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Gotham's Dead End Bar Ch.75
🕑 Added 2025-05-19 23:25:59 +0000 UTC— Sean —
“-But really, it’s a matter of preference. And personally, I prefer not dying to stupid, entirely avoidable complications, such as clients who think they know better than the Hunters they specifically hired to protect them. Our times come when they come, but we shouldn’t seek them out a moment sooner if we can help it.
“That’s why Escort missions are the scourge of Remnant. More exhausting than any Search and Destroy mission, more tedious than any Defense, more ungrateful than any Asset or Personnel Recovery, and even more dangerous than the highest of Bounties.
“If you get stuck with an Escort mission, do yourself a few favors: ramp your paranoia up to 11, know when to — frankly and politely — tell the client to shut the fuck up, and always have an exit strategy in mind, even if you have to write the mission off as a loss.
“Oh, and record every interaction you have with the client for posterity. Just in case. Your reputation will thank me later… Any questions?”
A sea of hands shot up as I looked out over my new class. I chuckled at the eagerness to learn on display. Already, ‘Rainchecking Death as a Hunter 101’ was turning out to be a popular course. It wasn’t pure practical like Glynda’s sparring periods. But neither was it ‘traditional classwork’ like Oobleck’s Remnant History course, or ‘unfocused ramblings with valuable lessons that few caught’ like Port’s Grimm Studies (stories, more like…).
I aimed to strike new ground. My submitted lesson plan (Glynda insisted, and I obliged to keep her from stressing) consisted of some practical demonstrations of essential but oft-forgotten skills, do-and-don’t tip sessions, and general Q-and-As. Mostly, I looked to cover the aspects of Hunting that slipped through the cracks of Beacon’s otherwise formalized education. Like, for example, shedding light on the absolute worst kind of mission a Hunter could have…
“Ruby,” I called upon one of the raised hands.
Ruby beamed brightly as she was called on, but began to shift a bit awkwardly in her seat as the attention turned to her. “So, uh… like… why?”
“Illuminating question, dolt,” Weiss scoffed.
“I mean-!” Ruby was quick to correct herself and elaborate. “Why do we even have to take missions like that if they’re so bad?”
“Fair question. The answer… society, I suppose,” I nodded, chuckling. “Despite the state of Remant, despite the Grimm-tide, people still find the need or desire to travel. But the no-man’s land between the kingdoms can’t be braved alone. Vale to Vacuo, for example, is a lethal journey, even for Hunters, but especially for civilians. However, trade between the two kingdoms is profitable and necessary for both sides.
“So the regular expeditions need protection. Merchants and caravan leaders will usually make do with mercenaries, bandit tribes, criminal syndicates, or even professional soldiers in some cases. But individually, Hunters tend to be better trained and equipped than all but the best mercs, bandits, enforcers, and soldiers. And we need gainful employment, too.
“As long as society exists, money will be money. Most people like having money, for, ya know, living and the like. For a freelance Hunter or Hunter Team, Escort missions will always be the most frequent and consistent paycheck available. They’re a pain in the ass from a practical standpoint, but there’s no shame in making a living that way.”
“Surely, there are more efficient and quicker ways to conduct trade and travel,” Weiss scowled.
I raised an eyebrow, “Perhaps. But airships and seaships are expensive, and often even more dangerous than traveling by foot.”
“I knew it! Vindication!” Jaune exclaimed. “Our feet belong on the ground! See?! Motion sickness isn’t weird! It’s practical!”
Yang laughed, “Keep telling yourself that, Vomit Boy.”
“He has a point, though!” Pyrrha enthusiastically came to Jaune’s defense. “Land travel is practical! Consistent! Safe-… err, safe-ish…?”
The students looked to me for the deciding vote, and I nodded, “It is. Grimm can only get so big on the ground. Certainly, big enough, but nothing compared to other environments. The air… that’s where real monsters lurk. And don’t even get me started on the sea. The… things… that lurk in the depths put fear into the gods…”
A shudder ran through my audience as their imaginations began running wild. Whatever they thought the worst case scenario to be, it was probably worse… ‘There Be Leviathans, Kraken, and Sea Dragons’ type-shit. I doubt even Salem completely knew what went on in the Grimm Depths…
“Avoid deep water and heights at all costs, then,” Barbara said flatly, nodding. “Got it.”
“Approach them with suitable caution, at least,” I confirmed. “If nothing else, it’s a bit hard to raincheck Death if you can’t even get your feet under you. But it’s entirely likely that you’ll all have to deal with ‘The Horrors™’ once or twice in your Hunter careers.”
“GASP!” Nora gasped by actually saying the word. “Oh no! Ren is awful with scary movies! Don’t worry, Renny, I’ll protect you from The Horrors! And from whoever that Tim fella is!”
She glomped onto Ren and clutched her friend protectively. Ren just sighed and reached up to pat her head. “Thank you, Nora. You’re very brave.”
“How horrifying…” Blake muttered.
“Heh~… Nice one, partner!” Yang praised, holding her hand out for a high five.
Blake looked her in the eye and shook her head, “No pun. I meant it literally. I’m quite horrified.”
Jason chuckled, “With Sean? You get used to it.”
“ノﾞ`⎚⩊⎚´ -✧” Cass pushed up a pair of imaginary glasses. ‘Uhm, ackshually, it’s Professor Sean. Put some respect on my teacher-student fantasy!’
There was a brief, blinking moment that overtook the classroom. Alice, expectedly, was the first to react, “Shut the FU-! Cass, I will freakin’ SMITE YOU!”
“。゜゜(´Ｏ`) ゜゜。” Cass whined. ‘Noooouuuu~… Don’t smite my horni…’
“I’d be entirely within my rights, you gremlin!” Alice shouted back, pointing fiercely.
“ヾ(・ω・)メ(・ω・)ノ” Cass asked. ‘Can’t we be friends?’
“Only enemies! So long as you covet my father with your sinful and lurid mind, we may only be enemies!” Alice declared, dignified in her fury.
“┐( ˘ 、 ˘ )┌” Cass shrugged. ‘It seems we’ve reached an impasse, then.’
“Wha-?! No, it’s simple!” Alice dropped any pretense of dignity she claimed. “Just stop seducing my dad, you slut!”
“(￣～￣;)” Cass played dumb. ‘Slut, me? No, no, you must be mistaken. Can’t be me. I’m still a virgin, after all.’
Alice snapped at her, “Virginity hasn’t stopped you from being a slutty hot mess! Don’t take me for a fool!”
“((╬◣﹏◢))” Cass took a sudden reversal into stubbornness and determination. ‘Fine! Then, I’ll never stop! Not until I get my satisfaction! I’ll plague your father with temptation until the end of days! I will claim my rightful spot as one of his mistresses! You will call me ‘step-mother’, Alice! Resistance is futile! Accept the inevitable! Don’t make me start seducing your mom, too! Just test me! I’ll do it! I’ll eat goth pussy just as eagerly as I’ll suck goth dick!’
“AAAAGHHH! LALALALALALA, I can’t hear you!” In almost physical pain, Alice desperately covered her ears.
Meanwhile, the rest of the class just watched the back and forth like it was a tennis match. Some were just stunned. Some, like Nora, had produced popcorn from… somewhere. Some, like Yang, were grinning ear to ear at the show. And some, like Blake, seemed to be taking notes.
Ruby summed the situation up best, muttering with a completely red face, “Dude… This is so not how I thought Beacon would be…”
“Cass will always, always defy expectations,” Damian told her, his tone surprisingly sympathetic for him.
I watched them and chuckled to myself. Wasn’t that an interesting development? Damian and Ruby… I would’ve never seen it coming. It was rather adorable, though. Just something amusingly new for this time around.
In that, it joined Jaune’s better starting line, fascinating friendships all around, and Cass’s… everything. But really, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. After a week or so, Teams RWBY and JNPR were as I remembered them, including Jaune and Ruby having to rise to the occasion as leaders.
Weiss was still being picky about Ruby’s elevation over her. The Heiress wasn’t used to taking orders like that, and she was kinda bossy besides, but the tension there was settling. With the benefit of foresight, I knew Oz had chosen correctly. Ruby was the best of the four to hold them all together. Weiss was only resisting because it went against how she thought things should go.
On Jaune’s side of things… He was a mess. An inexperienced, at times absent-minded, but still surprisingly charming mess of untapped potential. From his starting point, he could become just about anything. His team realized that. Nora and Ren happily stood with him. And Pyrrha was just as supportive as the first time around, with her crush on Jaune being rather obvious to everyone but him. Now, that was always amusing to watch.
Glynda was true to her word, making it my responsibility to catch Jaune up to speed. Really, it was a matter of hard work on his part and not getting discouraged. Pyrrha helped with the hard work, constantly pushing Jaune to be better, and I reassured him that he was making progress. It just took time and consistency, now.
Team BCWT (Black Wilt… Ozpin had done his best to keep up the usual naming scheme) was also doing as well as could be expected. Honestly, classes were a cakewalk for the Bat kids. They were used to actual briefings and actual missions, but Beacon’s slower pace wasn’t doing them wrong, per se. It made their learning more laidback than they were used to, but they still absorbed new information with gusto, be it Grimm specs, Remnant’s history, or Dust physics.
There were points of interest, of course. Damian’s ‘murder-crush’ on Ruby. Which was fair. Ruby was good at killing Grimm, and she looked good doing it. I could hardly fault him for being attracted. His courting method needed some work, though. I’d need to tell him that cookies were the way to Ruby’s heart, not Grimm head trophies…
Barbara was often seen chilling with Blake around campus, doing who knows what… Well, I knew, but I also found it rather hilarious. So, I may have dropped off a little gift for them to share. Nothing much. Just another smutty story, this one focused on collars and cat girls. For… heh, reasons~…
Jason was turning heads everywhere he went in Beacon without even realizing it. He was a handsome, fit, and charismatic young man, with a healthy helping of danger to his walk and tragedy to his backstory. His peers certainly saw that where he didn’t. When Alice wasn’t helping me with classes, she could be seen trailing after him and practically hissing at interested girls like a cat with her hackles raised. Himbo Jason was just enjoying the extra time they were spending together. Yang, however, was circling no matter how much Alice tried to push her away. I don’t think my dear daughter realized that she was just as much Yang’s prey as Jason was…
Cass, meanwhile… Cass had been everywhere and nowhere, both at once. She was quickly becoming THE student presence in Beacon. Chaos that everyone else found themselves swept up in. She hadn’t stopped pushing her ‘Auditoria’ plot. The first week’s Taco Tuesday was well-received by both students and staff. And Cass was certainly exercising her ‘right to bear explosions’, much to Glynda’s dismay.
Then, there was the time she stole Oobleck’s coffee supply and replaced it with decaf. The habitually stimulated professor fell into a depressive fugue and ended up leaping off Beacon’s Clocktower. With Aura, the fall accomplished nothing but dramatics. Cass on meth-level caffeine, however… Well, the Dust lab was now undergoing spontaneous renovations!
I was also well aware that she tried to sneak into my room that night to ambush me and Didi (couldn’t sleep, wonder why…). I only sent her packing out of respect for Alice in the neighboring room. Barbara thankfully confiscated her stolen coffee the next morning. But not without a fight that woke up the entire campus. She still succeeded, thank Didi for that. Cass on caffeine was a bit too much, even for me.
That’s all to say, things at Beacon a couple of weeks in were good. But if I wanted them to stay that way, I knew there was still something more to do. A bit of practical, preemptive problem-solving was needed to keep the problems from cropping up. And I didn’t want to risk putting it off any longer.
Two weeks into our vacation, Didi and I set out to deal with the little ‘Salem’ issue. But first, we made a quick pitstop to give the Grimm Queen’s primary underling something of a reality check.
IIIII
— Cinder Fall —
“More to the left. I don’t want to see its face,” Cinder lazily drawled.
Her minions did as directed. It was so hard to find good help. So much whining or refusing or moral grandstanding.
‘But that’s impossible!’
‘I can’t do that to an innocent!’
‘That goes against everything good and holy in the world!’
Sheep… Nothing was impossible. Nobody was innocent. Naught was considered ‘good’ or ‘holy’. Good riddance to the weaklings, the unfaithful, the so-called principled. Cinder disposed of them, burnt them to ashes. She had no need for sheep. No, Cinder needed hounds, trained, bloodthirsty, and beautifully cynical.
“Hmm… No, I’ve changed my mind. It looked better with the light on it. We’ll just have to cut off its head so I don’t have to look at the face.”
“Can I do the honors, Cinder~?”
“You may.”
Ah, Emerald. So eager to please… Cinder’s current help was… sufficient. They certainly didn’t shy away from getting their hands dirty. Emerald was loyal. Devoted. Fanatic. Wholly hers, within and without. Just as Cinder preferred, just as she needed. That usefully lovestruck girl would follow her to the ends of the world and jump off the edge if Cinder asked.
“Put your back into it, Em! Getting through the spinal column can be tough, even for such a talented thief,” Mercury joked in his usual dark way.
Mercury… Mercury was less mindfully devoted. But Cinder could count on his pragmatism, apathy, and mercenary nature. So long as he was getting paid, Mercury was content. In that way, his lack of ambition was just as reliable as Emerald’s devotion.
Roman and Neo, however… Cinder scowled. She could hardly call them her creatures. They worked for her, but no amount of pure pay would ensure their complete loyalty. They would forever look out for themselves and their own ambitions, first and foremost. Knowing that, Cinder could work around them. But it… irked her to rely on the unreliable.
So as useful as they were, Cinder tended to avoid them unless necessary. She would always prefer to surround herself with things she could control, be they her creatures or… the messages she sent.
The thing on the wall was one such message. Cinder didn’t know its name. She didn’t care to learn. All the information she needed was that it was a rat. One of Roman’s goons with decidedly split loyalties. By rat-trapping it and pinning it where Roman’s so-called ‘organization’ could see, Cinder sent three satisfying messages.
The first was to Roman, “Mind your fodder, or I will.”
The second was to the goons, “Nowhere is safe, especially not your boss’s quote-unquote protection.”
The third was to the rat’s other employers, the Vale Police, it seemed, “Snooping and snitching have consequences. Must I escalate further?”
Mmm, it was always satisfying to exercise her power and send messages~… The ugly sight of a single, bleeding, crucified rat was a price she’d happily pay for that satisfaction. She was in control here. Cinder Fall. No one else. Even the legendary Roman Torchwick was made to yield under her yoke.
Control and power were the only things that warmed her cold heart these days. Ironic, considering her inflammatory Semblance and ambitions. But sitting in a warehouse they’d hijacked from Roman with her minions and a bloody example for her to enjoy, Cinder felt as close to warm and fuzzy as she suspected she still could. But, of course, there were always bigger things to take her focus.
That damned Maiden still lived somehow. Otherwise, Cinder would’ve come into her rightful Magic already. The wannabe witch was likely sequestered within Beacon. A vegetable kept alive by Ozpin’s ‘inexhaustible mercy’. Cinder needed a way to finish the job. And removing a whole slew of pieces from the board at the same time would be… just excellent~…
She pondered over the problem, sitting in enforced silence with one leg crossed over the other. She didn’t miss the chance to tease Emerald, of course. Those eyes were following every shift of Cinder’s (obviously) perfect thighs. How amusing, how adorable~…
Leading on Emerald proved to be a suitably minor distraction from her plotting and scheming. And necessary. It wouldn’t do to lose such a useful catch when it was already on the line. And Emerald’s unsubtly drooling expression was a mollifying prize as Cinder found herself making little progress in her plotting and scheming.
Eventually, she just huffed, “There’s nothing else to it. We’ll have to infiltrate Beacon directly.”
“Oh, Cinder, Cinder, Cinder~… I’m afraid I can’t allow you to do that this time around.”
Cinder was on her feet in an instant at the intruding voice. Her weapon, Midnight, practically sprang into her hands in its dual-sword form. They burned with her Semblance, already ready to fight. Emerald was slower to react, but ready to fight by Cinder’s side all the same. Mercury didn’t even bother getting up.
When she whipped around toward the voice, Cinder found herself glaring at an infuriatingly delicious couple. All black and silver and good looks. Dark, walking sex, both of them. Oh, how Cinder wished to take them and break them to her will. She still might… But unfortunately, they were already presenting themselves as enemies.
“Who are you?” Cinder hissed. “Volunteers wishing to go the same way as the rat?!”
“Rat?” The man cocked his head, as if looking dangerously, curiously sexy would stop Cinder from cutting him open from navel to sternum! Fool! Damnable Fool…
“I believe she means the poor expired man on the wall, Sean dear,” The woman said, shaking her head sadly.
“Ah, that kind of rat!” Sean snapped his fingers in realization, sparing his partner an amused and loving look. “Thank you, Didi. That did clear things up for me.”
“It’s unfortunate,” Didi sighed. “But cruel and painful deaths have just as much a place in the natural order as peaceful ones.”
“Who. Are. Yo-…!” Cinder began to demand again, infuriated at being ignored for a mere rat. She brought herself up short. “No… I know you. One of Ozpin’s guard dogs…”
Sean just waved, “Hello, Cinder. I have a name, too. Do you know it?”
“Sean Caine-Arc,” Cinder recited, now much more wary. “Death Knight. Legion. You are known, even to my Master.”
“Now, doesn’t that just make me feel all special inside~?” Sean chuckled. “Hear that, my Death? Even her dark Master knows to fear me.”
Didi covered her mouth and tittered, “As she should.”
Cinder just glared at them both. ‘My Death’? MY DEATH…?! Magnificent! Deplorably magnificent! Entirely unfair! She felt sick to her stomach and vicariously thrilled at the same time!
“H-Have some respect!” Emerald snapped, only stuttering slightly. “Cinder doesn’t fear anything! Anything at all!”
“Oh, but she does,” Sean shook his head with amusement. “Isn’t that right, Cinder~? You know better than most that there is plenty to fear in this world. Tell me~… Do your little underlings know who they’re really working for?”
Cinder continued to glare, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she just asked, “… What do you want, Death Knight?”
“An exchange of words,” Sean answered freely. “Nothing more. I simply thought I’d take a few moments to speak to you before Didi and I deal with your Master once and for all.”
Cinder scoffed at the top of her lungs, “Ha! You have a death wish, then. Very well. I suppose I can listen to the last words of such an impressive foe.”
Something she’d said set the dark and mysterious couple laughing. A genuine joke shared between them. Cinder and her minions were left on the outside looking in. Infuriating. Unacceptable.
“What?!” She barked. “What’s so funny?!”
Didi simply smiled at her, a terribly earnest thing that set Cinder’s stomach aflutter against her will. “Oh, child~… Why would we wish for something we already have? Something we already are? You know nothing, Cinder Fall…”
Cinder scowled, “I know violence is bound to get a straight answer from you both! Emerald! Mercury! Bring them for me to burn and break until they speak the truth…”
Emerald sprang into action, but Mercury stayed his hand, “Yeeeaaahhhh… no. They’ve got, like, complete confidence in ‘em. I’m not about to fuck with that ‘cause you can’t be bothered to indulge a bit of patience and good-faith conversation.”
“Canny one, isn’t he?” Sean smirked.
“Fine! I’ll dirty my own hands!” Cinder furiously declared.
Emerald was ahead of her. She hadn’t hesitated for a moment. Her Semblance was undoubtedly worming its way into the Death Knight’s head. His very mind would betray him as Emerald took his throat for her mistress. Cinder, her blades burning with Aura and half-realized Magic, focused on the woman, Didi.
Immediately, it all went wrong. Cinder’s rightfully stolen half-Magic DIED an ignoble Death. The enhancement she willed upon her Aura never came. Her fireballs sputtered into nothingness before they could appear. Even the Light of her Soul dimmed submissively as if it couldn’t bear rising against Cinder’s chosen opponent. The result was unnatural and viscerally horrifying. Cinder’s precious power was smothered in the cradle, and she was left without control over her very self.
It was all done with the simplest of looks from Didi. No raised hand. No flared Aura or activated Semblance. Just a simple stare to steal Cinder’s vaunted control, just a simple stare to render Cinder utterly weak.
Emerald didn’t fare any better against Sean. Her Hallucinations failed to find any purchase in his mind. His gaze didn’t waver from her charge. And when her sharp sickles reached for his bare neck, Emerald was frozen in place by nothingness. Her form flickered as if her Hallucinations were made real and reversed back on her. A blink later, she was back at her starting place as if she’d never charged at all.
“That-…!” Cinder struggled futilely against the Death of Her Control, unable to muster a moved muscle. But still, her focus was on the somewhat known quantity in the room, “That’s not your Semblance! What are you, Death Knight? What have you become?! How, how, how, HOW-?!”
She was struck and shaken to the very core of her being. To be rendered wholly powerless… So much fear, so much futile fury… Yet, as disturbed as she was, Cinder wanted that. Now more than ever. She needed her control back, needed even more beyond. Her head whipped to the woman who suddenly seemed like Death Herself, even more so than her Master ever managed with all her immortal intimidation.
“Give it back! Everything-! Anything-! Whatever you desire! Just return my control, and I am yours!”
“Cinder dear,” Didi sadly shook her head. “You sold your soul once already. Don’t be so quick to do so again.”
Cinder continued to resist, to struggle against herself more than anything else. Cinder continued to get absolutely nowhere, “I’m nothing without it! NOTHING! Just a girl! Just a worm! Don’t-! Don’t, don’t, don’t make me go back…!”
Her last line was a whimper that brought the acknowledgment of her defeat. It brought the worst of her rushing back in, the abused and lonely little girl she’d never managed to fully purge. Cinder went limp, her struggles and resistance ceasing in an instant. Only then did she muster enough control of herself to collapse to her knees. No Aura, no Magic, just… Cinder, no Fall.
She was painfully aware of the eyes on her. Her minions bore witness to her weakness, Mercury just watching, and Emerald frozen as she reached out for her. The idea burned her. But Cinder could do nothing. Nothing to assert her dominance or power or the control she was now so dearly missing.
Then, Didi reached out to her, cupping Cinder’s cheeks with gentle hands and directing her to look up at her, “Child… You’ve never been ‘nothing’. I promise you that much. All Life is ‘something’ by definition. You deem yourself weak. Broken from the beginning. So desperate for anything you can claim as yours. Let me tell you a story. A story you can claim no matter what…”
“No…” Cinder whimpered, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no, wait, wait, wait-!”
Didi pressed right on ahead through her protests, “There was a woman once. Flawed. Wonderful. Perfectly imperfect, as people tend to be. She lived a life like any other. She cried, she laughed, she toiled, and she loved. Oh, how she loved…
“She found herself a lover, a striking man, an ambitious man. Theirs was a steady romance. They came to know and love each other over coincidental meetings, then enjoyable outings, then blissful late nights of passion and pleasure. They lay in bed during lazy mornings, speaking of the future, of the man’s dreams, and of the security he would win for her and their children.
“But she was fearful of losing him to his ambitions. Rightfully so. The couple never got the chance to walk the aisle, to give themselves to each other fully, completely, officially. Death came calling, as she does. His dreams of more, worthy as they were, caught up to him. He still raged until the very end.
“When he was finally laid low, growing cold, he looked up at the stars and the broken moon, hoping his lover was doing the same in his last moments. Miles apart but connected by the night sky, he apologized. He wished her well. He passed without ever knowing that he left a bit of himself behind to grow within her.”
“N-No-…!” She choked on the word.
There were tears in Cinder’s eyes. Stinging, stabbing tears. Still, she listened closely, listened with her whole being. Somewhere inside herself, somehow, she knew what Didi’s story was about. It was a boon and a curse, one her Master would never be willing or even able to give her.
Didi continued, “The woman didn’t learn she was now alone until a full week later. When she did, she cried and cursed, and still, she carried on. She never gave in to her grief. A month passed, and the woman found herself falling sick in the mornings with no one to hold her through it. She was with child, the last legacy of her lover in a world that was so quick to forget him. So alone, so grieving, so unprepared, she vowed to carry the child to term. A child she already loved more than life itself.
“It was far from an easy pregnancy. The woman had no one to lean upon, not anymore. She couldn’t even claim herself a widow, for she had never married. But when she was at her lowest, she put a hand on her swelling stomach and felt her babe, her lover’s babe, the legacy of their love, kick. To her, that child was worth any indignity, any hardship, she could endure.
“When the time came, she birthed a healthy baby girl. One with her mother’s eyes, her father’s nose, and strong, wailing lungs to announce herself to the world under a broken moon. She breathed her first breath in the same hour and minute that her father had breathed his last. The woman named her Cinder, for the last embers of love that hadn’t died when her lover did.
“Cinder was loved fiercely and immediately. She barely left the woman’s side. But as so often happens in this world, darkness encroached to ruin something good and peaceful. The woman got only a scant year with her child before the Grimm-tide came. At Death’s door, the woman escaped. She pushed through her crippling wounds long enough to deliver baby Cinder to the first orphanage she saw.
“Bleeding out beside baby Cinder on the orphanage’s steps, the woman lamented the life she now gave the babe. It would be a cursed existence. An impossible one. She knew the girl likely wouldn’t find good company or true care in a system so eager to forget her as the world had forgotten both of her parents. But she loved her child to her dying breath and prayed for her to survive and thrive regardless. She did all she could, spent her last shreds of strength, to give her babe a chance.
“And you, Cinder… You’ve done exactly what she wanted for you. You’ve survived. You’ve thrived. You’ve lived on through difficulty upon difficulty. I would hardly call that ‘weak’. And certainly, never ‘nothing’. You, Cinder, are your mother’s sacrifice, and your father’s. You, Cinder, are the legacy of a love, beautifully mundane and perfectly imperfect, that the world will never know.”
Cinder wept. She broke. Her whole body was wracked with shakes and shivers. Her very Soul felt brittle and laced with cracks. It was her… Her story… One she never would’ve known… Why?! Why was this world, why was Death, so cruel?! As if she knew her thoughts, Didi joined Cinder on her knees to embrace her, uncaring of any appearances.
Shakily, she managed to choke out a question, “W-What-… What were their names…?”
“Lily and Cole Ell,” Didi gently answered. “Your mother took her lover’s name after he died. They were always married in her heart.”
Unknown, unimportant, unremembered names. Cinder treasured them. Immediately, they became her most valuable possessions. Cinder didn’t know whether to love or hate Didi. She’d broken her. Completely. Cathartically. She despised how much she needed it, and how it left her feeling fuller than before. She loved the gift Didi had given her, all the same.
A name. A simple name. But if she was going to be so broken… that simple name could be all that mattered in Cinder’s world. She didn’t need to make her own. She didn’t need to claim ‘Fall’… She could be who she was, she could be true to the legacy of love Didi spoke of, she could rebuild herself as-… well, ‘Cinder Ell’.
And so, Cinder Fall died in those Deathly arms. And she found herself better off for it, more complete, more true to who she’d always been meant to be.
IIIII
— Salem —
Salem was having a good day…
“You… got splashed by one of the Grimm Pools? And still managed to drag yourself before me?”
Tyrian Callows, that psychotic, cruel, and oh-so-fanatic weapon of hers, gave a disgustingly twisted smile, “Yes, Your Grace! I can be even more useful to you now, I’m sure!”
Salem was having a suspiciously good day.
“And you’re suffering greatly with your new condition?”
“So greatly, Your Grace~!”
“Hmm… That is pleasant to hear.”
By all the unworthy gods, it just didn’t happen. Her cursed existence? Good days? They were the antithesis of each other. But she couldn’t deny being pleased with the way today was developing. Tyrian’s newly Grimm-stained condition was just one of many pleasant surprises.
She didn’t wake that morning. Her condition didn’t allow for sleep in the traditional sense. The most she could do was settle on her throne and ‘space out’. It was a rather unseemly sight. She avoided it when possible. Unfortunately, the lack of sleep just gave her that much more time with her curse.
Still, when the broken moon rose over the Land of Darkness, even Salem had stopped to appreciate its beauty for a moment. She remembered when it was whole. Vaguely, even more vaguely with every year… But she still did. Its destruction had signaled the start of their ruined world. But Salem supposed there was still beauty to be found in ruination as its reflected light cast various shades of pink and purple over the Evernight.
The moment of genuine beauty had been fleeting, but valuable and appreciated all the same. Afterward, Salem moved on to her usual duties. Birthing new Grimm, a constant necessity, something divine made mundane by eons of repetition. But even after millennia, Salem could be surprised.
One of her Beowolves came out… odd. An aberration. They were ugly and simple creatures by nature. This one wasn’t. Instead, it was warped so badly that it came right back around to adorableness. A Beowolf, those terrible, twisted things… It looked more like a puppy. Worse, it had an actually clever mind to it, licking at Salem’s face to use its abnormal cuteness so she wouldn’t simply chuck it back into the pools.
Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. Yet… it worked. Salem found that she couldn’t bear throwing the Grimm pup back. She simply sighed and allowed the little thing to brighten her day. It hadn’t left her side since.
Then, as her duties continued, there were the usual reports that everything outside her Dark Domain was proceeding according to plan. Little Cinder was still optimistic about stealing the Fall Maiden’s powers. Lionheart’s fear was still just as useful and consistent as ever. And Salem even got the pleasant opportunity to feed false information to a listening little crow…
She, of course, sent the Qrow packing soon after. It would be chased all the way back to civilization by particularly nightmarish Grimm for daring to spy on her. But that was enjoyable in itself, as well. A good wild Qrow chase always kept her busy during the sleepless nights.
Despite what she was well used to, Salem’s day continued on like that. Arthur Watts’ cutting wit got a genuine chuckle from her. She took a few moments to fiddle with Magic, as satisfying as ever, and one of the constants of her existence that never lost its shine. She watched a few frontier settlements fall through Grimm eyes, and even managed the rare, rare mercy to let survivors escape to spread their harrowing tales. And the whole time, that accursed, wicked, yipping little pup worked its way into Salem’s good graces, her cold, immortal heart.
It was a surprisingly positive, shockingly acceptable, stunningly exceptional, even, supremely good day. And she was utterly unused to such a thing. ‘Good days’ were alien to her. Unthinkable.
For as long as she could now remember, her existence was one of hate, hate, HATE. Years upon years upon decades upon centuries upon millennia of it clawed away at her guts, at her blood and bone marrow, at the very nerves in her skull until she was painfully, excruciatingly numb. Some, like her once-lover, would say she was now broken. Salem would disagree. She’d always been broken, for Humans were wretched, broken things by nature. It was true for the Humanity she once knew. And it was doubly true for the poor imitation of Humanity that had risen after.
Honestly, Salem scoffed. It was bad enough when Humanity still had their glorious Magicks. Without? Humanity wasn’t just broken, it was unrecognizable. Salem could never consider the new Magic-less masses Human. There was something fundamentally wrong with that. A Human without Magic was a creature Salem could never truly acknowledge.
She didn’t look down on the new Humans. They could do everything her Humans had, apart from the obvious lack of Magic. They were still resilient and ingenious. A threat that couldn’t be dismissed. Salem had a healthy respect for her eternal enemies. She just loathed them with her entire being at the same time.
Salem’s previous ‘good days’ were always ruined in the end. Some reminder or another always cropped up. The day could develop as well as possible. But no ‘good day’ would change the constants of her existence. Accursed immortality. Damnable hatred and numbness. That evil, evil inability to rest at the end of the day…
So, as that ‘good day’ wound down, Salem prepared herself for the usual disappointment. She dismissed her allies, her servants, and settled on her throne. The tortures of thought would come to her soon enough, she was sure. Memories, so many memories… The closest thing to dreaming she had left.
But on her throne that night, Salem’s newest companion happily yipped and played to distract her. That Grimm pup did its best to shoulder a portion of its Master’s eternal burden. A clever and cursed little thing. It kept her from losing herself to ancient memories, and that much was welcome. A small smile even crossed Salem’s face, her tainted beauty.
Smiling softly but genuinely, entertaining her mischievous pup, and suppressing tortured memories like that was how the reaper finally found Salem.
Death came on a gentle wind from the Evernight, ghosting into Salem’s throne room. It didn’t interrupt her abruptly. Simply settled and watched for a while. Slowly, Salem realized there was something in the room with her.
“Who goes there…?” Salem asked aloud, her words barely a whisper. Not for fear or anger, just exhaustion.
A billion different ghosts coalesced before Salem’s eyes. Death after Death she bore and brought over the eons. A few old allies. So many old enemies. Even all of the past iterations of her once-lover. Salem saw no faces, but she knew they were there.
They didn’t come vengefully, as they had every right to, however. Death Herself kept them gentle. Contained. Mere reminders and witnesses in the background.
Salem didn’t resist. She didn’t struggle at all as Death Herself manifested before her. Why would she? From where would she claim the right to do so? Her meeting with Death was long overdue. If anything, Salem… held out hope.
A gentle reaper, clad in black and carried on skeletal wings. It came from smoke and spirits. Looming and defying perception, she was a woman, a goddess, a spectre of the natural order, a skeletal face of the End. She was the most beautiful sight Salem had ever seen. In the face of Death Herself, Salem couldn’t help but smile.
As Death approached, floating and striding and flickering at once, her first words surprised Salem, “… Are you tired?”
Salem nodded with her whole being, “So tired…”
“I understand. Your curse has persisted for much too long. For that, I feel I must apologize.”
“Apologize…?”
“Indeed. You’ve avoided my attention, through little fault of your own. Another cheated me on your behalf. For your immortality alone, you’ve done me no wrong.”
“I’ve done many wrongs in my accursed existence.”
“You have. But merely continuing to exist despite your best efforts is not one of them.”
“That… You bear me no ill will?”
“Not truly. Certainly none that would make me prolong your suffering.”
“Then, has my time finally come…?”
“Your time has finally come, Salem,” Death confirmed.
Relief. Sheer, vindicating relief. It rushed through Salem like a tidal wave, washing away millennia of numbness and pain and hatred. Her curse would come to an end. She didn’t bother denying the truth of the situation to herself. After so long without, Salem would always recognize Death as Death. She could be no one, nothing else.
“Do you have any final requests?” Death asked. “I owe you that much after my negligence.”
She truly did, but Salem couldn’t bring herself to righteously complain with her greatest wish right in front of her. She nearly rushed to tell Death to ‘get on with it’. The puppy’s whimper from her lap brought Salem up short. Surprisingly soulful eyes pouted up at her.
“… Can I keep the puppy?” Salem asked frankly, putting on no airs before Death. “I don’t wish to live a moment longer than I have to, but neither do I wish to abandon this annoyingly adorable abomination.”
Death smiled, “Yes, I think you’ve more than earned a loyal guarding companion for your eternal rest, Salem.”
Salem returned the Deathly smile in kind. She didn’t waste any more time on words. She didn’t need to. She’d been wishing, pleading, begging for this, for an End, since Humanity rose for its second era. No words would express her relief, her gratitude, her closure. Just acceptance.
As Death’s scythe reached out to reap a Soul long overdue, Salem closed her eyes. The sensation, or growing lack of it, was everything she’d daydreamed of for so, so long. Salem faded, already relishing every non-moment to never come.
The last thing she heard was well-wishes from Death and another, “Good night and good rest, Salem.”
Blissful, blissful nonexistence took her. No darkness, no light, Salem fell into beautiful nothingness. Her pup curled up by her side. It watched over its Master in her eternal quietus, her final End. No pesky gods or mortals would interrupt her with it standing vigil. It was elevated to remain with her in quietus, and took to its new duty with the greatest loyalty Salem could’ve asked for. A Glorious Guardian-Puppy God of Salem’s Death and nothing else.
Salem’s last ever thought was spent correcting a prior misconception she’d had, a true smile coming over her face in the End, “It wasn’t just a supremely good day… It was perfect.”
IIIII
Bonus Pics (sauce below)
Comments
darknes12378
Amazing chapter
Kz3838
Thank you for the great chapter, I greatly enjoyed how you wrote the Beacon cast here and the chaos they are going through. Salem's death was wonderfully written, a quite end for that cursed soul. Stay safe out there and keep up the good work!
Asriels
It made Salem alot more human in my eyes
Maxime Cusson
Good night... Salem...
