Stiofan Ua Binn
-----
For reasons beyond him, Stiofan struggled to touch his spears.
Red Fury and Yellow Fury remained in the yard right where Viola placed them, and they stood guard better than any trained soldier could ever hope to accomplish.
Stiofan spent a few minutes watching the snow collect on the shafts, but in this frigid weather, an hour might have already passed.
The day Stiofan finished his initial training to become a First Guard of the SDC, Viola had these spears made and gifted them to him herself.
How long ago was it?
Must've been at least a few years now, yet it seemed like only recently he claimed them as his own.
These trusted polearms carried the highest of virtues and valour, solely wielded to protect those in his care and aimed at those who dared to cause them harm.
Stiofan laughed, but there was nothing humourous about it.
"That's why, I suppose," he said to himself.
No more First Guard. No more Beacon. No more reasons to bother trying to hold these spears.
Stiofan's right eye throbbed.
"Staring at those things won't make them move, you know."
Viola sat halfway outside the kitchen windowsill, sipping from a mug and shooting him an amused yet concerned look.
"How long have you been there?" Stiofan said.
"Long enough."
"Apologies." It occurred to him she was to his right. "I didn't see you."
Putting away her drink, she came over, the ruffle of worry creasing her face.
"Wanna talk about it?" she said.
He turned away.
"I'm here for you." The delicate reach in her voice was careful enough to pick broken glass. "I'll listen to anything you have to say."
The three months he's been held at the infirmary in the Atlas Command Center, Stiofan was alone. Visitors and calls were prohibited. Nothing except three meals a day, the occasional doctor's check up, and whatever intrusive thoughts decided to torture him every morning and night.
There wasn't much to say to anyone that he hasn't already told himself.
"Maybe another time." His mind faltered to process anything past that. "I'm all out of words right now."
The clear irk and frustration rubbing off her was enough to understand he's far from in the clear.
"If that's the case," she passed him and entered the yard, "then why don't we do some exercises?"
"All I've been doing is exercises." He recounted the amount of sweat spent this entire month. "Unless you have a new regimen in store for me, perhaps?"
"Of course." Viola pointed to her right eye. "That prosthesis won't be ready for a while, so I'm going show you something you can use until it's done."
A swell of curiosity had his imagination running circles. "What would that be?"
"Tell me," she smirked and crossed her arms, "did they teach you anything about Aura in Beacon?"
"Just the simple basics." The ghost of Professor Goodwitch's lessons educated Stiofan once more. "My academics ended prematurely before I could learn more."
"Then let's pick up where you left off." A staff ejected from her shadow and into her grasp. "Starting with Aura one-oh-one."
Stiofan lent his ear.
"As you are aware, Aura protects us from harm—be it from physical damage or temperature like heat. In our case, the cold." She examined the staff. "There are more advanced techniques to it other than that."
Viola twirled the staff faster than fan blades in the most casual manner and launched waves of her purple Aura to the sky.
"You can instil Aura into your weapon to enhance your strikes like that." She hurled the staff in a random direction. "Or you can do this."
The trajectory of the staff curled back around and zoomed back to Viola from behind. Without even a glance, she sidestepped and snatched the staff, seamlessly spinning it and planting the end in the ground.
To be aware of something despite being hidden or too far out of reach to be sensed. The concept was familiar, due in large part to Stiofan's interactions with Ren and his natural talent for Aura.
"Aura is no different from our skin, yet it works the same as our eyes, nose, and ears." Viola closed her eyes and basked in the tundra's embrace. "But it needs to be trained like muscles or skills. Master that, and you'll be able to feel the world."
Feel the world.
To have such a skill, especially with his visual impairment, would be highly beneficial for him. However, to be able to do such a thing required a formidable amount of training for someone willing, able, and. . . competent.
Stiofan's right eye ached.
"I can teach you, Stio." She showed her hand and grinned. "So, what do you say? It'll be just like old times."
"I appreciate the offer," he said regretfully, "but I must decline."
The way her cheerful expression melted into a baffled mess of disappointment and bewilderment hurt to witness.
"O-oh, I see." She cleared her throat and tried to figure out what to do next. "Uh, well, if that's the case, then I'll leave you be. Just try and think about it, okay?"
Avoiding Viola's gaze as she retreated indoors, Stiofan went to the backyard and jumped into the spare dropship.
Stiofan needed a distraction, so he flew off in a rush, hoping a scenic walk around Mantle would rid him of these ravenous vexations devouring him alive from inside out.
-----
Yang Xiao Long
-----
Yang was at Beacon again.
Darkness and fire surrounded her. Everything was hazy. Her right arm was back, and Ember Celica adorned both her wrists.
A bright red glow erupted from the shadows ahead.
Adam Taurus emerged.
Screaming, she swung her arms, firing every single bullet loaded in her gauntlets.
They did nothing.
Adam closed in without a worry in the world.
Go away!
Yang paused to catch her breath, and when she tried attacking again, her gauntlets were suddenly gone along with her right arm.
In that split second, Adam instantly was in front of her. Fear tied every fiber of muscles in place; she couldn't budge no matter how badly she wanted to flee.
Adam grinned and unsheathed his sword.
-----
Yang jerked awake in bed, heart pounding faster than the engine of her motorcycle running at top speed.
The wind in her lungs was gone; it hurt to breathe.
Pressing against the headboard and putting her all into guzzling as much air as she possibly could swallow, the wild drum breaking her sternum finally settled down.
Yang relaxed, releasing a long sigh of relief, and she let go of the sheets choked in her hand, drenched in her own sweat.
Not again.
With a groan, she balled the sheets, tossed them in the corner, and stuffed her face into her arm and knees until she was ready to get out of bed.
There was no point in trying to go back to sleep now.
Besides, from the way the curtains held a faint glow, the sun was coming up, so that means she had nothing except another day to waste.
She pulled open the curtains, flooding the bedroom in light.
For some reason, who knows when or why, Yang always expected her sister to be snoozing peacefully away in their room every single morning, and same as usual, those very hopes were crushed by Ruby's empty bed.
The metal arm on the dresser between their beds begged her to put it on.
Yang passed by it to go out onto the balcony and soaked in the fresh, cool air massaging every bit of her lungs.
The woods, a place she's known her entire life and could navigate blindfolded, circled the house. Highlights of routes ping ponged between the crowd of tree trunks, and the main road rolling a red carpet to town revved her motorcycle.
When was the last time she left the house?
Ever since Yang came back home, all she did was sit around and do chores single handedly. So, she needed a walk after doing a whole lot of nothing, and honestly, the thick pinch of skin on her sides scared the bejeebers out of her.
Alright, now that that's decided, standing up here thinking about it wouldn't be doing her any favours.
After cracking her joints and doing some quick stretches, the impulse to jump over the balcony railing just like she did back in the day urged her to go.
Hesitation pulled her away from the rail.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, she ran her fingers through her hair and took the stairs instead.
Let's not get ahead of herself.
"Morning there!" Dad stuck his head out of the kitchen doorway with a big, stupid smile. "You hungry? I'm making waffles!"
"Morning." Yang helped herself to a glass of water. "I'm heading out. Gonna hit the old trail."
"Hey, that's great." The happy ray of sunshine beaming off him was blinding. "It's good to finally get out of the house every once in a while."
"You can say that again." She rolled up a waffle and ate it like a burrito. "So, I'm gonna go now. Don't wait up."
"Be safe." He brandished the rule of law with his spatula. "And don't go too far."
"Yeah, yeah."
Stuffing the rest of the waffle in her mouth, Yang jogged off, following a dirt trail into the woods.
The crushing of leaves and rustle of grass passing between her legs and under her feet was a familiar song. A nice breeze caressed her mane. The crisp and refreshing pine scented air mixed with the musty and damp decay of old trees and mud was intoxicating.
A black bird sailed overhead and perched on a branch, watching her stroll on by with beady red eyes.
All the ghostly games Yang played with Ruby, Roderick, and Reynold weaved between the tree trunks, the faint echo of their laughter and yells tickling her ears.
What she wouldn't give for the four of them to be together again.
The same went for her team.
She grabbed a stick and etched RWBY into the soil, giggling at how much more fun the past year has unexpectedly been.
What were Weiss and Blake up to nowadays?
Weiss probably had the time of her life at the top of that ivory tower called Atlas, and Blake, well, she's probably doing whatever Blake's do, like reading a book and sniffing catnip in a box or something.
Yang really missed that stuffy dorm room and those crazy bunk beds.
Riding the motorcycle of memories, she travelled further than intended, and it was only when the rotten and decrepit house appeared, it hit her that she went on autopilot.
The happy nostalgia giving her a high instantly crumbled into a fist of dread sucker punching the wind out of her.
Yang's right arm itched.
This was where it happened.
The past returned in full force, much more vivid and violent than the Fall of Beacon.
Roderick shoving Yang away from the Beowolf ripping off his left arm instead of her head, Qrow arriving to save them from certain death, the blood and tears covering Yang as she tried to help Roderick.
The cries he let out hurt her heart, and the thick, red, iron pools drowned her in the depths of despair.
She was such an idiot.
The obsession of trying to find Raven Branwen, Yang's real mother, led her to this place. She needed to find answers, no matter the cost, and that meant dragging Roderick and Ruby into her mess.
Guess who paid the price?
If she could take it all back and stop herself, Yang would do it without a second thought. Who was she trying to fool? That was never going to happen, and there was nothing she could do to make up for it.
Controlling her breathing and checking her right arm, she wrestled the perplexing burn throbbing at the end of the stump.
"What the heck?" Yang racked her brain for a way to end the pain. "Quit hurting already."
It got worse.
A blow to the gut knocked her to the ground, fire seared her arm, and when it was too much to take, she screamed.
Kicking up leaves and dirt everywhere, Yang flailed to put out the nonexistent flames.
Go away. Just stop!
Squawk!
The black bird with the red eyes from before swooped over and landed next to Yang as she whimpered, barricading the battering ram of tears desperately wanting to break free.
She sucked in air through her gnashing teeth and pleaded with every last strand of hair on her head for the pain to leave.
"It hurts." She told the bird. "It hurts."
The bird flapped its wings and made a nest out of her hair, snuggling deeper into the crook of her neck.
It was weird.
Yang didn't get why, but for some reason, she could melt into the soil right at this very moment, the same way she jumped in bed back at Beacon when classes were finally over. The wind refuelled her lungs, like the magical sip of cold water after a long run, and the comfort of the bird's touch eased the pain better than a lick of ice cream on a hot day.
Minutes passed of them just laying there and soaking in each other's warmth.
All she wanted to do was lay there and let the wave of exhaustion lull her eyelids shut, but she knew better than to stay out here any longer.
Peeling herself off the ground and dusting her clothes, Yang made the long trek back. She just didn't expect to have company flying with her the whole way home.
-----
Stiofan Ua Binn
-----
Now that he had a bottomless well of time and energy, he had no idea what to do with it.
There were seldom options when it came to leisure outside of exercise and surfing through movies, and there was only so much he could take being cooped inside the house.
Not to mention living off Viola's continued kindness would be unbecoming of him, no matter how long she allowed him to stay, so that meant he had to earn his keep or find a way to repay her at the very least.
That meant finding a position fit for him.
Perhaps, he could find a place kneading dough in a bakery or serving dishes at a restaurant. Such a task would be child's play for him. However, the thought of labouring endless days in and out seemed so unfulfilling, considering the hundreds of businesses and establishments providing food for the hungry found anywhere on Remnant.
They were all pieces of hay in the haystack.
Being a bodyguard and student Huntsman held a sense of purpose—great importance and pride he could give his steadfast loyalty and devotion towards.
Not many other professions held a similar sentiment.
The closest thing he could think of was Atlas Academy, yet his distaste for it prevented him from entertaining the idea of enrolling.
As good as a man Ironwood was, the monopoly he had on the school and military was unjust. Huntsmen and Huntresses were supposed to be free to choose where they went and where they worked after graduation, but the academy's curriculum was structured to herd them right into the open arms of the army.
How Winter found a home in the military was beyond Stiofan; that goes to show she wasn't like any other rank and file soldier.
After investing his entire life into becoming a member of the SDC First Guard, he failed his first task to protect the cargo on a train. Then he was forced to attend a Huntsmen Academy and serve the full four years before he could return as punishment.
Of course, he chose Beacon, and made the life altering decision to do a career change out of passion and desire. It was perfect until it all fell apart. He gave his everything for the school, which clearly wasn't enough, and he received nothing in return.
That begged the question.
Even if he did find something good for himself, who's to say he wouldn't fail miserably at that, too?
What a cruel and twisted jest.
Stiofan kicked an empty can down the street.
The can dinged off a familiar stall accepting donations in the name of Robyn Hill, and the same sheep Faunus Stiofan came across before in his last outing with Viola took notice.
"Oh, I remember you." She waved him over. "You were with Captain MacCool—Stiofan, right?"
Stiofan approached the stall with a smile and lien for the box out of consideration. It would've been rude otherwise.
"Indeed," he said and surrendered his money. "Fiona, if I'm not mistaken."
"That's right." She hopped on her toes and waggled her sheep ears. "It's nice to meet you again."
Plastered all over the stall and on the wall behind Fiona, posters of Robyn Hill yelled at Stiofan to hurry and go vote for her now.
Hmm.
If it's true that Robyn was the only candidate trying to help the slums of Mantle, that's where these donations were supposedly heading, and Viola already voted for her, then it wouldn't hurt to inquire more on the subject.
"Forgive me for my ignorance, Fiona." Stiofan tapped the stack of posters on the stall. "I've been out of the kingdom for over a year and only recently returned. Could you tell me more about Robyn Hill's campaign, exactly?"
Fiona beamed, positively radiant over what must have been her favourite question of all time.
"You came to the right person!" She proudly stuck out her chest and pointed at herself. "I just so happen to be teammates and best friends with Robyn. We go way back."
That's rather shocking.
He honestly expected her to simply be another volunteer or employee.
How fortuitous.
"Actually," Fiona checked her watch and grinned, "I'll be off the clock soon, so if you don't mind waiting, I can tell you whatever you want to know once I'm done."
He didn't mind at all.
Once her shift was over, Fiona escorted Stiofan to the dilapidated slums, tucked against the crater walls in the corner pocket of the city.
To call it a neighbourhood would be rather generous, when in actuality, it was more of a giant campground. The closest thing to a building were the huts, held together by tattered tarps and rotten wood, and some were even fashioned from old shipping containers.
Run of the mill winter wear found in cheap bulk appeared to be commonplace among the local denizens. It served its purpose to keep the cold at bay, so other than the wear and tear absolutely eviscerating the low quality fabrics, there was no room for complaint.
The search for replacement apparel must be a frequent occurrence.
"And here we are." Fiona flourished the slums like the grand unveiling of a priceless artifact. "This is what us Happy Huntresses are trying to fix. Isn't it lovely?"
Stiofan sweatdropped at the unique choice of words. " 'Happy Huntresses?' "
"It's my team from back when we were students at the academy." She flexed her arm. "Robyn's the leader."
"Really?" The surprising news caught him off guard. "I never heard of any graduates escaping from enlistment."
"You have no idea how hard that was." Fiona made zero effort to hide her disgust. "Come on, I'll show you around."
He made a conscious effort to keep her on his left side so as to not lose sight of her.
Delving deeper into the camp, they navigated the maze of tents and the sickly, begging for warmth and food around the cauldrons of soup cooking over the open fires.
Most of these people were Faunus.
A ball and chain of sorrow and shame hooked Stiofan's heart, dragging it ever closer to the reality he's ignored his entire life.
Blake was right about the SDC.
It's so easy casting pity at Mantle from Atlas, no different from absentmindedly throwing away garbage and simply forgetting about it just as quickly. However, being down in the thick of their toil and strife changed everything, and now turning a blind eye to their suffering was impossible without guilty sin shoving it back into full view.
"Food, clothing, medicine." Fiona glowed in joy. "The donations ensure our people get all that, and we try to give them more but it hardly ever lasts, food especially, so everyone makes do with what they got here."
Stiofan imagined himself in their shoes, trying to survive on scraps day in and day out, and the life he currently had suddenly became a paradise taken for granted.
"The volunteers do their best to help us keep it all running." She skipped along. "Without them, we would've never been able to make it this far, let alone run an entire campaign for a seat at the council. So, we owe it to them to do our very best to win."
Following an elevated rampway leading to an entrance in the crater wall, they entered, and shockingly enough, a public square stood shy of the fenced chasm.
Most importantly, there were actual buildings made from proper steel and concrete, and in the middle of it all was a structure large enough to rival a warehouse.
Stiofan paused at the top of the long staircase, mouth agape, and Fiona giggled.
"This is the old mining facilities from way back when the SDC still used it for the crater. It's been closed off ever since they emptied it." She hopped and threw arms wide. "That was until we bought it and turned it into our very own community center."
"It'll have everything," she continued. "There will be a mess hall and kitchen, an infirmary, a school for kids, jobs for people to earn an honest wage, a place where they can hangout and play, and there will be dormitories for everyone!"
Fiona deflated.
"But the reconstruction's been slow and we're barely making enough funds to pay off this crazy project." She massaged the exasperations from her brow. "At this rate, Atlas will fall before we even come close to finishing it."
Crazy, indeed.
To think that Robyn Hill spends her limited time and resources to take care of the slums and literally build it into a better place . . . It was beyond staggering.
Fiona held her hips and admired the view. "So, you get it now?"
Stiofan battled the indigestion of information bloating his belly.
"I do," he said.
Hands clasped behind her, she knowingly peeked at him through her lashes.
"If that's true, what are you going to do now?"
That was a very good question he didn't have the answer to at the moment.
What was he supposed to do?