Chapter 20: Autumn Vale

Lord Murray

"She's on the wrong side of the Bank! No! Advance! We have to save her!" Murray heard his opponent shout in the final moments, a girl in bronze armor like his, from the same far off continent his people had fled years ago. It was a poetic little fight on a stone bridge barely ten people in width. All day there was a clatter of their clashes, his Lion guard smashing hard against their phalanx of javelins and spears. It was in that moment, after Murray's semblance healed him of the initial javelins, the bronze woman, their leader, shouted that peculiar line. She cried it, screamed it, as others of the bronze pulled her away, shouting things that Murray could not hear over the distant cannon fire.

"Charge!" Murray called, knowing not what came next, what mistake he was making. The lion faunus thought this was the moment, a breakdown in command that could mean taking the one major entry into this river town, one entry right into the heart of the Schnee formation.

Each step on that rocky bridge was another person he brought with him, every shouted order, ten more bodies on the pyre, and when he came close, close enough to glare into the horrified emerald eyes of his adversary, he realized they were not on him.

The bridge burst. The force shattered the couple supports, tossed him and his best into the air, rubble slicing him up as he was flung around, limbs uselessly dangling with him, ears shot. Eyes staring, if only for a moment at the distant faunus camp. The hope of his people, Charles' reserves, the airship dreadnaught, everything burned in red and orange, the sky itself burned with the shape of a massive snowflake, dropping quietly onto the ashes below.

Then, there was water. The crash crushed Murray's ribs, water flood his lungs, and the light, really cannon fire, shone bright about him, disappearing as he drifted deeper into the river. Everything was red, his blood tinting the water, mixed with the blood of his kin on that bridge.

Then darkness.

Then his semblance.

Then the light of an autumn day.

"Mr. Murray, husband?" a small voice called out, a child's voice that made him cringe, "You should wake up now."

"I told ya to stop calling me that, think me more like an Uncle please Weizena," Murray groaned, wanting desperately to sleep, not poked awake by a small child. She was a sweet little thing, hair long and gold eyes emerald and gifted with a sunny disposition despite the loneliness that suffocated the air around her. Weizena was last of the noble family that ruled Ruthven, to legally bind his conquest of the town a marriage of convenience was made, one that Murray hoped to annul soon. Children weren't meant to be used like that, inheritance a disgusting nobles game, but at least he hoped to become a father figure to the young girl. It was the least he could do, after all it was the battle of Fort Castle that eliminated her parents, both fighters.

"That's all well and good, but you have to get up," she groaned, but was right. The morning was to be a momentous one in history to be sure, even if it seemed hugely uneventful to the rest of the waking world. Today was the day of the exchange.

"Aye, you're right little one," Murray let out with a mumbled laugh, hand reaching out to pat her small head. It could easily fit in his hand. Such a tiny creature. Thankfully she would be uninvolved in what was to come.

Little time was wasted getting ready. The new lord Murray dressed as he did back when he was merely a chief. Bronze armor with fur lining, claymore of his family tied to his back and a usual happy disposition. No castle would change his soul into something more human, absent of spirit and fire. Didn't stop people from whispering. 'Gold Fang' they were calling him; it wasn't a compliment.

He took his breakfast in relative silence in the cold stone halls of Ruthven, delaying any and all concerns from his holdings, clan, and new properties. So much of his life had been dominated by stabilizing the aftermath of the war. The last year had still had it's share of violence. It was only with Murray that Fort Castle surrendered without a prolonged battle. Still then the damaged countryside became ravaged by war. The question of refugees left unanswered, though most were in favor of the new Mountain Glen settlement as both a way to house the displaced and expand the nation. That was parliament's concern, as well as the restructured council. Murray simply acted as a negotiative agent for the White Fang with the local nobility, handled disputes in town and tried his best to clear the grimm and right the wrongs that four years of warfare had brought to just his area alone. Still it was an exhausting task, one Murray never shirked, never broke a rule. All because today he was tasked to bring Maledetta and the newly born princess of the Faunus to Castle White. The Schnee's would then bring her to Icemarsh, and they would by boat bring her to Vale City. They were never going to make it to Castle White. Ever.

"Maledetta," Murray called, his voice low when he walked into the shared room of the former Queen and her child. She was barred from staying in fort Castle, the new Queen of Vale rightfully feared her, and the Faunus that swore loyalty to her. Instead they intrusted the two of them to Murray. Trusting his word to a human meant more than his love for his people, for his king, was a mistake Parliament was happy to make. "Are ye ready?"

She stood, low light from the autumn sun falling on her through a stained glass mural. The young Queen had always been sick, but birth had made her more ill than ever before. Her body was thin, boney in parts, never able to gain the weight she needed for the two of them. Her form was still elegant despite how she had aged five years in two. She carried such a sad look about her, resting in a wooden lounge chair, a small book in one hand and the baby in the other. "I'm about to be a prisoner Murray, I don't know if people can get ready for that." She still spoke strong however, her voice unchanged, and then there was the baby. A girl, hair black like both their parents. She lost her father's tail, but kept his beautiful amber eyes and small black cat ears, unmistakably faunus. Her skin was paler and soft like her mother, Grewa was her name, her mother named her after Charles' tribe's old word for gray. Her name was a way including them both in their choice. Most importantly though, the child was healthy. "But no, I haven't packed yet."

"Don't worry none, already had all ye need packed for the trip," Murray gave a quick glance towards the door guards, two young Leo, likely loyal, but he made a motion to indicate they should vacate anyways. They needed as few a witness as possible. "Pan took care of it this morn."

"I don't even get to choose what I bring? Murray treat me with some respect," Maledetta demanded in a quiet voice, the baby asleep in her arms. She was an attentive mother of which Murray was grateful.

"Nay, because ya don't know what to bring," Murray answered with a smile, knowing the doors shut behind him, "Mala, Charlie used to call ya that, Mala I do not intend to give ya away to the Schnee. There is a plan, and for it, ye need to listen."

"You only tell me this now?" Maledetta asked with a chuckle, "Who are you selling me to now? Somehow in the last few years I've become even more of an object than before, who would have thought." She was bitter, but it was understandable. The war had robbed her of her agency more than most, but Leo were supposed to break chains. Soon she would be free.

"Mala, I don't know how to be as sneaky as the Taurus, but I do know if ya have a secret, leave not shred. No one knows, only you, I, and yer cousin." Her eyes shined with a momentary glint, cutting right over from the baby to Murray, the smiling giant compared to the two of them. Maledetta was naturally wary of anyone, but that golden knight's loyalty was legendary, and her location a mystery for the last year. Some claimed she, like Azura, had disappeared into the wilds, but Murray knew she was gathering strength, waiting for this chance.

"Armillia?" she asked to be sure. The Cid Family was all but gone, but this must have sounded too sweet to be true. Her reserved attitude was evidence Maledetta was used to profound disappointment.

"Yes," Murray explained, leaning down to speak directly to her, and see the child closer, be reminded why he was risking his position and clan. Looking at the squirming child of Charlie, so restful and sleepy, he was sure. "Armillia and I are gonna fake an ambush, Bandits will 'ave kidnapped you hopin' to collect a reward. In the time it'll take them to find our bandits, killed by the grimm of course, Armillia will take ya to a home, a family of Faunus living in the village of Belladonna, on the outskirts of Fort Castle lands, where the Kingdom ends. There you will wait for Armillia and Azura to come and move ya to a safer place. Eventually we'll return Grewa to the throne once my agents in the White Fang say the capitol is ready for our glorious revolution once again." The plan was imperfect, Armillia hadn't yet located Azura, or a safer home determined. What to do about Maledetta's illness was a concern, half her bag was filled with medicine just to delay it. Still it lit a fire in Murray's belly. This wasn't over. The White Fang would be reborn again when the time was right, one of the few things he and the Taurus agreed on. The crowned lotus would replace the twin axes of Vale as they should. The thought made Murray grin, hoping Charlie was smiling down at him. His love for his king deeper than it ought be, but it would save the child and the kingdom of the Faunus.

"Does the family know who I am?" Maledetta asked, looking deeply concerned. She was skeptical, it made sense to be.

"No, they think you're just a wife of a dead Faunus soldier needin' help raising a child. The' won't know a thing. No loose ends. Only one's knowin' where ya be is me and Armillia."

"And the guards," Maledetta replied looking away from him and towards the window, stained glass that could not allow watchful eyes to spy on them. She would have done well as a Queen, she would do well, if illness did not take her before the time was right.

"They know only what they need, that we are faking an ambush. You'll be bringin' yerself to the house." Murray had planned for this moment, keeping the sign in his head.

"How? I don't know where we are going?" Maledetta asked. Murray replied with a smile, unraveling a map in his pocket, nothing more than the standard map of North Vale. On the western border, where the mountains end, the safety net that has long protected Vale. The town of Belladonna.

"Here. Never say the name aloud, but this is where you'll go. Memorize it," Murray whispered, taking a pen from his pocket. Only Armillia knew the name aside from himself and now Maledetta, but the next piece would be kept secret from even Armillia herself. "The village is large enough to confuse ya, but the home that'll take ye in has an emblem on the door." Murray was no artist, but the design was simple enough for him to make. A nightingale bud, wisped like a fire. Almost like the flaming lotus that came to symbolize Charlie. "Will you remember?"

Maledetta stared deeply into the image, the town, the lines and curves of the nightingale. Burning it in her mind forever, likely to be there long past its worth. A low sigh punctuated the end of her focus, eyes relaxing and directed now to her child. She seemed both sad and happy, caught between a tired frown and a pleasent smirk. "I do, I don't really have much of a choice, seems like I never do. Even here."

"Whatcha mean, to me yer my Queen and I'm a humble servant," he replied with a laugh, not wanting to lose her now. It was all planned,

"If you think Charles or I were anything more than a pair of very unlucky people tied down by persons of ambition like you and Akagura, you are just as dumb as you pretend to be," Maledetta cut, and deep. If Charlie had just listened to him, if the Taurus had just stayed… this wasn't Murray's fault, so he just smiled back. People always liked his smile. "Alright Murray, take me to my new hovel, I am bored of Castles and modern heating." She joked with a very tired smile. Maledetta was always a charming queen.

"Of course, lets go make history again!" Murray announced, perhaps too loudly, but he could not care. He longed for the days riding out with Charlie, fighting the injustice of the world, doing the impossible. Even if it was for a single autumn. It stoked a fire in him. Perhaps one day he would ride again, but with Grewa, in ten years, in twenty, making history with Charlie's daughter, the spirit of their revolution reborn.

Burning the map, leaving no evidence, they rode out just as planned, long before midday. The autumn air blew past cold, but Murray burned like a fire. He felt like a fighter again.

"We're stopping lads!" Murray called out to their caravan of crew. A small detachment came with them, half the size of what was the usual force. The less involved the better, especially the young squire Pan and the entourage that stuck closest to Maledetta. This team of four horseback riders and one personal guard to the former Queen was enough. Murray let his driver stay behind, taking the driver's seat himself. Rifle and grenade to his left, waiting to help make this look like an ambush.

"Is this the spot?" Maledetta asked, though Murray wouldn't answer explicitly. This was one of many, but down the road to fort castle, the familiar highway still just as prone to ambushes. Muddy cliffs to the left, swamp like river basin to the right. How many dust trucks had Charlie hit on this same road? But here Murray was looking for someone suspicious, a human figure at the top of the cliffs. One of Armillia's revolutionaries.

"It is. Take me second's horse. It's the fastest," Murray instructed in a hushed voice. All the guards knew this was a set up, that they were going to let Maledetta go, but the details were left out, making them nervous, more so as figures propagated on the cliff side.

"Alright," Maledetta replied, leaving things as unspoken as possible. Her personal guard helped the young woman down from the back of their former faunus personnel carrier, Grewa tightly bounded to her chest with so much padding, even at full speed the babe would not feel the sudden jolts of movement. Taking the lead horse, black with fine grimm-like markings, Maledetta seemed hesitant, filled with questions, but as the rider loaded up supplies on the steed and as more strangers approached from the cliff, she held her tongue. They could have more words later, when it was safer, when the time was right.

"All's well," Murray whispered, a breath of ease overcoming him. "I assume you are Armillia's crew then?" Murray asked the shadowed figures. They all looked to one, a younger man in black with dark hair and darker eyes. He nodded and kicked down a body. Several actually. This was expected. She was planning on targeting a Schnee unit, use their bodies to pin Maledetta's "kidnapping" as an assassination by the young Friedrich Schnee's orders. After all, the blood feud between him and Maledetta was very public, the fighting spilling into every field but the real one. Buying out mine rights and putting the Cid family further into crisis. It needed to be done.

"Unbag the bodies, lay them about. Make it look real and take pictures!" Murray ordered. The story was the Schnee attacked on the road, nabbed the young woman and child before leaving. Murray's second in command took the lead, pulling up the first body. The first husk was devoid of an arm, amputation too common a sight after a protracted war. But a thought came along with it.

Memory of a boy without an arm, who stood silently by his child master. A boy with dark hair and dark eyes. The boy who looked just like the one that commanded these strangers. A horrible thought confirmed not just by a pair of riders coming down quietly from the cliffs, the familiar sight of Armillia's face revealed by the first corpse's unbagging, or the lightning fast volley of crossbow bolts that hammer down the small crew, unprepared and ill equipped to handle the strike. What really struck Murray, deeply, was the sound of his voice. This Schnee puppet's words.

"Chief Murray, I would advise against moving. I understand your semblance is regeneration, but I would be remiss not to warn you that it will not work in my company. Armillia ignored this, and when her radiance semblance failed, things got out of my hands. Please, stay calm." Murray needn't look far to see where he was in terms of fates. Two riders were slowly drifting off in distance, following Maledetta, his best were dead, he had a gun, but not his sword. It was in the back. There was so many. If he was to surrender, this plan would be undone. They would all be executed, or jailed. The child would not survive.

If he fought, normally it would be without question. He could take any of those bolts and heal, could break them, but how many hunters were with them? Trained to fight monsters and any number of fighters like Murray. Then there was the boy, Zawisza, he claimed he could turn off his semblance. Give Murray a tighter grasp on mortality than he wanted.

Was there ever a choice. Did Charlie stop to decide it was his day to die? If he could do so, such a small weak man. Glory wasn't a choice. There was bigger things than an old lion like him. Grewa, must survive.

The first crossbow struck his side when Murray went for the gun. It called out in a striking pain. His Aura had not blocked it, his healing would not pull it out. So he would die here today. Still. The riders, the riders needed to die.

His aim, despite the pain, his aim was true. First shot burst the pursuers skull. More bolts pierced his back, but the faunus couldn't even think to feel it, pulling the lever on the dust repeater, aiming for the second fighter, her speed picking up to catch up to Maledetta. Trigger pulled, and the Schnee rider never made it. Her body slumping off the horse with a thud. Mala and her baby would make it, she was no longer visible on the horizon. Two perfect shots. Murray was never going to ride onto the field of battle with Grewa it seemed. Never throw down the double Axe of Vale and proclaim a true king for his people. Never breathe the cold and salty air of his clan's homeland in Mistral, liberating his grandfather's grandfather's old home. Still he would die a hero, seeing Charlie soon wherever the heros of their kind fought forever.

"Die all ye tyrants, an' hail to the Bonnie King Charlie!" Murray pumped another shot turning his aim down to his Schnee enemy. Zawisza caught the barrel as it burst. The dust fire round scorching his pretty face, but that metal arm was strong despite his size. Aura not working, Murray grasped one of the grenades, meant to fake an ambush would come to real work. He tossed just one, two arrows piercing his chest as he tossed the metal ball. It landed at the top of the hill, bursting on impact, the fickle things. It killed no one, but frightened the horses, sending everyone one away and dropping even Zawisza to the floor. This was what was needed. Killing henchmen wouldn't buy Mala near as much time as robbing them of their horses, and most importantly this vehicle.

Murray roared, ending abruptly as a bolt pierced his lungs, but not before in his final moments of stretch, the chieftain forces his fist through the ignition, killing the engine for now, tearing his hand asunder no doubt, but finishing the job. He was smiling in the end, though his body ached and screamed. He wanted to laugh, but without air in his lungs, there was no way to make a sound. He soundlessly chuckled, unable to move, as the young boy in black, held him down.

"To tell you the truth Chief Murray," how mad he must've looked, how absolutely disturbed Zawisza must have been, to see the faunus smile, blooded and shot with bolts till he looked like cactus, to see him soundlessly laugh as he put the knife in his throat. The boy must have been absolutely livid. "I was going to kill you either way for what you've done to me."

It hurt, but that was normal to feel as the darkness came and took him. He hoped one day, when Grewa grew up, she would be told of Murray, how deeply he loved her father. How big the dream was. That she should live without regrets. Fighting like her father till the end. Like him. Till they returned to the dust from whence they sprang.

Maledetta Cid

The one thing that most tightly bounded Maledetta to the Faunus, she thought, besides forceful circumstance, is knowing what it meant to be an object. To be chained. It wasn't just the servant that was forced to suffer their position. Charles was king after all, and yet he was a puppet, an object just like her. To be pulled by other puppets. This one long train of puppets pulling on puppets. Everyone has to play, everyone has to do whatever they can to survive and know which strings to pull. Maledetta was forced into marriage, despite respecting Charles, that was only a lucky coincidence. Forced into a war, being on the moral side was again coincidence. Forced into surrendering, twice. Forced to lose her home, once to faunus and again to the Schnee. Forced to have a child, though she loved Grewa in ways she could not begin to measure. Forced to run, Murray's plan wasn't debatable. Being born unable to use Aura, born sick and weak, born to a hostile land, born in the wrong time. All these things rendered Maledetta a non-agent in her life. At any of these point, acting with agency, cutting the strings of her puppet self and being free meant being killed.

And so she was in the town of Belladonna at the edge of the world. Home to under a thousand faunus, a small mine, a huntsman and huntress outpost, and the nightingale on the door of a rather large wooden mill and home. It was connected to the farm, one that fed the hunters that kept the border. The family that met her at the door was faunus, but elder, slightly more wealthy, though you would never consider them of a higher class than poor, but stable enough to take in a child. Give her stability. Save Gerwa.

"Please come in," the woman, and from the looks of it head of the family called out to Maledetta, "Please let me see yer little babe." She was sweet, both of them seemed to be, the couple older, in their forties easily. They were feline faunus like Charles, though their was no relation. They seemed eager to take Grewa into their home. Actually passing her the child was the hardest thing Maledetta had ever done. Watching her hold the sweet girl, still fussing from the shots fired hours ago, the former Queen wanted to break down. She was still heaving from the ride alone, she felt like death, holding that child, and here this old woman was doing it perfectly.

"I don't wish to say anything painful child, but I hear the little ones father passed in the war?" The husband spoke with a finer accent, free of the faunus eccentricities she was used to. Perhaps he was once a merchant? Maledetta didn't spend much time on it. Whoever had attacked Murray were still coming. They had to be.

"Yes, on White River," she answered, in a panic. What if they followed her? Would the town's people be able to defend themselves? Would the hunters camp step in? Would it matter?

"Wouldn't with the good high chief Charlie eh?" the woman asked, rocking Grewa gentle with a worried look. "Not that it changes yer welcome none of course. Us folk gettin' pulled into all kinds of mess."

"No, it was on the Faunus side," Maledetta answered methodically. Her legs were weak, she needed to go.

"Aye, our daughter passed then two. Girl by the name of Swarta," the husband paused to see if it brought a light to Maledetta's eye. It made him sigh to see her shake her head no. It was impossible to remember all the names. "We tried to stop her from going after the fight at Fort Castle, not for love of the high chief of course, but we worried things would end as they did. Least the White Fang are fixing things here. Chief Murray, he neglected to tell us your names, by the way. I was hoping to ask." He was kind, both of them were. Maledetta had to leave.

"I'm sorry," she started, not knowing how one does this, "I have to go collect my other things, there are people who would hurt my child. So please. Never say I was here. To anyone." If Azura came to take the child, if Murray, if Armillia, none would know where Grewa was. Not even them. They wouldn't have her name. Nothing to confess. "I have to go."

She didn't wait for the answer, she knew they would keep Grewa. They called after Maledetta as she ran, out the door of the mill, into the cold fall air. It was raining that thick pre winter rain. A predictable autumn Vale. She was glad for it, The droplets reminded her to wear her hood and hide her face, it washed away the horses muddy hoofprints, and lastly hid her tears, as heaving from what little run she could manage, the puppet cut her strings and rode out to punishment.

The rain continued its torrent, the ice chill soaking straight through the fabric of Maledetta's robes. a frozen black mess. No one died pretty, she supposed.

She had ridden nonstop, pushing her horse to the breaking point. Desperate, she put two villages between her and Belladonna. Landing herself in the forest behind Fort Castle. Maledetta did not care whether the grimm found her first or the people who had attacked Murray, though she supposed if a beowolf had its way it would at least leave things a much more interesting mystery.

Alas it was decided in a forest clearing. Old tents and tables, small trenches and wooden barricades, it was an old military camp. Who it had belonged to, the army of Vale or the faunus rebellion, Maledetta did not know. It was populated now. A rider in black, human, spotted her and blew a horn. She made no effort to run, it did not take long for the others to come. They encircled her like the dark clouds in the thundering skies. She may have seemed brave there, before these assassins, but she was simply tired. If they didn't kill her soon, the cold would. She was woozy, unprepared for this. Illness might win out yet.

"Lady Cid," a young voice called out from the dark, a smiling man with a fresh burn on his face and a touch of red to his clothes, "my name is Zawisza, I work for Mr. Friedrich Schnee. We believe you were forced to go into hiding with your daughter Grewa. We've come to retrieve you." His hand was metal, clutching a crossbow, nevermore arrow head.

"I was," Maledetta admitted, dismounting her horse. Felt wrong to get her blood on the poor thing. Truth was, this was part of the commitment. She couldn't run now, her feet in mud would not take her anywhere. The endurance of a child would not outrun arrows. She was committed to being an agent in her fate. In her child's. "I won't tell you where Grewa is. You can try to torture me, my body will fail before you can get me to tell you. Better to kill me now!" Maledetta was hit with a realization, then a crossbow bolt. Grewa would never know her name. Know her own name. Her mother. She would think she was abandoned by a mother that didn't want her. That filled Maledetta with so much fury, she screamed as she fell to her knees, the bolt caught in her gut. She puked out blood from inside, cried hot tears, and hated. She chose to protect her, yet no child would think herself less loved than what Grewa will grow up to believe. They did this to her.

"I agree with you Ms. Cid." This Zawisza had fired his crossbow alone. His cheery expression, haunting. "Torture doesn't work honestly. You would just name every town you could think of. We'd search for years." Maledetta couldn't manage words, her lower body felt dead already, she was losing herself to the abyss. Yet she could manage a glare, a hateful, hateful, glare. They could have searched for years. Now it would be forever. The one solace to hold this, Grewa would haunt them forever. The faunus princess, they would see her in every dark corner, fear the return of the revolution. Know that any day the faunus could rise up again. The only people in the world that knew were going to be dead and while that little girl would grow up on a farm on the edge of the world, monsters like Friedrich Schnee and the Queen of Vale would shiver and quake at night.

"Here you will pay for what you have done," Zawisza whispered in a quiet judgement, it was calling from the abyss and raindrops fell on her head, "for crimes against the Schnee family, I hereby sentence you to death."

*** I notice I like making circular stories. The first chapter begins with an ambush and ends with an execution. This completes the cycle. Autumn Vale might forever remain my least popular work, burdened by the OC curse and so forth, but its help me learn a lot, and without the few who took the time to read, I wouldnt have finished it. Honestly, this story has shifted and had many cuts, many things I would have changed, but now I'm happy to close AV for good. Special thanks to TCR most of all for not only editing every chapter, but reviewing them with much gusto. Thank you my friend.

The final names are as follows. Murray was named after the scottish chief George Murray who helped the Bonnie prince Charlie in the jacobite rebellions. Maledetta (cursed) and Armillia (Yellow) Cid are named after El Cid, a famous hero knight of Spain, whom Loyalty was endlessly important. Zawisza is named after the Black Knight of Poland, loyal and effective.

I hope you enjoyed if you've read up to this point and I will likely see you in MV as I finish that up. Goodnight all, and to all a good night.

"Summer, look, in the distance you can see Signal!"

"I don't like being on this boat, can we please go home!"

"No Summer, we'll be living on the island for now. But I promise you, we will be back to the capitol as soon as I graduate."

"Not that home. I miss the snow."

" We can go there after Beacon. Depending on what you want to do when you grow up."

"Huntress!"

"Something different, please."

"Can we see Friedrich? He'll be big then! You'll think he'll be tall like Wilhelm?"

"No. To the first not the second."

"Why not?"

"He's a bad man Summer."

"No such thing. He's just lonely."

"What do you mean, no such thing?"

"No human or Faunus is a grimm right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then they all have a soul."