Chapter Forty-Nine
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Forty-Nine
I was without a Scroll. I had no way of contacting Cinder even if I wanted to. Hazel was as talkative as a rock on his best days, and as a house plant when he really got serious about it. The horses were peaceful animals that had long since gotten used to the Grimm, and the creatures of darkness gave them a wide berth too, perhaps because Salem had ordered it to be so.
We camped without worries for the Grimm, and we met with travelers along the way that we didn't attempt to kill, nor harm. Hazel was the most peaceful and humane of Salem's underlings, and perhaps the one I was the most comfortable working with.
Yet, I would never forget that he had no qualms in killing huntsmen, and huntresses, merely because ordered by Salem. His hands could crush skulls, and no amount of whimpering, no amount of begging, would stop him from killing if Salem wished it so. He did not relish the act, he did no enjoy doing it, but he would do it all the same.
All for the sake of his dead sister, though I was not privy to that detail, nor would he speak of it even when pressed. We just traveled in silence, a quiet somber mood following us wherever we went. Money wasn't a problem, although we couldn't stop longer than necessary.
When we finally saw the coast, and the sea, my heart skipped a honest beat of interest. The seagulls shrieked, and I felt something stir deep within my chest.
We found a passage on a ship, with a Faunus captain who asked us to pay a pricey ticket and then had us stand below deck together with our horses.
"We do not have to kill unless it is necessary," Hazel finally spoke with the clear indication that he had more to say, and I merely glanced at him from the patch of dirty straw I had claimed as my sleeping spot for the upcoming days of travel.
I remained quiet, and waited for him to continue. "We have a contact who is willing to lend the White Fang's aid to our cause," Hazel growled. "If we aid them, they will grant us a meeting with the White Fang's leader herself."
"And what kind of aid are we supposed to lend?" I mused.
"We will find out," Hazel acquiesced.
"What if they ask us to blow something up, or kill?" I asked once more.
"Then we will," Hazel said. "Salem has seen merit in a temporary alliance with them."
"Temporary," I mused, "Because once their utility is done with, they'll be food for the Grimm. Like we will."
Hazel gave a slow nod, not even bothering denying my words. "You should remember," Hazel said, "Our wishes come through completing hers."
"When her wish is mankind's destruction, I do wonder who'll be faster. Us in achieving ours, or her in destroying us all," I retorted dryly.
Tyrian would have attacked by then. Hazel didn't care. He had but one purpose, and he had but one goal. Nothing else mattered to him, at least not the words; he'd probably stop me if I attempted anything, but as long as I spoke, I could probably get away with insulting Salem without problems.
"You made your choice," Hazel said.
"And you made yours," I retorted. "You don't like it either, the extra killing."
Hazel grunted a non-committing answer, and then said nothing more.
Our arrival in Menagerie had me hoping for a bath or a shower, or I'd even take a dip in the sea if none of the other options were available. Hazel looked unflinchingly uncaring, but I simply felt miserable. I just hoped Cinder was fine, and that whatever we had to do in Menagerie didn't involve too much carnage.
My first steps on firm land had me sigh in relief. "I could use a shower," I grumbled.
"Once we have made contact," Hazel said flatly, starting to walk down the street. With me by his side, and my weapon on my back, we cut quite the picture that the faunus around us couldn't help but stop to glance our way.
Menagerie didn't have many Grimm, the local beasts apparently were even fiercer than the creatures of death and destruction. I wondered what they even had that could go toe to toe with a Grimm and win, but then dimly realized it didn't matter.
What mattered was that we left the main streets of Menagerie for the dark, seedy alleys, and the Faunus' gazes of curiosity morphed into scowls. There was a dingy bar, and there wasn't even a name for said bar. The dimly lit interior would have been hell for any human, but a cozy place for the Faunus within.
We moved with care, reaching the counter as the barman beyond it merely sneered in our direction.
"The Albain brothers are expecting us," Hazel spoke, curtly.
The faunus, probably a hippopotamus one judging by the large, round tusks jutting from his lips, simply narrowed his eyes at us.
"Are they now?" he muttered. He glanced to the side, and shook his head.
Some faunus that had been nearing stopped on their tracks, and quietly walked back to their tables.
"We'll see if that's true," he added. "Take a seat, and wait."
Hazel did just that, while I simply placed my back against the counter and let Magnistipula slide from my back and stand patiently by my side.
None of the White Fang sympathizers neared us in the meantime. No one asked us if we wanted a drink, or if we wanted the lights turned on. Seriously, their customer service was truly horrendous.
"They'll see you," the Hippo-Faunus grunted at his return, "But no weapons."
"Then I'll wait here," I said. "Two's probably a crowd," I added, looking at Hazel. He looked back, but then nodded.
"Don't start anything," Hazel acquiesced.
I arched an eyebrow, "I am not Tyrian."
He gave a slow nod, and walked with Hippo-Guy into the back of the pub. I remained there instead, looking at the door.
Quietly, I probably faded in the background. Some still shot me dirty looks, but when they realized I wasn't even looking at them, they stopped.
My fingers drummed on the handle of Magnistipula. I wondered if Cinder was fine. Were Emerald and Mercury helping her? Was Cinder sad I wasn't there? Was she taking her frustration out on Emerald? I wasn't there to intervene, and I wouldn't even be able to talk to them even if I did have a Scroll.
The thoughts rummaged in my head, so much that when somebody stepped into the bar, I didn't even notice until they were right in front of my face.
"And what's a human doing here?" the light blue-haired faunus spoke first. She had dark-blue veins across her body, and her azure eyes stared harshly into my figure.
"Seeko doesn't want trouble, the Albains' called them," another Faunus from a nearby table pointed out, probably referring to the Hippo-Faunus.
"Them?" the blue-haired faunus asked.
"His partner's in the back," the other faunus answered with a faint shrug.
"Fine, I don't care," the blue-haired faunus grumbled. "Just move, you're in my seat," she added, looking at me.
I arched an eyebrow. The rest of the counter's seats were free.
"Didn't you hear me, human? You deaf?" the faunus insisted, baring her teeth, "You're in Menagerie, chump. Want to find out what it means when a human comes here?"
"Trifa," the other faunus she had come with said her name. "Look at his weapon."
Trifa snorted, "What, the bigger it is, the-" then she stopped as she took a good look at Magnistipula, as if making two plus two in her head, and quieted down.
She took a step back, and then clenched her fists and spat to the side, taking one of the still free seats by the counter without another word.
I didn't bother asking what it was about.
I waited for Hazel's return, and as the minutes went by, I began to ponder what our purpose here was going to be.
Finally my partner in crime returned, and as he stopped to briefly consider the situation, he quietly gave a nod of approval at the lack of dead bodies.
I walked out with him.
"So," I said. "What's the target?"
"Ozpin's executioner," Hazel said, "A man with a large sword, dark hair, and dark eyes."
I blinked at that. "That's-"
"Branwen," Hazel said, taking the thoughts from my head and driving them into the dirt. "Qrow Branwen-their prisoner got his eyes wrong, but it was night, and a Faunus' vision turns to white and black without much light."
"They want us to kill him?" I ended up asking, nonchalantly.
"They want him alive to execute him, in honor of Taurus' death," Hazel said.
"And we had to come here, of all places, to know we'd be sent on an errand only the Gods know where?" I muttered under my breath.
"Branwen is tricky to find," Hazel said, "But he has family," he added. "And he is unlucky."
"What does that even mean?" I queried, clicking my tongue against my teeth.
"We are hunting him," Hazel said, "We will find him."
"I sincerely doubt we can find one man in the entirety of the Kingdoms, with the CCTS network down, and without the slightest clue on where he might, or might not be," I drawled out.
"Tyrian would be a better tracker," Hazel acquiesced. "But we will begin where he has taught in the past and go from there."
"And where is that?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"The island of Patch, near Vale," Hazel answered, confirming my suspicions.
"You know that?" I blinked. "How would you know that?"
Hazel stopped, ever so briefly. "A classmate we had in common told me, before I killed her. It was in Atlas, a decade or so ago."
"That's cold," I mused.
He looked at me. I looked back at him.
We spoke no words. We made no jibes, nor jokes.
I wondered how he remembered, but then realized that perhaps he remembered every death he had caused.
I vividly remembered the huntsmen and huntresses I had to kill to prove my loyalty to Salem, after all. And if I did, then why wouldn't he?
We left Menagerie the very next day to hunt the unluckiest man in all of Remnant...
...for only he could be the target of the most horrifying case of mistaken identity in history.
I was without a Scroll. I had no way of contacting Cinder even if I wanted to. Hazel was as talkative as a rock on his best days, and as a house plant when he really got serious about it. The horses were peaceful animals that had long since gotten used to the Grimm, and the creatures of darkness gave them a wide berth too, perhaps because Salem had ordered it to be so.
We camped without worries for the Grimm, and we met with travelers along the way that we didn't attempt to kill, nor harm. Hazel was the most peaceful and humane of Salem's underlings, and perhaps the one I was the most comfortable working with.
Yet, I would never forget that he had no qualms in killing huntsmen, and huntresses, merely because ordered by Salem. His hands could crush skulls, and no amount of whimpering, no amount of begging, would stop him from killing if Salem wished it so. He did not relish the act, he did no enjoy doing it, but he would do it all the same.
All for the sake of his dead sister, though I was not privy to that detail, nor would he speak of it even when pressed. We just traveled in silence, a quiet somber mood following us wherever we went. Money wasn't a problem, although we couldn't stop longer than necessary.
When we finally saw the coast, and the sea, my heart skipped a honest beat of interest. The seagulls shrieked, and I felt something stir deep within my chest.
We found a passage on a ship, with a Faunus captain who asked us to pay a pricey ticket and then had us stand below deck together with our horses.
"We do not have to kill unless it is necessary," Hazel finally spoke with the clear indication that he had more to say, and I merely glanced at him from the patch of dirty straw I had claimed as my sleeping spot for the upcoming days of travel.
I remained quiet, and waited for him to continue. "We have a contact who is willing to lend the White Fang's aid to our cause," Hazel growled. "If we aid them, they will grant us a meeting with the White Fang's leader herself."
"And what kind of aid are we supposed to lend?" I mused.
"We will find out," Hazel acquiesced.
"What if they ask us to blow something up, or kill?" I asked once more.
"Then we will," Hazel said. "Salem has seen merit in a temporary alliance with them."
"Temporary," I mused, "Because once their utility is done with, they'll be food for the Grimm. Like we will."
Hazel gave a slow nod, not even bothering denying my words. "You should remember," Hazel said, "Our wishes come through completing hers."
"When her wish is mankind's destruction, I do wonder who'll be faster. Us in achieving ours, or her in destroying us all," I retorted dryly.
Tyrian would have attacked by then. Hazel didn't care. He had but one purpose, and he had but one goal. Nothing else mattered to him, at least not the words; he'd probably stop me if I attempted anything, but as long as I spoke, I could probably get away with insulting Salem without problems.
"You made your choice," Hazel said.
"And you made yours," I retorted. "You don't like it either, the extra killing."
Hazel grunted a non-committing answer, and then said nothing more.
Our arrival in Menagerie had me hoping for a bath or a shower, or I'd even take a dip in the sea if none of the other options were available. Hazel looked unflinchingly uncaring, but I simply felt miserable. I just hoped Cinder was fine, and that whatever we had to do in Menagerie didn't involve too much carnage.
My first steps on firm land had me sigh in relief. "I could use a shower," I grumbled.
"Once we have made contact," Hazel said flatly, starting to walk down the street. With me by his side, and my weapon on my back, we cut quite the picture that the faunus around us couldn't help but stop to glance our way.
Menagerie didn't have many Grimm, the local beasts apparently were even fiercer than the creatures of death and destruction. I wondered what they even had that could go toe to toe with a Grimm and win, but then dimly realized it didn't matter.
What mattered was that we left the main streets of Menagerie for the dark, seedy alleys, and the Faunus' gazes of curiosity morphed into scowls. There was a dingy bar, and there wasn't even a name for said bar. The dimly lit interior would have been hell for any human, but a cozy place for the Faunus within.
We moved with care, reaching the counter as the barman beyond it merely sneered in our direction.
"The Albain brothers are expecting us," Hazel spoke, curtly.
The faunus, probably a hippopotamus one judging by the large, round tusks jutting from his lips, simply narrowed his eyes at us.
"Are they now?" he muttered. He glanced to the side, and shook his head.
Some faunus that had been nearing stopped on their tracks, and quietly walked back to their tables.
"We'll see if that's true," he added. "Take a seat, and wait."
Hazel did just that, while I simply placed my back against the counter and let Magnistipula slide from my back and stand patiently by my side.
None of the White Fang sympathizers neared us in the meantime. No one asked us if we wanted a drink, or if we wanted the lights turned on. Seriously, their customer service was truly horrendous.
"They'll see you," the Hippo-Faunus grunted at his return, "But no weapons."
"Then I'll wait here," I said. "Two's probably a crowd," I added, looking at Hazel. He looked back, but then nodded.
"Don't start anything," Hazel acquiesced.
I arched an eyebrow, "I am not Tyrian."
He gave a slow nod, and walked with Hippo-Guy into the back of the pub. I remained there instead, looking at the door.
Quietly, I probably faded in the background. Some still shot me dirty looks, but when they realized I wasn't even looking at them, they stopped.
My fingers drummed on the handle of Magnistipula. I wondered if Cinder was fine. Were Emerald and Mercury helping her? Was Cinder sad I wasn't there? Was she taking her frustration out on Emerald? I wasn't there to intervene, and I wouldn't even be able to talk to them even if I did have a Scroll.
The thoughts rummaged in my head, so much that when somebody stepped into the bar, I didn't even notice until they were right in front of my face.
"And what's a human doing here?" the light blue-haired faunus spoke first. She had dark-blue veins across her body, and her azure eyes stared harshly into my figure.
"Seeko doesn't want trouble, the Albains' called them," another Faunus from a nearby table pointed out, probably referring to the Hippo-Faunus.
"Them?" the blue-haired faunus asked.
"His partner's in the back," the other faunus answered with a faint shrug.
"Fine, I don't care," the blue-haired faunus grumbled. "Just move, you're in my seat," she added, looking at me.
I arched an eyebrow. The rest of the counter's seats were free.
"Didn't you hear me, human? You deaf?" the faunus insisted, baring her teeth, "You're in Menagerie, chump. Want to find out what it means when a human comes here?"
"Trifa," the other faunus she had come with said her name. "Look at his weapon."
Trifa snorted, "What, the bigger it is, the-" then she stopped as she took a good look at Magnistipula, as if making two plus two in her head, and quieted down.
She took a step back, and then clenched her fists and spat to the side, taking one of the still free seats by the counter without another word.
I didn't bother asking what it was about.
I waited for Hazel's return, and as the minutes went by, I began to ponder what our purpose here was going to be.
Finally my partner in crime returned, and as he stopped to briefly consider the situation, he quietly gave a nod of approval at the lack of dead bodies.
I walked out with him.
"So," I said. "What's the target?"
"Ozpin's executioner," Hazel said, "A man with a large sword, dark hair, and dark eyes."
I blinked at that. "That's-"
"Branwen," Hazel said, taking the thoughts from my head and driving them into the dirt. "Qrow Branwen-their prisoner got his eyes wrong, but it was night, and a Faunus' vision turns to white and black without much light."
"They want us to kill him?" I ended up asking, nonchalantly.
"They want him alive to execute him, in honor of Taurus' death," Hazel said.
"And we had to come here, of all places, to know we'd be sent on an errand only the Gods know where?" I muttered under my breath.
"Branwen is tricky to find," Hazel said, "But he has family," he added. "And he is unlucky."
"What does that even mean?" I queried, clicking my tongue against my teeth.
"We are hunting him," Hazel said, "We will find him."
"I sincerely doubt we can find one man in the entirety of the Kingdoms, with the CCTS network down, and without the slightest clue on where he might, or might not be," I drawled out.
"Tyrian would be a better tracker," Hazel acquiesced. "But we will begin where he has taught in the past and go from there."
"And where is that?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"The island of Patch, near Vale," Hazel answered, confirming my suspicions.
"You know that?" I blinked. "How would you know that?"
Hazel stopped, ever so briefly. "A classmate we had in common told me, before I killed her. It was in Atlas, a decade or so ago."
"That's cold," I mused.
He looked at me. I looked back at him.
We spoke no words. We made no jibes, nor jokes.
I wondered how he remembered, but then realized that perhaps he remembered every death he had caused.
I vividly remembered the huntsmen and huntresses I had to kill to prove my loyalty to Salem, after all. And if I did, then why wouldn't he?
We left Menagerie the very next day to hunt the unluckiest man in all of Remnant...
...for only he could be the target of the most horrifying case of mistaken identity in history.
