences to canon! Yang still loses her arm, but under very different circumstances. Not gonna lie, this was a plot point I was sorta nervous about. I think if someone came up to me and said "Hey, in my fic, I'm gonna have BLAKE cut Yang's arm off!", my response would be something between "bold, very bold" and "yikeroos". So I was very careful to write that as tastefully as I could regarding all characters involved. Hopefully I did a good job of that.
I was also careful about how I wrote Yang's recovery. Canon had the benefit of having a big time-skip and a whole volume where she wasn't involved in any major action. I didn't. My main concern was figuring out how to keep her involved in the main storyline after her injury without trivializing it. Also, not ending the story with her in a place where's she totally fine again, because wow that would have sucked. Yang's still got a long journey ahead of her.
I also didn't want to frame her whole plot line around her relationship with Weiss. Hey, that's officially a thing now! I toyed with the idea of writing that pairing for a long time, but it wasn't until I wrote the night club chapter of Tales that I decided to do it for real, and Maiden's Wrath was the time to do it.
(Alarnis would like to claim he converted me into a Freezerburn addict. That's only partly true. I was halfway there already when I read Grimm Tide. Have you guys read Grimm Tide? Y'all should read Grimm Tide.)
Penny: writing Penny often has the uncanny effect of making me teary-eyed, especially Penny dialogue. This has nothing to do with canon, or my massive ego. I think she's just too pure.
Not much of an insightful observation, huh? I guess I'll use this space to say that Winter is absolutely the MVP of this fic despite being in like 1% of it. Fight me in the back alley if you dare to disagree. You'll probably win.
Cinder: grrr I HATE CINDER AND I ESPECIALLY HATE WRITING HER!
…
(did I fool anyone?)
On a serious note, the first The Hunt is maybe my least favorite story in the series so far, due to a number of factors which I won't delve into right now. The main one, however, is Cinder. Looking back, I did not write her very well – she was very one-dimensional, almost cartoonishly evil, and her motivations weren't very clear. (I'm not saying this just to self-roast myself, I promise)
Now, I always knew Cinder was behind Summer's death. I knew they had a close relationship, and I knew that was going to be a major driving force in her and Ruby's storyline throughout the whole series, starting with The Hunt 2.
But… the groundwork wasn't there. The Hunt ended, and what did we know about Cinder except that she used to be a Beacon agent? Who is she even? Ruby is supposed to feel all sorts of conflicting emotions when she finds out the truth, but why should she? I was beginning to realize I was going to have to do all that set-up before The Hunt 2. But how, where?!
Tales from the Hunt Tower, baybee, that's where. I don't remember if I had the idea for the main story first, or the Cinder chapters, but they were perfect for each other. I had found my solution. The RSU (and really the entirety of the human race, when you think about it) was saved.
The moral of the story is: it's never too late to course-correct. And: Tales was the secret Cinder fic of Phase 2. Gotcha, bitches.
And with that, I think I've covered everything I wanted to talk about regarding this story. I don't think anything else happened that was super important?
…
Oh right, Jaune fuccin died.
(that was a joke, DON'T fight me in the back alley about it)
Jaune: so yes, Jaune is dead. I wish I could recall since when exactly I planned to do this. I'm pretty sure I knew by some point during The Hunt. Definitely by Scattered Petals at the latest, because I had the idea for Tales by then, and a major reason why I wanted to do that fic is I wanted him to have more screentime with the rest of the team before he made his exit.
So yes, in a way, Tales was also a stealth Jaune fic. Gotcha again, bitches.
That isn't to say I didn't debate about whether to actually kill him or not. I did until the point I started writing this fic. But I think I always knew. The story goes where it wants to go, sometimes all you can do is follow it.
I know some people liked what I did with Jaune in this story, while others very much did not, which was not surprising. I'd have to have been pretty clueless to expect otherwise. It's hard to find a main character death in fiction, regardless of quality, that got a universally positive or negative reception. That's kinda par for the course.
Anyway, that's mostly to say that I am happy with what I wrote. If you didn't, that's okay! I'll be very happy if you keep following the story after this, and if you choose not to, thank you for sticking with it this far!
One last thing about Jaune: I've had a few people ask if there's a chance I'll bring him back, and I'll just be very straightforward and give you a blanket 'no'. Reviving characters generally cheapens things, and I like to keep things expensive. That doesn't mean Jaune's story in the RSU is over, though. Who knows, we might even see him again someday.
*wink wink*
That's it for my thoughts!
So, Phase 2 is over, and Phase 3 is next. However, it might be a while 'til the next installment of the RSU. There are a couple other projects I want to bite my teeth into before I dive back in. Don't worry, this isn't an official hiatus, just a lil' break for me to recharge my creative juices. This fic was a doozy.
Until then!
- Zeroan
PS: Phase 3 will start with a story following a character we have met before, but who hasn't been a titular character yet (including team-ups). Oooh, I wonder who that could be?