The Queens of Remnant - Chapter 43 (Patreon)

The quiet, lonely walk offered plenty of time to think about the events leading up to this moment.  Killing Adam.  Meeting Weiss.  Traveling to Vale.  Meeting the queens.  Meeting Yang.

Blake had made plenty of mistakes in her lifetime and had plenty of regrets.  As she calmly approached what could be her death, however, she realized that she wouldn’t change a thing.  For as horrible as some of those memories were and as awful as they made her feel, the culmination of those decisions brought her here.

If she died today, she died willingly.  And she died knowing that somehow, someway, she’d made a difference.

If Cecelia won, that difference might be wholly negative.  The Badlands would be destroyed, who knew what would happen to Vale, and history would either erase Blake or note her as the cause of it all.

While clumps of dirt crunched under her feet, she looked up at Vale and resolved not to let that future come to pass.  She might die today, but Cecelia wouldn’t win.  Vale would revert to its rightful leaders, the Badlands would restore itself with help or on its own, and peace would finally be restored.

But that outcome depended largely on Ruby.

Blake wasn’t used to relying on someone else for such a pivotal task, but she trusted that Ruby would succeed.  All she had to do was give Ruby enough time to see it through.

Easier said than done when facing an army that loomed larger and more foreboding with every step.  Blake’s pace never faltered - she refused to show any hint of fear - but her heart raced and her palms grew clammy.  Now that she’d reached the open plains separating the Badlands from Vale, the wind only added to her hyper-awareness.  Half-expecting an attack to accompany every small breeze, she hardened her skin in case that premonition became reality.  Her tired spark protested being forced back into duty so soon, but she prodded it to life the same way she prodded her feet onward.

Even though she was out here by herself, approaching imminent doom by herself, she didn’t feel alone.  Ruby was with her.  Winter, Sun, the Resistance - they were all with her.  They understood that if they couldn’t hold this line, the small settlement behind them would be the first of many to fall.

As she neared Cecelia’s mass of forces though, she grasped what insurmountable odds they faced.  Besides the skirmishes she’d been involuntarily pulled into, she had never fought in a real battle.  She’d certainly never stared down an entire army.

The black-armored mercenaries stood out against the larger backdrop of Vale’s golden Elites.  They might be smaller in number, but their sinister armor marked them as the deadliest of the bunch.  Their crisp, straight lines spoke well of their training, and their forward positioning confirmed that they would be first into the fray.

Blake strained her eyes searching for details, but she couldn’t pick out Cecelia from this distance.  She did, however, notice a disturbance growing on either side of Vale's army.  At first, it looked like nothing more than the wind kicking up dust.  Then the gusts of wind swirled skyward, dragging loose debris with it while growing stronger and stronger.  The soldiers remained motionless, unnerved as towering cyclones hemmed them in on both sides.  Then, in a display that sent terror straight to Blake’s heart, the wind caught fire.

While she approached two flaming tornadoes just waiting to be unleashed, a growing concern tugged at the back of her mind.  Her plan hinged on Cecelia being arrogant enough to want a one-on-one fight, but what if that didn’t happen?  What if Cecelia sent her henchmen to do her dirty work?  Or what if she decided to let those whirlwinds of fire deal with Blake instead?

The worry disappeared when a light breeze swept across Blake’s skin.  The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end, and she hardly had time to drag a shield of rock in front of her before someone slammed into it with enough force to knock her backward. Her body instantly prepared for battle.  Her adrenaline spiked, her heart pounded, and her spark hardened her skin to the point of impenetrable.

But no attack came.  Hearing laughter, she released her hold on that earthen shield and scowled at what she saw.  Standing not twenty feet away from her was the person she’d been waiting for.

“Knew I’d find you here,” Cecelia teased, twirling a blade in one hand while no less than a dozen others lazily swirled around her.  “Scurried right back where you belong, didn’t you?”

Scowling at the insult, Blake resisted the urge to lunge at Cecelia right then and there.  Unfortunately, she couldn’t just get this over with.  She had to keep Cecelia talking, even though Cecelia’s smug, self-righteous smirk was infuriating.  Not only had Cecelia caused Yang too many headaches and heartaches, but her selfishness pushed Yang to the brink of death.  She deserved every bit of retribution headed her way.

“It’s natural to go home when you’re unwelcome,” Blake replied through gritted teeth.  “You should try it sometime.”

“I have a new home now.”  Cecelia sent Vale a meaningful look before smirking at Blake.  “And as soon as you give back what’s mine, I’ll gladly return.  Then you can spend the rest of your miserable life in this dirty shithole.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Really?”  Cecelia arched her brow and scoffed.  “You’d rather die, and let all your friends and family die, than give up your ridiculous little crush?”

“You honestly think I’d do that?” Blake retorted, shaking her head.  “You can’t have Yang because no one can.  She’s dead.”

For a split second, Cecelia’s knives stopped spinning.  Then a deep scowl settled on her lips.

“You’re lying.”

“I wish I was…” Blake whispered.  She would have looked away but was too scared to let her guard down for even a second.  She bit her bottom lip and shook her head instead.  “She had the Phage.  After we left Vale, it got...really bad, really fast, and...that was it.”

“You’re lying!”

Cecelia lashed out so fast that Blake barely had time to block the attack.  Cecelia’s blade struck the rock with a loud clang, but she didn’t follow up with another attack.  She returned to her previous position, giving Blake her undivided, deadly attention now.

“Tell me where she is,” she hissed while every blade she owned angled toward Blake.

“I just told you…she’s dead.”

Remembering the torment Yang went through and the death that actually happened, Blake swallowed around the lump of emotion in her throat.

“You saw her lose control with that dreader,” she added.  “You know she never had any energy, and that she never wanted to leave the palace, and how her spark just...wasn’t the same.  That’s because she couldn’t control it anymore.  It was taking over and she couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

Realization filled Cecelia’s eyes as every observation was pointed out to her.  Yang had been so good at hiding the symptoms that everyone wrote off her changing behavior as nothing more than a fluke.  When taken together and given a name…the culprit was obvious.

“Why else would I be here?” Blake asked, waving an arm toward the desolate space separating the Badlands from Vale.  “Yang’s gone; I left.  What happens in Vale doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

That was a lie, but Cecelia was too distracted to notice.  She didn’t want to believe anything Blake said, but she couldn’t dispute the truth of the Phage.  And if Yang had the Phage...even if Blake was lying and Yang was still alive, she wouldn’t be for long.

Blake never expected to see anguish in Cecelia’s green eyes, but fury quickly replaced any other emotion.  Clenching her jaw and fists, she closed her eyes and screamed toward the sky.  The vicious, feral sound hardly faded before she scowled at Blake.

“This is your fault,” she snarled, her chest rising and falling while one of her knives jabbed forward for emphasis.  “You stole what time she had left.  If you hadn’t come along, then -”

“Then what?” Blake interrupted, tired of being cast as the villain.  “Then you would have saved her?  How?  You didn’t even notice she was sick!  You were too busy thinking about yourself - that’s why you never deserved her.”

Blake spit out those words as emphatically as she felt them.  If Cecelia couldn’t handle hearing the truth, then so be it - Blake was ready to fight. But Cecelia didn’t immediately launch herself into battle.  For a moment, she looked at a loss for what to do next.  The indecision disappeared quickly though, as her expression hardened with a determined scowl.

“I guess this is it then.”

“I guess it is,” Blake replied as they finally reached the inevitable.

While Cecelia passed her blade between her hands and the others grew frighteningly still, a sharp stone sword formed in Blake’s hand.  The weapon paled in comparison to Cecelia’s sinister blades, but the earth had never let Blake down before - it wouldn't start now.  Before either of them made the first move, however, the motionless lines of soldiers began to rustle.  A disturbance moved through the forces, looking like nothing more than an innocent flutter that quickly grew more pressing.

Vale’s fabled Elites suddenly called their sparks into battle - their swords glowing with flames - and the two fire twisters crashed inward on the black-armored mercenaries.

The mercenaries shouted and scattered as the firestorms caved in on them, forcing Cecelia into the first mistake Blake had ever seen her make: she turned around.  Instantly capitalizing on the error, Blake launched forward with every intention of ending this quickly.  She drew her blade back, prepared to strike, and locked Cecelia’s feet in earthen shackles to hold the windwalker in place.

It was almost that easy.

But Cecelia was too smart and quick to fall for the trap.  The instant that she sensed something wrong, she spun around and deflected Blake’s sword.  Blake immediately followed up with a bludgeon of a fist, landing it squarely in Cecelia’s chest with enough force to break her out of her chains and send her crashing to the ground.

Cecelia regained her feet instantly, one hand on the ground and the other clutching her blade, while a bigger battle erupted behind her.  The Elites, fighting for Vale once more, charged at the mercenaries from behind while the mercenaries evaded the swirling flames. Pandemonium burst forth on the sloping stretch of land between Vale and the Badlands as the mercenaries engaged Vale’s army, but Cecelia paid no mind to the fighting behind her - her attention was reserved for Blake.

“Clever bitch,” she sneered before bursting forward so fast that Blake barely blocked in time.  The follow-up was even faster - five different knives flashing at her with lightning quickness and lethal precision.

Blake always assumed that Cecelia was highly skilled, but Cecelia only needed seconds to prove that this was a lopsided fight.  Even though Blake had gained some combat experience over the past few years, it paled in comparison to Cecelia’s.  Their sparks could be equal, but Cecelia had an advantage in skill and ruthlessness - and she intended to use that advantage to end Blake’s life.

Narrowly dodging another set of blades and several slashes that would have taken her head off if she hadn’t scrambled out of the way, Blake gave up any dream of beating Cecelia outright.  She focused on Ruby’s instruction instead: hold out for as long as possible.  That was easier said than done considering she could hardly track Cecelia’s position.

Chaos filled the air while her eyes searched for incoming attacks.  Everything was a jumble of shouts, cries of pain, metal clanging against metal, and the whistling and crackling of sparks crashing against each other.  Cecelia’s free blades shot at Blake from seemingly every direction, twisting and turning in the air before doubling back and trying again.  Then, amongst the disarray, Cecelia appeared as if from thin air and swung her knife toward Blake’s neck.

A split second before that blade dealt a lethal blow, Blake got her own weapon into position to block.  The power in Cecelia’s movements reverberated through her arms while she tried and failed to grab Cecelia’s legs, arms, or anything to slow her down, but Cecelia nimbly leapt out of every snare and seamlessly continued her assault.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve done for her?” she seethed while appearing on Blake’s left and lashing out again - this time nearly sweeping Blake’s legs from underneath her.  “How much I did to prove myself?”

The angry words hardly sank in before Cecelia disappeared.  Blake instinctively turned around, but that was a mistake - two feet planted on her back and sprang off of her with enough force to knock her from her feet.  A blade sliced across her wrist as she was thrown to the ground, but she had no time to even look at the wound as she rolled to her back and found another blade plunging toward her heart.

Without thinking, she shoved the ground on either side of her up and crashed it together above her.  When the knife slammed into the blockade, she hardened the earth so that Cecelia couldn’t pull it free.  Growling in frustration, Cecelia abandoned it entirely and grabbed another one from the air.

Blake’s wrist stung as she scrambled to her feet, but the next onslaught arrived before she was prepared.  Cecelia swiped the knife toward Blake’s neck and, left without another option, Blake raised an arm to protect herself.

The blade slammed into her arm but, thanks to her spark, left nothing more than a thin red cut behind.  She hardly considered a counterattack before Cecelia knocked her off of her feet with a brutal gust of wind.  Her breath left her lungs when she landed hard on her back but, despite being winded, she rolled back to her feet.

Suddenly finding herself face-to-face with one of the mercenaries, she froze.  He didn’t.  He lowered his shoulder and shot at her like a hurricane. He planned to bowl her over, but she stepped back, planted her feet, and called upon every ounce of spark to hold her in place.  As she hardened to the point of impenetrable, his shoulder hit her with a sickening crack.  She didn’t budge; he dropped to the ground in pain.

Quickly taking stock of the situation, she saw that the battle had spilled across the plains.  Tornadoes whipped across the dry ground, picking up and throwing the unsuspecting as if they weighed nothing.  Once-peaceful earth shattered as boulders launched through the air.  Flames lashed through the wind, licked around rock, and sizzled as they turned ice to steam.  The skies rained shards of ice upon the battlefield.  An entire line of mercenaries had been frozen from the neck down, leaving them motionless and stranded while the battle waged around them.

The mercenaries were outnumbered, but they were holding their own.  Despite the odds, they could win.

“Giving up already?”

The taunt hardly reached Blake’s ears before she took control of the ground surrounding her and raised the entire section into the air.  It took an incredible amount of effort but was also a calculated risk.  As soon as she turned around and confirmed that Cecelia had jumped up there with her, she drew another sword out of the ground and prepared for the next onslaught.

The battle waged below them now, leaving no opportunities for distractions.  And with less room to operate, Cecelia couldn’t gain as much momentum with her spark.  Hopefully.

Unfortunately, Cecelia hadn’t lost her quickness.  Her blades whipped through the air as she sliced and slashed at Blake with well-calculated frenzy.  One of the knives nicked Blake’s cheek as she barely ducked out of the way, followed by Cecelia reappearing and aiming at her favorite target - Blake’s neck.

Blake pummeled a boulder into Cecelia’s stomach before the blow landed, knocking Cecelia back and making her even angrier. A snarl slipped through her lips as she shot at Blake, slashed once, dodged Blake’s attempt to block, leapt into the air and landed a heavy kick right on Blake’s sternum. Only Blake’s spark prevented her lungs from being crushed, but she was still knocked backward before regaining her balance.  She hardly set her feet before Cecelia was on her with a flurry of fast, furious attacks unlike anything she’d ever encountered.

She backed away on instinct, struggling to create separation and find time to regroup.  But the attacks kept coming, each as fast as the last, each determined to take her life.  It didn’t take long to realize that Cecelia was shepherding her to the edge of the platform, forcing Blake to expand it under her feet or risk falling off. She couldn’t keep this up for much longer.  Her spark begged for relief, but Cecelia showed no sign of letting up.

So focused on blocking Cecelia’s blades, Blake didn’t notice the greater danger until too late.  The swirling gusts of wind, sweeping back and forth across her, suddenly merged into one and converged on her without warning.  Like being hit by a cyclone, the wind tore her from her feet and threw her off of the platform.

For a moment, she fell as if in slow motion.  She saw the battle in the distance, still waging without an end in sight.  She watched the earthen platform slowly disintegrate under Cecelia’s feet.

Time rapidly caught up as the ground approached.  With little energy left, she barely managed to summon a wave of unpacked soil to cushion her fall.  Even then, her back and shoulder cracked when she hit the ground and tumbled to a stop. Groaning, she gingerly pushed herself to her feet and prepared for more.  Her spark protested - it didn’t want to work anymore - but she had to do something.  Cecelia was walking towards her now, calmly twirling a knife in one hand as if she had all the energy in the world.

Rather than attack, Blake decided that the time had come to protect herself and wait.  Her pride protested, but now wasn’t the time for pride.  She promised Yang that she would return, and she intended to keep that promise.  So, with whatever spark she had left, she lifted a ring of sturdy, indestructible stone columns around her, essentially trapping herself inside a stone prison but keeping Cecelia outside.

Cecelia scoffed and tapped her blade against one of the pillars.

“Think I can’t get through that?” she asked before a strong gust of wind pushed against Blake’s protection.  Blake gritted her teeth at the strength needed to hold them in place, but Cecelia relented and laughed.  She sent her free blades shooting through instead, each zipping closer and closer while Blake batted them away.

“You know, you’re not as good as I thought you’d be,” Cecelia commented, calmly walking around Blake’s cage while her knives provided plenty of harassment.  “What kind of assassin are you, anyway?”

“I’m not an assassin.”

“That explains a lot.  Shame, though.  I was hoping for a challenge.”

“Looks like you aren’t getting anything you want today,” Blake shot back.

“Oh, that’s not true.”  When the stone pillars shuddered from the effort of keeping them in place, Cecelia smirked.  “I’ll get to kill you, and that’s something I’ve wanted to do ever since we met.  Then I’ll tear apart every home and building until I find her.”

When Blake scowled at the threat, Cecelia’s smirk grew.

“Which one are you from?” she asked, waving at the string of settlements in the distance.  “I’ll give that one special attention.”

Reaching the end of her spark, Blake did the only thing she could think of: dropped the pillars, coiled her feet, and launched herself at Cecelia as a small dagger formed in one hand. Cecelia sidestepped the attack, caught Blake’s knife between her elbow and side, twisted around and slammed Blake’s back into the dirt.  Her knee landed on Blake’s chest immediately after, pinning Blake to the ground with no hope of escape.

“Looks like your story ends here,” Cecelia sneered, drawing her blade back.

“Cecelia, stop!”

Ruby’s voice caused a split-second hesitation that Blake capitalized on.  Unaided by her spark, she punched Cecelia squarely in the jaw, knocking the girl off of her just long enough that she could scramble back to her feet. Cecelia was already up and preparing for another attack, but a red blur whipped past Blake and met her halfway.

“Stop!” Ruby ordered again, placing herself between them and shoving Cecelia back with a strong gust of wind.

“Get out of my way.”

“No.”

Scowling, Cecelia tried to fly around Ruby to no avail.  Every time she moved, gale-force winds shoved her further back.  Undeterred, she tried again, and again, pitting her spark against Ruby’s in a battle for dominance.

“Cecelia, stop,” Ruby demanded once more, planting her feet and sending out a twister of wind so strong that it tore Cecelia’s free blades from her control and flung them into the distance.  Cecelia barely got out of the twister’s path before again trying to make it around Ruby, but Ruby flashed in Cecelia’s path and knocked Cecelia right off her feet with a furious gust of wind.  Before hitting the ground, Cecelia recovered mid-air and shot toward Blake.  But, again, Ruby blocked her path.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” Cecelia snarled at the persistent harassment.

“Why don’t you?” Ruby asked while buffeting Cecelia with blasts of wind from all sides, shoving her around and preventing her from dashing away.  Ruby then landed a solid blast directly in Cecelia’s gut, throwing her backward before she tumbled across the ground and rolled back to her feet.

“Because she’d never forgive me!” Cecelia roared, her knuckles white from how tightly she grasped the one blade she had left.

Blake couldn’t believe what she just heard, but Ruby looked at a loss for words.  That moment soon passed, however, and she effortlessly knocked the blade from Cecelia’s hand before shaking her head with an almost sad, almost regretful expression.

“Then why do you keep hurting her?”  When Cecelia had no response, Ruby continued.  “You know why she kept you around so long?  Because she believed you could change.  She believed you could be better.  And you always disappointed her.”

“I gave everyone a choice!” Cecelia argued, raising her voice in frustration.  “They were allowed to leave.  Everything’s ready for her to come back -”

“You thought taking over the palace was the way to get what you wanted??”

For the first time since Blake had met her, Ruby sounded angry.  She proved as much by sending a frustrated gust of wind at Cecelia before waving a hand towards the still-waging battle.

“Look at what you’ve done!  You think she’ll forgive you for this?”

When Cecelia looked at the battle, it wasn’t with pride or vindication.  Something else lingered in her eyes, but Blake refused to believe it was remorse.

Could it be remorse?

Before that answer could be confirmed or dismissed, an unsettling surge swept under Blake’s feet, nearly knocking her off balance as it raced toward the battle.  The earthen wave gained speed as it approached the fighters, swelling out of the ground unlike anything Blake had ever seen. She could do nothing but watch in stunned horror as the growing crest split out of the ground as a torrential wave of sand that coalesced into the form of a monstrous, hollow-eyed dreader.

The creature was even more massive than the one Blake had hunted with Yang - faster, too.  As the nearest fighters stared in terror, it launched at them as a tsunami of unstoppable, unimaginable sand.  The windwalkers dashed out of the way while the others could do nothing but raise their arms above their heads as it fell upon them.

The Elites phased through the dreader like stepping through a waterfall, but those in black armor were swallowed by the ground as the dreader slipped back into the dirt as if it’d never been there at all.  Twenty feet away, enormous sandy jaws burst out and gobbled up two more mercenaries, who disappeared still screaming in fear.

Panic punctuated the air as the mercenaries shouted to each other, trying to regroup as another dreader leaped from the ground.  A plume of fire shot at it, but it hardly reacted while snapping up one of their brethren and whipping its long, scaly tail into another, sending him hurtling into the distance.

While the dreaders cast the mercenaries into disarray, Blake heard even more commotion from behind her.  When she turned toward the Badlands to see what it was, her blood ran cold.

The Atlesian army had mobilized.  The entire army had left the cover of the trees and now galloped toward them, a frozen gust of wind announcing their imminent arrival.  Then, in an even more terrifying display of power, towering soldiers made entirely of ice, each carrying a sword taller than most houses, sprang out of thin air.  The icy giants hemmed in the fighters as the sky opened up and thousands of icicles hurtled to the ground, besieging everyone wearing black.

Suddenly, Cecelia and her forces were vastly outmatched.  She hadn’t expected Ruby.  She hadn’t expected Winter.  Now, the Atlesian army had joined the fray.

“It’s over, Cecelia,” Ruby said while Cecelia watched the Atlesian army close in on her men.  She watched a hailstorm of icicles barraging those who managed to escape the sand.  She watched Vale’s army regroup and recommit to battle.  Then she took a deep breath and let her shoulders slouch with her exhale.

“You’re right.”

Blake braced for the attack as Cecelia took advantage of Ruby’s acceptance and shot toward her.  The last remaining blade, which had laid inconspicuously nearby, flew into Cecelia’s hand as she pulled it back to strike.

In that split second, with Ruby caught off guard and Blake’s spark barely clinging to life, Blake realized that she and Cecelia were different after all.  They were both fighters.  They were survivors.  But, at the end of the day, Cecelia didn’t understand sacrifice.  She didn’t understand selflessness.  And that was why she was surprised when Blake let the knife sink into her shoulder.

The moment of shock was just enough for Blake to lock her fist on the front of Cecelia’s armor and throw her into the ground.  The air left Cecelia’s lungs as her back crashed into the dirt, but she kicked back to her feet as soon as Blake released her.

This time, Blake was ready.  As soon as Cecelia’s feet touched down, Blake shackled them in immovable boots of stone while pulling the knife from her shoulder and pointing it at Cecelia’s throat.

It was over in an instant.  Trapped in a kneeling position, Cecelia glared up at Blake, unafraid even at death’s edge.  Blake clutched her injured arm close to her chest, feeling more pain with every passing second, while watching her blood drip off the tip of the knife.

Ruby stood nearby, ready to support, but she didn’t intervene.  She waited for whatever Blake did next.  The only problem was...Blake didn’t know what to do next.

“You actually love her?” she asked.

“What do you think?” Cecelia shot back.  Then her green eyes lightened, and she frowned at Vale while muttering, “Just get it over with already...”

Blake wasn’t sure that she heard the quiet words correctly, but Cecelia's resigned posture and sudden calmness said that she expected her life to end, and she didn’t fight it.  She just looked at Vale as if it was everywhere she wanted to be, and that gave Blake reason to pause.

She had marked Adam as unredeemable, so she took his life.  She didn’t regret it, but she would always wish that he hadn’t forced her hand.  She wished that he’d given her a reason to believe that he could change, or hope that he could find goodness in his soul.

Yang had seen something redeemable in Cecelia just like she’d seen something redeemable in Blake.  Maybe Yang was wrong, but...maybe she was right. If the situation was reversed, Cecelia wouldn’t hesitate to kill her - Blake knew that.  But she was tired of seeing everyone as irredeemable.  She wanted to believe the way that Yang did.

So she withdrew the knife, released the hold of Cecelia’s legs, and motioned her up.

“Leave.  And take your men with you.”

Briefly, Cecelia couldn't believe the response - she even glanced at Ruby as if it was a trap.  As soon as she realized that Blake was serious, however, she shot to her feet and scowled.

“You’ll regret this.”

“I might,” Blake admitted.  “But I might regret the alternative even more.”

A flurry of indecipherable emotions flickered through Cecelia’s eyes, but she said nothing.  Putting her thumb and index finger to her lips, she whistled - loud and clear for anyone in the vicinity - before disappearing in a gust of wind.  The mercenaries still standing quickly followed and, just like that, the battle ended.

An eerie silence fell over the battlefield while the remaining fighters watched the mercenaries retreat - hopefully headed somewhere far, far away from Vale.  Only when convinced that they wouldn’t turn around did Blake flinch and press a hand to her bleeding shoulder.  The wound didn’t seem life-threatening, but it still hurt like hell.

“You let her go.”

Glancing at the bloody knife in her hands, Blake sighed and threw it aside.

“Yeah.  I guess I did.”

Ruby didn’t voice her opinion, but her understanding expression said plenty.  Before Blake second-guessed herself - that would undoubtedly come later - a gust of cool wind brushed across them.  Winter appeared shortly after and quickly noticed the blood seeping through Blake’s fingers.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her eyes giving away more concern than her tone.

“Just a scratch.”

When Blake lifted her hand away from the injury, which was a tad more serious than a scratch, Winter looked it over.

“I can seal it for now, but someone should stitch it up for you.”

Blake nodded at the idea, so Winter held her hand just above the stab wound and closed her eyes.  Blake’s shoulder became very, very cold as a layer of ice wrapped it from front to back, but the cold numbed some of the pain and slowed the bleeding.

“Thank you,” she said once Winter was done, but Winter simply nodded before turning to Ruby.

“And you?”

After Ruby raised her arms to show that she was uninjured, Winter relaxed with a soft, simple, “Good.”  Blake wouldn’t have expected so much concern from the stoic princess, but the hidden compassion was endearing in its own right.

“Winter!”

Winter’s gaze snapped toward the sound of her name, and Blake’s attention soon followed.  “Is that...?” she began as soon as she spotted the person racing over to them.

“Weiss,” Ruby breathed out.  A smile lifted her lips, and she started hopping up and down, but she stayed in place while Weiss rushed over to Winter, sliding along a path of ice that seamlessly unfurled under her feet.  Winter wasted no time running to her sister and opened her arms right as Weiss leapt into them for a hug.

They were spitting images of each other with their pristine white hair, fair skin, perfect postures, and regal auras.  Right now, however, their ancestry mattered little.  They were just two sisters with tears of joy in their eyes as they hugged each other close. Considering Atlas’ role in the war, Blake never would have imagined being so overjoyed to see the two Atlesian princesses together again.  But Weiss had spared her life, Winter had saved Yang’s - for that and so much more, Blake owed them more than she could hope to repay.

Once the hug ended, Winter set her hands on Weiss’ shoulders before finally letting go.  Weiss glanced at Ruby then, and that was all it took for Ruby to fly over and lift Weiss right off of her feet in a hug.  While Ruby spun Weiss in a giddy circle, Blake joined them.

“What’re you doing here??” Ruby asked after setting Weiss down.

“James and I came to help.”

Weiss gestured to the tall man walking up beside her, who took a good look at Ruby before nodding.

“But you shouldn’t be out here fighting!”

“Just like you shouldn’t be out here fighting!” Weiss retorted.

If Ruby had a rebuttal, she didn’t bother using it.  She kissed Weiss instead, and Blake’s shock grew when Weiss returned the kiss with passion suggesting that they’d been apart for years rather than days.

Before the kiss slipped into uncomfortable territory, Weiss pulled away and ran her fingers through Ruby’s hair.  For a second, she forgot anyone else existed.  Then Winter gently cleared her throat, and Weiss instantly blushed.

“Oh.”  Weiss slid away from Ruby and clutched her hands behind her back.  “Um...you see...”

“I was already aware,” Winter said before smiling at Weiss’ embarrassment.  “If I hadn’t been, that would’ve been quite the surprise.”

Blake had never seen Winter this happy.  Weiss seemed to feel the same, as she beamed at her sister while inconspicuously reaching for Ruby’s hand.  Ruby more than willingly held Weiss’ hand, looking ready to shoot over the moon with excitement.

“Blake!”

Blake hardly had time to search for the source of her name before Sun appeared in front of her.

“You ok?” he asked before noticing the icy bandage covering her shoulder.  “Damn,” he said, whistling softly as he leaned close to look at the wound.  “Think you’ll get a scar?  I’ve heard chicks dig scars.”

When he winked, Blake shook her head and looked him up and down.

“Are you hurt?” she asked as soon as she noticed him leaning weight away from his right foot.

“Good as new!  Except I’m pretty sure I twisted my ankle.  After the fighting stopped, of course.  I tripped over that old root over there -”

By the time he pointed out the offending tree root, Blake was laughing.  Knowing that he was unharmed but still a goof lifted her spirits.  His blinding grin only made her happier.  They’d been through a lot together.  Now, they had one more story to add to the list.

“So...what now?” he asked, swinging his arms and looking around.  Called back into duty, Blake took stock of the fighters remaining in the area and quickly came up with a plan.

“Let’s move the injured back to the settlement since it’s closer.  Have anyone with medical training patch them up.”

“Will do!  And the...uh...the armies?”

Blake didn’t control the armies, so she turned to Ruby for that decision.

“Tell them to regroup near the settlement, too,” Ruby replied.  “But have them sit down or something so they don’t scare everyone.”

“Same for Atlas,” Weiss added with a confident nod.

“Got it.  Messenger boy off to deliver messages!”  Sun hardly took two steps before skidding to a stop in front of James.  “Was that you?  What were those??”

“James isn’t from around here,” Ruby answered on James’ behalf, gently elbowing his side and grinning up at him.  James looked like he tried to stop a smile but failed as a small one lifted the corners of his mouth.  Sun looked miffed by the response but shook his head and hurried off to deliver instructions to the remaining troops.  While he did that, Blake lightly touched the ice on her shoulder and looked toward Menagerie.

Her heart thumped when she thought about Yang, but her longing to be together again was joined by an incredible sense of relief.  A heavy weight had lifted from her shoulders, and the future finally looked promising rather than bleak.  For the first time in forever, she looked forward to what tomorrow would bring.

The war was over.  Cecelia was gone.  The Badlands was saved.  Vale was secure. Yang was alive...and Blake couldn’t wait to see what this new future held for them.