Omniscient POV
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Inside of a dark, luxury apartment sized bedroom, the moon peered in from the towering window, dying everything silvery-blue, well enough to witness Weiss Schnee stab the floor with Myrtenaster, over and over again for hours on end.
Wrinkles stained her pristine grey-blue dress, the matching bolero shrug top covering her shoulders and arms was soaked in sweat, and her ice white Aura flickered in complaint.
Weiss ignored the grief of her body.
Activating her Semblance for the hundredth time tonight, Weiss attempted to summon The Knight Jacques Schnee, her father, pitied her against a year ago, the test which granted her a priceless ticket out of Atlas and straight to Beacon.
A crystal white light erupted from the giant glyph beneath her feet.
Anything that wasn't bolted down was blown away, and the windows curtains and bed sheets flapped like flags about to be ripped off by the incoming storm.
Ever since her outburst at the charity event, Weiss got locked in her own room and stripped of the title of heiress for disobeying and humiliating her father, so with nothing else to do, she spent those lonely days in isolation practicing her summoning.
However, despite her back breaking labours, the glyph flickered and fizzled out like usual before vanishing entirely without any fruit to bear.
Huffing away her vexations, Weiss took refuge on her colossal bed, and just as she was about to drown herself under the fifth cup of coffee today, a knock echoed from the double doors.
"Lady Weiss, I request an audience," said a woman's muffled voice on the other side.
"Just a minute." Weiss smoothed her clothes, wiped her face, and fixed her frazzled hair. "You may enter."
The doors opened, and to her surprise, Viola MacCool stood there at attention.
"Captain?" Weiss' heels clacked across the alabaster floor. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to deliver this, milady." Viola slipped out the letter from her coat. "It's from Stiofan."
Hands fluttering to her face, she concealed a gasp and stepped back, bright blue eyes bigger than dinner plates.
"How is he?!" She latched onto her wrist. "Is he alright?"
Viola grinned and waggled the letter. "See for yourself."
Carefully taking the letter as if it were a priceless gem, Weiss thanked Viola and dismissed her before tearing open the envelope.
Dear Weiss,
Before I begin, it would be remiss of me if I didn't offer you my sincerest and most heartfelt apologies. Forgive me for not sending this letter sooner. The grave injuries I sustained at Beacon Academy and the toll it has placed on both the body and mind have kept me preoccupied. However, that is far from what could be considered a legitimate excuse. If you feel ignored, forgotten, and are rightfully cross with me, I will understand.
Weiss pinched the sides of the letter.
I hear you are well. Although, Viola tells me you're currently being punished by your father. If it provides any sliver of comfort, know that I am better now and that I follow a new path to walk. There is a politician campaigning for a spot on the Atlas Council. Robyn Hill. Perhaps you've heard of her? She is the only person in the entire kingdom fighting for the slums of Mantle, and lately, I find myself leaning more and more towards such a noble cause. I have yet to start this endeavour, but I already know for certain it will be worthwhile.
Tears welled and threatened to rain on the paper.
The only thing more appealing than that would be my thoughts wandering back to the time we shared at Beacon like a butterfly to a flower. I'm sure you do as well. My soul yearns for those days far gone to return. Our friends, our teams. I long to meet them again and be a part of their lives more than ever before.
Stifling a laugh, Weiss shook her head.
"Same here," she said.
Alas, it's getting rather late. Business begins first thing in the morning and nature won't be so forgiving despite my extended absence from the spear and sword. I must rest in preparation for the toil about to be inflicted on these weary bones. My only wonder is how you are faring at this very moment. Whatever the case, remember you will always have my everlasting support. Stay strong and wait a while longer. I will visit soon.
Yours Truly,
Stiofan Ua Binn
Gently setting aside the letter, Weiss crawled towards the head of her bed and buried her face in the pillow, frantically nuzzling and spouting gibberish while slapping her legs back and forth on the mattress.
Weiss went beet red, drunk on pure happiness until it spiralled into rage.
"If you have time to write such a sweet letter, the least you could do is give it to me yourself, you dolt!" Weiss pounded her pillow. "I swear you're going to get a real piece of my mind when you get here, mister!"
Outside of Weiss' bedroom, Viola leaned against the doors, chuckling to the sounds of her gripes and woes before taking her leave.
-----
Stiofan Ua Binn
-----
What was supposed to be a simple meeting became nothing short of an interrogation.
After his enlightening talk with the Captain, Stiofan and Viola shared a bountiful brainstorm for ways to improve life in the slums.
It was safe to say they came to a sound conclusion, reasonable enough to embolden him with the confidence to seek out Fiona in Mantle and request a favour.
Stiofan wanted to make a humble donation, but before he did that, he had to meet the woman of the hour herself.
Robyn Hill.
Whether it was because she was overly trusting or none too worried about ulterior motives, Fiona hardly needed any convincing to schedule a time and place.
Now, days later in a private room within the community center, Stiofan sat across the table from Robyn.
To say she was not what he expected was putting it mildly.
Robyn was a tall woman who had a light tan, short blonde hair tied in a high ponytail, and a sandpaper stare that could wipe flesh off bone.
Perhaps such abrasiveness was a necessary skill, considering she was both a politician and Huntress. It shouldn't be too surprising. The amount of lies and deceit she scrubs from her path for the truth must be commonplace to her.
If that's the case, then taking the scenic route or any vagueness of his part would be very much unappreciated. That meant getting straight to the point with a side of complete and open honesty.
Anything less than that wouldn't cut it, and she would know.
Her time was valuable after all.
"So, Fiona mentioned you're a friend to one of our best donors." Robyn brushed the sleeves of her olive-grey coat and crossed her arms. "She also has a good feeling about you, so I'm willing to lend an ear about what you have to give."
Occupying the space beside Robyn, Fiona beamed nothing short of full confidence.
"I'm going to cut to the chase here, Eyepatch." Her gaze sharpened as she rested against the edge of the table. "How much is it?"
The pressure suddenly became far too demanding, and Stiofan already had so much on his plate. What a shame it would be for a minor slip to ruin what could possibly be the most benevolent donation they've ever received.
They were in for quite the shock.
"You're mistaken, Miss Hill." Stiofan indulged in his hot sweet lemon tea. "I'm not here to give you any money."
Robyn and Fiona exchanged a dumbstruck look.
Ever so slightly, Robyn moved her arm, the very same arm attached to a collapsible crossbow, and pointed it at him.
How cautious.
"Then what exactly are you planning to donate?" she said.
"A change in perspective." Stiofan searched for a certain file in his scroll. "You want to build a new community center in the slums, however, with your current financial struggles, accomplishing such a promising effort would prove difficult."
Fiona innocently munched on her bagel and avoided Robyn's blatant stare.
"Although I don't have much in terms of money to offer," he placed his scroll in the middle of the table for them to see, "I do have a rather unique alternative."
The image clearly befuddled them.
"That's a deer," Robyn said.
Fiona peered closer. "Looks more like a moose to me."
"An elk, actually." Stiofan chuckled at the understandable error. "This one in particular is native to the tundras of Solitas."
Curiosity flicked Robyn's brow. "What are you getting at?"
"You see, the animals on this continent are much larger compared to their counterparts in Sanus and Anima." He grinned. "It has to do with the climate; the cold gives them more meat and fat."
Stiofan swiped the screen and showed them a robust hare.
"Whoa." Fiona gawked. "That's a really big bunny."
The seed of notion nestled in Robyn's eyes blossomed.
"With that much food, we could feed a lot of people while the pelts can be used to keep them warm." She hummed and rubbed her chin. "It would definitely cut down our expenses on food and clothing. That would mean we'd need to hire professionals. They're not exactly cheap either."
"Even if we tried that, good luck finding a hunter crazy enough to go out there." Fiona frowned before taking another bite of her bagel. "I mean, unless you take the main routes, the tundra isn't exactly a walk in the park, and the Grimm don't help much."
"Fiona's right. The tundra is too dangerous." Robyn leaned back and waved it off. "Nice try, but the negatives far outweigh the positives. Your plan just ain't gonna fly."
Well, fortunately for them, he already selected a prime candidate who's willing, able, and perfectly suited for such a heavy task.
"There's no need to worry about hiring anyone." Stiofan casually dispelled their concerns by pointing at himself. "I'll go out there myself."
The two Happy Huntresses paused, staring at as if he were a madman.
Fiona dropped her bagel. "What?"
The slow growth of amusement lifted Robyn's face. "You're serious?"
"Very."
"Alright, then." Robyn snorted. "Name your price. Depending on that, I'll consider hiring you."
Stiofan covered his mouth, struggling to contain the humour desperately trying to slip out.
Pay him? The nerve.
"Uh, Stiofan," Fiona said unsurely, "what's so funny?"
"Apologies for my outburst." He settled himself. "Your assumptions were too much for me, Miss Hill. I'm not seeking any profit for this."
Robyn's jaw slacked, and Fiona dropped her bagel again just when she picked it back up.
Sitting up straight and placing a hand on his chest, Stiofan showed them nothing except his pure sincerity and determination to do what needed to be done.
"I will hunt the tundra," he said. "Free of charge."
The wilds of Solitas was Stiofan's backyard, which he's grown accustomed to years ago, so braving the tundra was nothing more than child's play for him.
There's nothing wrong with some charity work. Besides, what's there to be so surprised about? He did tell them he wanted to make a donation.
"I will do this for however long it takes for you to gather enough funds to complete the community center." Stiofan weighed the work on his palms. "All you have to worry about is finding enough volunteers who can cook wild game and anyone capable of turning pelts into apparel. Easy, no?"
Robyn and Fiona, who have been sitting there wide eyed and frozen by the chill of his insanity, were left utterly speechless.
Who could blame them? He must've sounded like a lunatic.
Robyn was the first to snap from her shock, and she stood, extending her arm across the table.
"How about we shake on it and call it official?"
Stiofan smiled at a job well done.
Meeting her halfway, they shook hands, only for a dull white light to instantly shroud their arms like a sleeve.
Stiofan's breath caught, but when he tried to pull away, Robyn hooked her fingernails into his skin and squeezed tighter than a predator catching prey.
"As good as that all sounds, Eyepatch," Robyn's tongue sharpened against her teeth, "it also smells like a load of crap."
"Don't freak out, Stiofan." Fiona moved closer and held her arms up in peace. "It's all part of the process."
The honesty pleading from her quelled his fractured trust, and he stood firm despite his instincts screaming at him to escape.
"I'm going to ask you some things now." The scalpel of Robyn's words dissected Stiofan's brain. "And don't bother trying to lie your way out of it, cause I'll know."
The sudden pressure muffled his thoughts and gave his heart an uneasy rhythm, yet he concentrated on keeping his composure and controlling himself.
After coming this far, it would be far too humiliating to bow out now.
Stiofan nodded.
Robyn narrowed her eyes. "What's your name?"
"Stiofan Ua Binn."
The light changed to green.
Unfazed, she pulled him closer.
"Do you really want to help us make Mantle a better place?"
"I do."
"Do you have any ulterior motives?"
"No."
"Are you working for someone else?"
"No."
"Are you a criminal?"
"No."
The light remained green throughout the series of questions.
"Last question." The edge of her mouth curled. "Can I count on you?"
"Yes."
Still green.
Robyn sighed and finally released him, putting out the light between them.
"Looks like you passed," she said.
Stiofan examined his hand for anything out of place and smothered the pounding in his chest. "What did you do?"
"Don't worry about it—tell you later." She directed her full, undivided attention onto him. "All I want to do right now is to hear more about how in the world you're going to pull this off."
Fiona flicked a double thumbs up.
Stiofan let out a nervous chuckle over the rocky success, and after giving himself a second to collect himself, their conversation extended well past what any of them would have expected.
-----
Yang Xiao Long
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For several weeks now, Yang got plenty of practice with her new arm.
Atlas sure did a great job making it.
Initially, she thought it'd just be a huge weight, but it felt almost natural, enough to make her forget it was a fake sometimes.
That wasn't all.
Bouncing a small ball off the ground and against the side of the house and back at her, Yang caught it with her prosthetic.
Yang's hand eye coordination and finesse was returning, but the same couldn't be said about her penmanship.
Reading that chicken scratch gave her the heebie-jeebies.
Did Roderick go through the same thing?
That guy made it look so effortless. Yang had to remind herself that he had a prosthetic a bunch of times. Then again, he's had a lot of years to figure it out.
Geez.
Be real nice if Yang could ask Roderick for some pointers.
The bird swooped by.
Yang dropped the ball and crushed a falling stick before it bonked her skull.
Damn bird.
Ever since she started training, the bird's been hitting Yang with sneak attacks, air dropping sticks, rocks, and whatever else it could find to send over.
"Haha, very funny." Yang wiped her hands on her pants. "You're gonna have to try harder than that."
"Yang." Dad came around the corner and gave a firm nod. "Are you ready?"
Dread punched her gut.
The bird dove into the tangled web of leaves and branches of a tree, perching itself like a spectator at a live show.
"Y-yeah." She shook herself out and got hyped. "I can do this."
"Good." Dad did his warm ups and stretches while Zwei barked from the safety of the sidelines. "Cause I'm not holding back."
Yang gave her metal arm another check and stepped back. "Um, actually, can you go a little slow for now—"
He lunged.
Adrenaline instantly flooded her veins.
Shuffling to him, she rocketed out a sidekick. He spun out the way. She pulled back her leg and launched a knee at his nose, but he blocked and slammed his shoulder into her.
Yang fell flat on her back.
Sitting up, she glared at his nonchalant yawn.
Yang rushed him. Dad moved just enough to slip each of her strikes. She shot out her left fist, and he batted it aside while sweeping her leg out at the same time.
Dad looked down at her, clicked his tongue in disapproval, and waggled his finger.
The rage simmered.
Kicking up to her feet, she cried out and hurled herself at him, only for the world to spin and smash her back into the dirt.
"Looks like you haven't lost a step" He sauntered towards a tree and dusted off his hands. "But you're off balance, and no. I'm not talking about your actual balance."
Growling, she fought off the jitters in her hand and charged.
Gotta put this metal fist to good use and cave his face in, but as soon as she threw the punch, he snatched her arm and pinned her against the tree.
"But that could use some work, too."
Yang gritted her teeth at the bark scratching her cheek. "Meaning?"
He released her. "I saw your tournament fights during the Vytal Festival."
"This again." She peeled herself off and did her best dumb impression of him. "Let me guess: I was sloppy."
"I'm telling you, Yang." Dad ruffled Zwei's fur. "You're a great fighter, but not every fight needs to be treated like a sand bag."
Zwei shivered and panted out his tongue.
"Do you realize you used your Semblance to win every fight after the qualifiers?"
"So what?" Her left arm trembled more. "How's using my Semblance any different from someone else using theirs?"
"Because not everyone else's is basically a temper tantrum." He chuckled and sat on a tree stump. "I'm serious. You can take damage and dish it back twice as hard." Pride swelled in his chest. "But that doesn't make you invincible. It's great when you're in a bind, but what happens if you miss—if they're stronger? What then? Now you're just weak and tired."
Dad patted the spot next to him, and Yang reluctantly joined him.
"You've always been one to burn brighter than everyone else, whether it was with your smile, or, well," he tugged on the back of her head, "I remember your first haircut."
She scoffed and swatted his arm.
"You gotta keep your emotions in check." He leaned on his knees and searched the ground for the next phrase of his lecture. "Keep a level head. Think before you act. Your Semblance is a great fallback, but you can't let yourself rely on it. It won't always save you. Obviously."
Lips pressed in a thin line, the side of his jaw flexed, and the way he side-eyed her metal arm shouted loud and clear what ran through his head.
This was something Dad couldn't fix.
Clapping his thighs, he sucked in a refreshing breath of air.
"You definitely have Raven's stubbornness," he said.
Yang snorted. "So, now we can talk about her."
"Well, I just think it's time to tell you." He threw up his arms in defeat. "You deserve to know."
A pang of guilt turned her away. "Well, sorry, if I remind you of her."
"Don't be." Dad sent all the love he had to Yang. "Raven was great in so many ways. Her strength, ambition, her dedication to whatever cause she thought was worth fighting for. I'm proud of how much of her I see in you." A silly little flash of relief sat on his smile. "But I'm glad I don't see all of her in you."
Confusion pinched her. "Why?"
"Your mother was a. . . complicated woman." His wrinkles cut deeper. "Like everyone, she had her faults, and those faults are what tore our team apart. And it did a real number on our family, too." He strolled over to their dog. "You both act like the easiest way to tackle an obstacle is through it—that strength is all that matters in a fight."
Dad elaborately walked around Zwei.
"But if you take a second look, then maybe you'll see there's a way around as well." He returned to his fighting stance. "One more before I leave?"
As much as she didn't want to, Yang kicked away her doubts and did her best to get a grip on the tremors locking her muscles in place.
Relax.
Just relax.
Giving herself time to breathe, she focused and took his advice to heart as she got ready for round two.
"Now, come on." Dad motioned her to hurry. "There's a bargain sale at the market, and I don't want to miss it."
They faced each other, and she contemplated the many elusive ways she could go about this.
Surging forward, Dad went for a spinning heel kick. Yang side stepped, closed the gap between them, and whipped her metal elbow at him. He caught it while she grasped his free arm, and when she tried to kick out his legs, he pulled them back.
"So," he pressed his will on her, "what are you going to do now?"
Most of his body weight leaned on her, so if she simply moved out the way, he'd fall. The thing, though, was that he had her, too. His torso was fully exposed for a good knee strike, but if she did that, she would lose her balance.
How was she supposed to work around this?
A shine of light signalled her prosthetic.
Ah.
Yang let him push her back, moved out the way, and detached her arm.
"Whoa!"
Dad ate dirt.
"Ha!" She kneeled on his back and reattached her arm. "Got'cha."
Laughing, he surrendered, and she let him free.
"That was a good one. You got me there." Dad patted his clothes clean and gestured her to follow. "Wanna come with me to the market? I'm thinking I could use an extra hand."
For reasons that made no sense, Yang broke into a cold sweat, and she backed away closer towards the safety of the house.
"I, uh. . ." Yang grabbed a handful of her hair. "I'm not really feeling up to it."
"Oh." A sad yet understanding flicker crossed him. "Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."
After a wave goodbye, he took to the trail, and she stayed back, watching him slowly shrink in the distance.
Gliding down from the tree and landing at the start of the trail, the bird cawed and twisted its head as if telling her to go.
Yang pursed her lips. "You want me to go after him?"
It flew to her, and she held out her metal arm to give it a spot to land.
"I don't know." She scratched it under the beak. "I honestly can't right now."
The bird wriggled and cooed before it pecked her.
"Hey!" She hissed at the stings needling her bare skin. "Quit it!"
Flying off, the bird circled around and collided with Yang's back, shoving her forward.
"Okay, okay!" She stumbled and found her footing. "I get it. I'll go. Sheesh."
Hurrying up, Yang caught up to Dad, much to his surprise and delight, and up high in the clouds, the bird followed like a guardian angel.
The uncertainties Yang had a second ago were washed away, replaced by the comfort of knowing that no matter what happened next, she'd be alright.