Arslan woke up to the overwhelming smell of blood. She shot up in bed, looking around for the source of the danger induced scent. But as she woke, the scent retreated, fleeing with her drowsiness. As though it were from but a dream. Arslan let her breathing calm down, relaxing that the scent was just a hold over from a dream forgotten. She relaxed, letting out a relieved sigh.
"Nothing but a dream." Arslan whispered as to not wake the rest of her team. It was early for them anyway. The sun was just starting to poke it's way into the world, and the dark still owned the sky. Arslan quietly slipped out of bed, walking over to the window. She stepped over the unmoving body that had fallen from the ledge and onto the ground. The lioness sighed as she took in the night scene. It was peaceful. Cold, hidden, but peaceful.
Arslan blinked, looking down at the stone still body below her. Jaune was one the ground, looking like he had fallen asleep at the window and fell from it. Two, Jaune did not appear to be breathing. He was a still as a corpse, and his pale complexion made him look more like one when he was awake than most. But asleep? He was death itself, silent and unmoving. A corpse that walked.
A Shabyth. The persistent word came yet again unbidden. Arslan shook her head, leaning down to get a closer look at the ranger. His face was unchanging, looking peaceful in his sleep. Arslan watched him for a moment before she realised something. Number two: Jaune did not appear to be breathing. That was bad.
Arslan fell to a knee, pressing two fingers at the blonde's neck. She couldn't actually feel a pulse for that matter. Oh no. Arslan shot up, her mind spinning.
Jaune was dead. Her fellow student, who she felt at least a little bit responsible for. He was fine last night. A little insomniac? Sure, but not on the brink of death. At least he didn't seem on the brink of death. Arslan felt like she was spinning. She was not prepared for this at all. The death of a fellow student? The death of a man? That was not something she thought she could experience just yet.
Arslan stood, breathing in short gasps. Oh god, it felt like she was falling and spinning and being crushed all at once. She could feel her own heart in her ears, pumping relentlessly. It was getting harder to breath, the air she took in felt like it came from a furnace. She gave a dry gulp, her eyes unfocusing. Her mind was running too fast, the world was moving too fast. Everything was happening too fast. Her thoughts, her breath, her pulse. Arslan knew what was happening.
Breath. Came the voice of her father. Hold your breath for a moment. Breath. Slow and steady. Arslan struggled, but managed to hold her breath. The command of her body shocked some form of control back into her.
She marched, almost robotically to her bed. "Rheese." She said, shaking the skater. "Rheese, wake up."
"We have a problem."
Rheese grumbled, having been rudely awakened at least a half hour earlier than usual. "Whuuu~?" The green haired groaned, blearily looking up at her leader. "What is it, ars?" As Rheese regained her attentiveness, she saw that Arslan did not look good. She was sweating and shaky. Her eyes were wide, and he breath was in a kind of heaving shortness. Oh.
She was having a panic attack. "Arslan, what's wrong?" Rheese said, suddenly much more serious. Sleep could wait for this.
"I think Jaune's dead." Arslan managed to get out. Rheese blinked, almost disbelieving at the words. Rheese flung her covering off of her, flying to her feet.
"I'm sorry, whAT?!" She ejaculated, shocked at what had just come out of her leaders mouth. She instantly covered it, hoping that her male teammates did not wake. "Dead, you say?" was the next hushed whisper that came. Arslan nodded, turning to jaune's body on the floor. Rheese tentatively walked over, tiptoeing over to the body. She looked down at the pale ranger.
"He looks so still." She said quietly. She moved her foot, tapping Jaune's face. His head rolled over to the side with a limp flop.
Rheese nodded. "Well, at least rigor mortis hasn't set in yet." She noted, giving a nod to Jaune's limp head.
"Rheese!" Arslan hissed, pulling her away. "You can't just do that!" She scolded, pushing them into a huddle.
Rheese tilted her head. "Why not? He doesn't care." She asked innocently.
Arslan gaped at her teammate. "He's dead, Rheese! Dead!" She gasped, still in a hushed tone to avoid waking anyone, or causing a panic. Rheese nodded.
"That's my point. He doesn't care. He's dead."
Arslan went bug eyed at Rheese's comment. "Rheese please…" Arslan near sobbed, burying her head in her hands. "There is a body in our room. What are we going to do about this?"
"I dunno. Does he have next of kin? Someone we can call? Family?" The skater asked. Arslan shrugged.
"I have no idea. He doesn't have a last name, so I assume no?" She guessed. If he didn't have a last name, if he was a Thrys, unwanted child, he wouldn't have a family, would he? He wouldn't.
That thought made Arslan sadder than she thought it would. That he might have died without anyone ever actually loving him. Without having ever been held by the warmth of a mother. Without having ever laughed with a father.
Without ever experiencing such a sacred feeling that was family. It saddened Arslan.
"Have you checked him with your semblance?" Rheese asked. Arslan shook her head. "I have not. That's actually a good idea." The lioness admitted. She closed here eyes, focusing her semblance.
It pinged, showing Arslan everyone in a several meter radius. The two people, an old man and a much younger woman, were in the room next to them. Ew. Nadir was in his corner, his lighter grey a stark comparison to Bolin's much darker Aura.
Jaunes unique and alien yellow was not there. Arslan took in a deep panicked breath from her nose, and pushed her aura again. She frantically stared at the body where Jaune laid. There was no sign of his yellow hue to be found.
"Yes. His soul is not there."
Rheese blinked again. "How do you know. His aura is not there?" She asked. Arslan nodded. "He's not glowing yellow, so yes." She gulped. "Jaune's aura is not there."
"Wait, I thought your semblance shows things as black and white?" Rheese asked, questioning Arslan's newly presented information. It contradicted what the skater knew about her leader's semblance. It, in every instance Arslan had described to her, had shown the world in black and white. Shades of grey.
"It does. But Jaune is yellow." Arslan said, frowning as she thought about the strange exception. "I don't know why, or how, but Jaune has color. He spills and leaks and glows this yellow hue."
Reese nodded. "Weird." She said after a moment. Arslan agreed with her.
"Yeah. Weird."
"What's weird now?" A voice came from behind them. Arslan jumped, spinning to face the source of her surprise. A pale face with piercing blue eyes was looking back at them with an innocent head tilt. Like a golden retriever.
"Motha Manta!" Arslan cried out, looking at the face that was on the floor, dead, less than ten seconds ago. "What-how- what?" She stuttered out.
"Wasn't he dead, like, seven seconds ago?" Rheese asked after she had recovered from seeing a walking corpse.
Jaune lightly shook his head, confused at the question. "I was sleeping?" he asked. Arslan shook her head at that.
"You didn't have a pulse. I checked. You. Had. No. Pulse." The lioness said, almost in disbelief at one of two facts: one: Jaune was alive, or two, that he was dead.
Jaune shook his head again. "I was sleeping." he confirmed. "I am very much alive." jaune reached over to grab Arslan's hand. He placed it gently, like he was coaxing a wild animal, or that she was some fragile and precious porcelain doll, on his neck. Guiding her two fingers to his neck, finding his pulse for her.
"See?" he asked, his eyes locked on to hers. "I'm here."
Arslan's eyes widened, and she could feel the heat rush to her face. She barely registered Jaunes faint pulse, a soft Thum thum.
Arslan could feel her own heart beat at a matching rate, much stronger than the ranger's faint one. THUM THUM, echoed in her ears. Did he even know what he was doing? Arslan thought, frozen at the gentle contact. His hands were rough, calloused from what must have been years of combat and fighting. They were not the hands of a Huntsman, who would use aura to protect their skin from the ravages of their work.
No, these were the hands of a man who had struggled. Who had suffered. Who had put in effort far beyond those around them.
Like her. This was a man that shared her hands.
No, these were not her hands. They were similar, but they were gentler. Arslan's hands, despite how she tried, were never kind hands. His were gentle, but worn with the efforts of war.
It made Arslan wonder what those hands had done before they met hers.
Arslan was brought out of her pondering stupor by Rheeseing giggling.
"You done checking his pulse, Ars? Or should I leave the room for a moment?" Rheese said, teasing her leader. Arslan turned a bright red, almost burgundy under her dark skin.
She quickly retracted her hand, stepping away from the hunter in a swift motion. "Apologies." She forced out. "We should get ready." and with that, she turned away to fiddle with her backpack.
Jaune was confused at the sudden change in the chocolate lioness's demeanor.
Did I do something wrong? Jaune asked his mental renters. They just shrugged.
Bro, we've lived with eight women for a majority of our lives, and i still can't tell you jack shit about them. A said with a shrug. They are forces unto themselves and I dare not meddle with such power.
B rolled his eyes at A's almost satirical phrasing. That's not true and you know it. He groaned. They are no less puzzling then men, and no more complex than any other human being. He explained to his counter part. We just suck with humans in general.
Jaune nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. Your right there. He admitted, rolling his neck to work out the morning stiffness. We suck with people.
"Rheese, could you please wake the others?" Arslan said, still hunched over her backpack. Rheese nodded, moving over to nadir first.
"If you have anything you wish to do before we head out, such as equip your armor, the bathroom is free." Arslan said, tightening the drop string on her back pack shut. Jaune gave a small nod, retreating to the bathroom. His armor was there, stacked neatly in a pile on the chair. He started to equip the metal armor, his hand scratching against his face.
Huh. That's new. Jaune said, rubbing his chin with a curious hand. I've never actually been so long without shaving that i grew some scruff. He pondered, his hand wondering over his face. The scratchiness was unfamiliar to him.
B considered the feeling. I must say, I'm not a fan. He admitted. It felt prickly on his fingers.
Jaune was inclined to agree. It made him look like his father.
Yeah. That was probably not a good look for him. Jaune quickly pulled out a knife, facing the mirror.
"Ok, Jaune. Just don't slit your throat, and you'll be fine." he muttered, brining the blade dangerously close to his neck.
Arslan walked into the bathroom, almost backtracking immediately upon seeing that it was technically occupied. But noticing that jaune was not doing anything that it would be inappropriate for her to witness, and that Jaune hadn't noticed her presence, Arslan gave into her curiosity and observed her newfound guest.
He hesitantly looked at the knife he held in his hand, and gave his scruffy chin a contemplative scratch. He then lightly put the blade to his throat.
Arslan moved to take action, taking the blade away from and prevent Jaune's suicide. But then she stopped once she saw him scrape at his scraggly beard hair. He moved slowly, gently and with the caution of someone who was trying something new and particularly dangerous.
She watched from the door frame, patiently waiting for the ranger to finish his task. He carefully made his way along his jaw, only occasionally breaking his skin and leaving behind a small nick. He twitched, running his hand over the bleeding cut. He sighed, letting his aura, dimmed yellow, heal the cuts.
Jaune, half shaven, finally noticed that he was being watched. He looked at her lithe frame in the window, being frozen for a second.
What she's looking at? Jaune wondered, putting his knife down on the sink. "Am I holding you up, Ms. Altan?" jaune asked, looking at her through the mirror. The lioness shook her head.
"No, I'm just curious, that is all." She admitted. "You don't have a razor, it appears." she said, the question turned into a statement waiting confirmation. Jaune gave a shrug.
"Anything is a razor." He responded, returning to carefully cutting at his throat. It's a little like playing with knives.
One wrong twitch and you were promised a lot of pain. And death. Mostly death, actually. One would, should one accidently slit their throat. The feeling is comparable to drowning, I imagine.
But you've never drowned? B asked, not remembering any time that they had drowned.
Jaune shook his head. Yeah, I haven't drowned. Well, not yet anyway. He responded, before continuing his train of thought.
I wonder if drowning is similar. The choking on your own blood. The filling of your throat, the coughing. The clutching at your neck, stubbornly trying to stop the fading in your head.
Jaune worked the blade up his neck, now firmly working on the left side of his jaw. It left scratches and slits, turning red from the close abrasion.
I suppose it wouldn't have the stinging sensation, though. Jaune continued. Having your throat cut leaves this terrible stinging. As your blood oxidizes and the ground is spilt red, it leaves this gasping stinging sensation at the wound. Jaune moved up to his cheek, cutting away at the blonde scruff with precision. He had fallen into a rhythm of sorts. Feel the blade, angle down, and scrape.
It's rather terrifying, come to think of it. Drowning in your own blood. That dying, fading light might be the worst thing about it, though. You know you are dying, you know you are already dead. There is no hope. And you realise there are no gods, None that care, anyway. Jaune gave a huffing chuckle. He set the knife down, running a hand over his work. It was not the cleanest shave, but for no shaving cream or proper razor? Jaune did a damn good job, if he could say so himself.
"Well, enough of that." Jaune said, putting the blade down on the sink with a soft tink sound. He turned to look at the lioness, who was staring at him with a mortified expression on her face.
Jaune wondered what he had done with his shaving that had offender hre very soul so. We didn't do anything wrong did we? Our pants didn't rip in the back or something right? A asked as Jaune surreptitiously felt at his ass. Nope, no rip in his jeans that would reveal something embarrassing.
"What?" Jaune asked, concerned that he had indeed done something egregious that he was unaware of. Was Arslan a member of one of those religions where shaving was blasphemous, and therefore she had bore witness to sin? Jaune didn't think so, as she clearly had the common sense to know that he was about to, and thus had shaved.
Arslan blinked at him, her face one of morbid concern. Like she had just heard something rather disturbing. "Are, Jaune. Are you alright?" She dared to ask, not sure if she wanted an answer.
Jaune's head tilted to the side, reminding her of a labrador puppy, or perhaps an older, more greyed muzzle, but still a dog nonetheless. An ironic juxtaposition considering the ranger's somber tone.
"Why would I not be alright, Ms. Altan?" jaune asked, his tone even, cold, but not foreboding. It was not unkind, just uncolored. Nadir was right.
Jaune was grey. His speech on the slitting of throats, and the death that came with it, was forboding. Arslan had decided that Jaune was not even aware that he had spoken, words spoken into a void that they could not travel through, skipping the journey across the room and straight to her ears. Words only for her.
Arslan gulped once again, unsure of how to break such a topic. "You were speaking your mind again."
Jaune gave her a blank stare, as though his brain was trying to process the previous several minutes, sorting out wether or not he had truely spoken.
"I will take your word for it." he said after a long moment. He reached back, grabbing his knife. It disappeared into the folded shadows of his cape, the grey cloth seemed to be leeching the color out of the air around him. "Think not of it. An intrusive thought, and nothing more is what it was." Jaune said as he walked to the door. Arslan blinked, not sure when Jaune had actually put on his cape and armors during her watch of him.
She had focused on his concerning words that the moments he had put the armor on had escaped her. Jaune was a strange man of strange phenomena, such was certain.
It must be a semblance. Arslan thought. For what else could it be. But then so was his silence.
That too, must be a semblance.
The same for his incomprehensible measure of weapons. Not that they were uncountable, nearly impossible to count.
Just how many semblances did this man have? How many powers did this ranger have to dispose of at his leisure?
Jaune looked at the cocoa lioness. "We are hunting today, yes?" he asked. Arslan nodded, confirming the answer to the question.
"Good." Jaune said, moving past the team leader. "I look forward to it."
He exited the room, but turned to Arslan, as though he were about to say something. Deciding against it, he simply gave a small bow instead.
Arslan wondered what he was thinking.
Team ARBN exited the inn, with full bellies and sharp weapons. One prominent figure was absent from both the breakfast and the group.
Jaune had refused Arslan's offer of joining them, saying that he would hate to intrude and that they could find him at the edge of town. Arslan could not help but worry that in her hospitality she had unknowingly crossed a line with the ranger.
She hoped not. Jaune looked like he could use a friend, someone to trust and rest on. He was tense, like he was going to be jumped at any moment from any alley. His hands constantly found themselves resting on the blades at his belt, or reaching for his quiver. Such movements were quickly shifted into him scratching at the back of his head, or something else equally inconspicuous. But Jaune's reaction to his own actions were not perfect.
Arslan knew that he was tense. Worried. Afraid.
And Arslan had no idea how to help him, or even if helping him was a wise idea. Some challenges must be faced alone, and some times it was not your place to interfere. The words of her mentor and master, Master Yu, came to mind. Words spoken when Arslan was young and at the monastery. When Arslan ,with the best of intentions, intervened and put herself into everyone's business.
Such occasions are up to them to decide, and for you to find out. Arslan sighed, turning her vision to the forest line, where a figure in grey waited.
She wanted to help Jaune, help him heal from whatever issues he clearly had. She wanted to help everyone heal, improve. She wanted to help, however she could. Arslan knew that she couldn't always help, or help as much as she wanted. That would be impossible to ask of any human being. But she still wanted to help.
That's why you are here. Arslan reminded herself. She could have gone on the path that the monastery had wanted her to take. Become a fully fledged monk of the order of The Temple of Nortas Veres, The Northmost Winds. But she had choses a different path, that of a Huntswoman. It was something that the Temple, which was practically her second family, and her own family approved of. It was a path that many, many of their students took, as the life of a Warrior Monk was simply not for them.
Arslan had almost become a monk. She had planned out her life at remaining at the monastery, helping the local village and, with any luck and all her determination, become one of the elder heads.
But that had gone astray when she learned how little the monastery did, in the grand scheme of things. They protected one small village from the endless evils of the world, and that was it. Ygrbedu had become a haven of safety that rivaled Argus, of course. The protection of an entire monastery would do that. But that was only one city with the population of six hundred thousand. Compare that to the several million people in the city of Mistral? It paled, shrunk to something miniscule. It was like a stone to a mountain.
Arslan could protect both of them as a Huntress. That was the deciding factor in her decision. Arslan felt her sandals hit the hard stone, the clacking being very different from the hardwood floor in the inn. She led her team though town, giving polite nods to the curious and trailing townsfolk, too scared to get close, too interested to stray far. Arslan saw Jaune at the edge of the woods, leaning against a tree and chewing on… something. It looked like a chicken wing? From a distance it looked like a chicken wing.
Jaune upon noticing that his fellow hunters were approaching, discarded whatever he was eating, letting it vanish into the bramble.
"Ms. Altan, Team Amber." Jaune greeted them, giving them a bow. "How does this morning find you?"
Nadir's brow furrowed as he recalled their morning. "You already asked us that question?" he asked, confused as to why the question was worth repeating.
Jaune's head tilted again, trying to recall as well. "Did i?" Jaune asked, intrigued but not caring. He shrugged, letting the question slide. "I suppose i must have. Anyway, tell me again for I have forgotten."
Bolin sighed, rolling his eyes. "We are fine, hunter. Just as we were less than an hour ago." he quipped, sounded exhausted already. Jaune smiled, the sarcasm either going over his head or below his position.
"That is good. I hope you are fine enough to go hunting?" He asked, his smile growing wider at the thought of the promised thrill. "I was promised a hunt." That smile was wide indeed, thin and almost reaching to the edge of his jaw. It looks strange on him, that smile. Arslan thought, but she shook the thought of her head. That could be left for later.
For now?
There was a hunt to commit to.
"That we did, Jaune." Arslan agreed, walking towards the forest. "Shall we get going then?"
Jaune gave a low bow, his sharp blue eyes twinkling. "We shall."
Happy new year!
I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. I hated writing it. This chapter was a metaphorical and literal slug fest to get through. Is it just me or are the chapters getting longer and covering less? I can't help but feel that I could cover more in the Exodus arc.
Anyway, we get some more of Arslan's character and her past, and we see how Jaune is when he sleeps.
Please leave a comment, as they are the life blood of this fanfic and my progress. Leave whatever headcannons, encouragement, constructive critism, theories, scenes or ideas you would like to see, or just anything else you think would be interesting. I love reading them and they encourage me to write more.
Again, happy new year and best wishes.