The Road to Freeport
"There we were," Ruby said, her voice a little more than a whisper. She could barely be heard above the crackling of the nearby fire that flickered upon her pale face. "In the middle of the night, surrounded by beowolves!" They had been ursai in Nora's story, but Ren had said that they were actually beowolves, and Ruby thought that beowolves were a little scarier than the slow, rather lumbering ursai in any case.
Calder and Lydia, Yona's little brother and sister, gasped in horror. Their eyes were wide, and their mouths were even wider as they gaped up at Ruby.
They looked so young. So young and so small, ironic as that might seem coming from Ruby Rose. Had she ever been that small? Had she ever been that young? Yes, she had been; Yang had made sure that she could stay that young, at least for a little while.
Thinking of Yang reminded Ruby of something that her sister had used to do, not before bedtime but during the day, sometimes abandoning a story mid-flow. Ruby curled her hands into makeshift claws and growled down at the young Yak faunus. "Grrrr."
Lydia and Calder gasped again, clutching at one another as they recoiled away from her.
"Grrrrr!" Ruby repeated, swinging her head from one to the other, baring her teeth as she snarled at each of them in turn. "Grrrr! Raaar!" she yelled as she leapt to her feet and lunged at them.
The two children screamed in terror as they took to their heels, arms flying out on either side of them as they fled through the camp. They fled, and Ruby pursued them, her arms raised over her head, her hands making claws like a beowolf, growling and snarling as she ran – when she wasn't giggling. The children were laughing as they fled, and it seemed that the whole camp of the Frost Mountain Clan was ringing with laughter to watch their antics.
"I'm going to get you!" Ruby cried as she chased them, but slowly, slowly enough that they could keep away from her. Using her semblance – or even just running as fast as she could – would have been beside the point. Yang could have caught Ruby easily every time they played, but she didn't; she let Ruby get away so that she could keep chasing her up and down the garden. Only when the chase had gone on for a while and Ruby was getting tired would Yang the Big Bad Beowolf catch her and tickle her until she screamed. Sometimes, Dad would sit on the porch and watch their antics and chuckle at them, the way that so many of the Frost Mountain Clan were laughing now.
Lydia yelled, "Yona, help!"
Yona hit Ruby with a flying tackle that knocked her off her feet and bore her to the ground with Yona's weight on top of her. "Yona save day!" Yona proclaimed, her eyes gleaming in the firelight.
Ruby laughed. "Oh no! A huntress!"
"Yona great warrior," Yona said, "but Yona need help finishing off monster!"
Lydia and Calder cheered as they rushed back to the prone and pinned Ruby, piling onto her as she laughed, harder than she had in months, maybe longer. Harder, maybe, than she'd laughed since she was a child herself. The laughter spilled out of Ruby as the children tickled her, and as she wrapped her arms around them, Ruby's mind drifted back to when she had been a child herself and at Yang's mercy.
It might have been nice to be the big sister. Maybe not bigger than Yang, but to have had little sisters like Yona and Lydia and maybe a little brother like Calder.
Ruby found that she could imagine it, so easily. She could imagine herself back home, maybe a few years younger than she was now, or maybe not. She could be Yona's age, or she could be herself. It was summer, and the world was covered in a warming, gentle golden haze. A smell of apple pie wafted out of the open kitchen window.
It was summer, and the sky was golden and the world was full of promise. It would be the Vytal Festival soon, and everyone would be going to Vale to see the fairgrounds and the parades, and Ruby would be fighting in the tournament with her team. But for now, it was summer, and she was home and playing with her sisters. One of them had her eyes, the eyes she shared with Mom, but the other had Dad's blue eyes, and her hair was a blonde so pale that it was almost white.
"Yang!" Ruby cried as they clambered all over her. "Help me!"
Yang laughed at her predicament, watching as the three of them rolled around on the ground. "Nah, you got this, sis," she said. "I believe in you."
"Thanks a lot," Ruby muttered.
There was a flash of white as the door opened, a white cape swirling in the gentle breeze, a white cape that seemed to give off light, or at least reflect the summer sunshine.
"Dinner's ready," Mom declared. "Eden, Alba, stop playing with Ruby and come wash up."
The two younger children showed no inclination to take any notice.
Summer shook her head. "Yang."
"You got it, Mom," Yang said, striding over and effortlessly grabbing the younger girls, wrapping her arms around their waists as she lifted them, kicking and screaming into the air. "Come on, you little terrors, let's go."
Ruby picked herself up and dusted herself off. "I had that," she declared.
"Sure you did, sis," Yang said, with amusement in her voice.
Mom smiled at them, such a fond smile, and as warm as the sunshine. She waited for them at the door as Yang put down their little sisters and let them run inside. Inside to where Dad was sitting in a spindly wooden rocking chair, rocking back and forth as he fed their little brother out of a bottle.
"Ruby?" Yona asked. "Why crying?"
Ruby blinked. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks, the tears that she hadn't noticed because she'd been so caught up in her fantasy of the life that could have been.
The life that should have been.
The life that had been stolen from her and Dad. For a moment, Ruby was filled with a sudden anger, a flame burning inside of her, a fury more savage than any beowolf possessed at all that had been stolen from them: Mom, Yang, the promise of a future filled with love and happiness. Anger at Salem, at Sunset… at the whole world that was so cruel to dreams.
But then, the anger burned itself out as swiftly as it had sprung up inside of her, leaving behind only the ashes of sorrow within and the tears streaming down her face.
Ruby smiled, in spite of her tears. "Don't lose one another, okay, Yona? You have to hold on to what's important, because if you don't… it might not be there anymore."
"Yona understand," Yona said, as she laid her head on Ruby's chest and wrapped her arms around her. "It okay for Ruby to cry."
Ruby held all three faunus siblings a little tighter as the tears kept falling.
Sunset leaned against a tree, one that had sprung up a little way from the rest of the wood, a tree that grew within the boundaries of the Frost Mountain camp. Sunset leaned against that tree, her arms folded, and listened as Ruby's exuberant laughter turned to sobs of loss.
Sunset closed her eyes and asked forgiveness of any power that might grant it to her.
I'm so sorry, Ruby.
"What trouble, Sunset Shimmer?"
Sunset opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder to see that Prince Rutherford had stolen upon her. "You are stealthier than you look, my prince."
"And Sunset Shimmer unhappier than would let others know," Prince Rutherford said.
Sunset snorted. "I think that my unhappiness is fairly well known amongst this company. But… I am a leader, of sorts, and I wouldn’t force it upon others, not when they enjoy the excellent hospitality of your camp."
"Leadership can be lonesome," Prince Rutherford agreed. "Except for other leaders."
Sunset was silent for a moment. "I… I have not heard Ruby laugh like that in quite some time," she said softly. "It is sad, if not surprising, that it ended all too soon."
"Sunset care about Ruby more than rest of Sunset's companions," Prince Rutherford observed.
"There are some in this company I hold dear, and others… as terrible as it is, there are others whose passing would grieve me little," Sunset admitted, "save that they would stand as testament to my failures. As for Ruby… she is the sister that I never had. I… love her, and for a time, I believe that she loved me, too."
"But not now?" Prince Rutherford asked.
Sunset shook her head. "Not now," she agreed. "I… I ruined it. I did something that she could not forgive, and still less can she forgive me for the consequences that flowed from the act. How can she love me as a sister when I got her actual sister killed?"
Prince Rutherford contemplated for a moment and said, "Hard for any leader to bear loss, but harder for those close to one you lost. Sunset and Ruby saved Yona, but what of others Sunset and Ruby did not save? Small comfort that they feast with gods. Families may hate Rutherford, but Rutherford not be sad or angry. That what it mean to be leader."
"I take your point, but fear I cannot take your advice," Sunset murmured. "If I cease to regret my actions, if I cease to regret what I have lost in consequence of my actions… then I will be truly lost." She paused for a moment. "You know, my prince, somehow, I can't see us getting an early start on the road to Freeport tomorrow."
Prince Rutherford let out a rich, booming laugh. "No, Sunset Shimmer, much to sleep off in morning. Come! Have ale with Rutherford. Frost Mountain Clan teach Sunset to drink deep ere Frost Mountain Clain get to Freeport."
Sunset chuckled. "I would rather have information than an ale. What is this Freeport, and what of this Sun Queen who rules from it? Has she no name?"
"No name that Rutherford know," he replied. "Nor other chiefs of clans who come to Freeport and bend knee to Sun Queen. No face either. Sun Queen hide face behind mask in council or send out Dawn to speak with clans with Sun Queen voice." He paused and glanced over his shoulder suspiciously. "People say Sun Queen sorceress. Folk say Sun Queen go about wearing many guises, say Sun Queen travels land and spies on clans and towns and steadings."
"She wouldn't need to wear many guises to do that if nobody knows what she looks like," Sunset replied. Which made it all the more plausible that she could do as described, if she wished to keep an eye upon her sometimes reluctant and recalcitrant subjects. "Does she… appear to know your plans? Or what is being said amongst your people?"
Prince Rutherford nodded gloomily. "It said amongst clans and villages. Sun Queen is sorceress."
The Sun Queen is a sneak, more like. "What makes you say that she's a sorceress?"
"They say it," Rutherford informed her. "Say Sun Queen has old blood, has power. Rutherford not seen such, only heard Sun Queen talk and scheme, but it said about her."
Rumour then, and wild accusation. There is no magic in the world that is not Equestrian in origin, save only the Maidens, and she is not a Maiden. Sunset was reasonably sure of that; Pyrrha was the Fall Maiden, the Spring Maiden was missing but somewhere in Anima with the Branwen tribe, and Professor Ozpin had seemed confident in the whereabouts of Summer and Winter. Unless the Sun Queen was, like Sunset, another wanderer from Equestria who had found their way here to Remnant.
Something to ask Twilight about.
"Is she a good queen?" Sunset asked.
"Sun Queen is queen," Prince Rutherford replied. "Would make land kingdom, like cage on other side of mountains. Sun Queen say she make us strong, make us organised, but Rutherford know that Frost Mountain Clan have lived for generations without kingdom or organising. Sun Queen say she rule for our own good, but Rutherford…" – he looked around, as if he was afraid the Sun Queen was nearby, listening to his every word – "Rutherford say Sun Queen wish to rule so Sun Queen can call herself Sun Queen and rule over clan and town and hall."
"The two are not mutually exclusive," Sunset observed. "Will she help us, do you think?"
"That, Rutherford not know," Prince Rutherford said. "But fates say Sunset must go to Freeport with friends, so Sunset must hope that fates are on Sunset's side."
"I do hope that, constantly," Sunset replied. I hope that as much as I hope for forgiveness. "Thank you, Prince Rutherford; that's been very helpful."
Prince Rutherford inclined his head. "And now," he prodded, "the ale?"
Sunset grinned. "Why not?" she replied. "And now the ale."
Prince Rutherford brought Sunset to a large fire, where a great crowd of clansfolk were already gathered. Cardin was there, looking a little ruddy-faced already, trying to arm wrestle a yak faunus who looked twice his size. When he was defeated, Cardin drained his wooden tankard of ale – his opponent did likewise – and yelled 'again!' to the great cheers of all those watching.
"Here," Prince Rutherford handed her a mug of ale. "Skol!"
"Mud in your eye," Sunset muttered as she drank, and so did he. The ale was sweet upon her tongue and felt light in her head.
It was hard to say much about what happened next, other than that there was ale.
The only thing that Sunset really remembered was Taiyang Xiao Long putting her to bed at the end of the night; Sunset caught a glimpse of Ruby looking at her, watching her, seeming amused at her predicament and a little concerned, before she went out like a light and knew no more.
Sami watched Torchwick.
She, as befitting someone who might get blood-eagled if she looked at the wrong person the wrong way, was keeping her distance from the crowds, but the same could not be said of Roman Torchwick. He had found a group of young Frost Mountain men and joined them around their fire, where they had introduced him to the game of Bones, a gambling game played with carved animals bones, deer or reindeer or the like. Torchwick had apparently explained the civilised concept of strip poker to the tribesmen – with the result that he was losing more and more of his outfit by the moment as his luck went from bad to worse, until – with his exasperated familiar looking on – he was down to his hat and his underwear. He shivered a little in front of the fire, yet looked supremely unconcerned as he downed his ale and called for another, apparently oblivious to the laughter of the young men all around him.
And then his luck turned.
Or rather, he actually started playing the game the way it was meant to be played, and before too long, he had won back not only all of his clothes but a horned helmet, a dagger with a whalebone handle, several gold arm rings, and a torc in the shape of a serpent which Torchwick placed around Neo's neck with a grin. He laughed as the girl pranced up and down with it on, striking several parodies of 'ladylike' posture before bowing decorously to the assembled company.
"How?" one of the members of the Frost Mountain clan demanded. "How Roman Torchwick luck turn so fast?"
"'Luck'? Luck had nothing to do with it," Torchwick said. "It's called a hustle, kids; maybe your parents will know what that means. But for me, I think I'll take my hard-earned winnings and enjoy an early night." He got up, swaying a little from the ale. "Thanks for the entertainment, fellas; come, Neo."
Neo had a smirk on her face as she took his hand and led him away to find a place to sleep.
How can anyone manage to hustle at a game they've genuinely never played before?
Note to self: never gamble with that guy.
Not that I've got anything to gamble with, right now.
Sami's hand went to the knife at her belt. It was very plain, little more than a glorified kitchen carving knife. She kind of wished she had that whalebone dagger; now that was a knife.
Sami's hand itched, badly enough to make her consider the possibility of slitting either Torchwick or Sunset's throats while they were sleeping – after all, there'd be no better time than when they were drunk, right? – but the chances of her getting past Neo were slight – that girl was tougher than she looked or Sami's antlers were made of rubber – and if she killed Sunset, well… she wouldn't count on living much longer by the time Cinder was through with her.
She would just have to wait. Bide her time. Have patience.
That didn't come easy for someone like her, but she could do it.
She just had to focus on the long game and the reward at the end of the road.
She felt Jack approaching from behind her. His face was a little red. "And you were worried this place would be dangerous," he said genially.
"They're softer than I expected," Sami admitted, "but there's a reason I'm keeping a low profile."
"I thought that was just because you were a buzzkill."
Sami looked over her shoulder to glare at him. "You heard what they said when they saw me: blood must have blood. You know what that means?"
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Jack replied. "An eye for an eye and all that stuff."
"Eye for eye, life for life," Sami agreed. "That's the way it is amongst the tribes. That's the way it is in this land you think is so great. Maybe the fact that Sunset saved the little kid's life would have bought an out for me in any case, but this Sun Queen… I want to meet her. I want to meet the person who can take tradition stretching back thousands of years and say 'no, blood must not have blood; we're doing things differently from now on.' I don't know who she is, but she must really be something to bend Frost Mountain and Fall Forest and all the tribes like that."
"I can't say I like the sound of it," Jack replied. "From what I hear, she's just making this place into another Vale, with all the same problems."
"It's just starting up."
"Well, that just means it will take them a little while, maybe," Jack said, "but mark my words, in a couple of generations, the grandkids of the people close to the Sun Queen will be strutting around like they're better than everyone else, like they're entitled to take what they want from the rest."
"Tribe chiefs already strut around like they're better than everyone else, so what's the difference?" Sami asked.
"The difference is… the difference is I'd rather have someone take what's mine because he can beat me in a fair fight than because he's got ancestors."
"You say that, but you wouldn't actually like it any better."
Jack snorted. "If you like Vale and hate this place so much, then why were you in jail? Why weren't you leading a perfect, law-abiding life?"
"Because I wasn't willing to be on the bottom," Sami told him sharply. "Not in my tribe, not in Vale. Sure, I killed people; I killed them because I could, because they had something I wanted. Because that's how I was raised out here. But I'm not going to pretend it makes me some perfect person."
Jack laughed. "But you won't stop, either?"
"Will you?" Sami asked.
Jack shrugged. "I could," he declared. "Once I get what I want."
Sami smirked. "Well, that's the thing, isn't it? What do we want?"
"Freedom," Jack said. "That's what I want. Nobody able to mess with me."
"That's not freedom; that's power."
"Not if I don't want to interfere with no one else," Jack insisted.
"Fine, sure, you want freedom."
"What about you?"
"What do I want?" Sami asked. "I… I guess I haven't figured it out yet," she admitted. "But I want the freedom to find out."
Cinder wiped a tear from her eye.
She wasn't even sure why she was crying. Truth to tell, she felt a little ashamed of it. She ought to have been above such things.
No, that was not right; at least, it was not a thing to be wished for. There had been a time when she had not cried, but that had been when she had been a little less than human. Sunset had saved her from that, restored her humanity, and with that restoration came a restoration of her ability to cry.
That said, Cinder was glad that there was no one she knew personally around to see the tear drip down her cheek before she wiped it away.
Cinder was sitting in a quieter part of the camp, away from the most raucus revelry, listening to the music of an instrument called – she had been told in a swift, hushed voice by a nearby woman – a yovidaphone. It looked like a bag with horns sticking out of it, and by all rights, it probably should have sounded absolutely ghastly. Strangely, however, it did not; rather, in the hands of the white-haired old woman playing it, the instrument had such a sweet but melancholy air that it was both a salve to Cinder's soul and a reminder of the emptiness that lay within. All around her, Cinder saw similar expressions upon the faces of the faunus and humans of the Frost Mountain Clan as they swayed back and forth gently to the heavy sound.
Cinder herself… though she had never heard anything quite like the yovidaphone before, the sound of it seemed to whisk her back to Argus and the days of her youth, when her father was incapable of acting but in her best interests and her mother's arms were strong enough to shelter her from all the cruelty of the world.
Cinder could stand it no longer. She could not sit here and listen to this sound that seemed to carry all the sorrow of her past within it. She got up and muttered her excuses as she pushed through the crowd, trying to get away from the sound that was both so lovely and so terrible to her.
She could hear Ruby laughing some distance away, but she did not particularly wish to go there either, nor did Ruby wish for Cinder's company, she was sure. Instead, she wandered around the edge of the wagon kraal until she came across Yona's aged grandmother, white-haired and wrinkled, sitting alone in front of a fire, darning a poncho.
"This hardly seems a place of honour for the wife of the former chief," Cinder observed.
Athelwyn looked up at her, her wrinkled mouth smiling. "But it quiet place for wife and mother and grandmother to finish sewing," she pointed out.
Cinder snorted. "Is that a courteous way of telling me to leave you be?"
"Cinder sit if Cinder wish," Athelwyn replied. "But Cinder not hover; it distracts Athelwyn."
"Very well," Cinder said softly, and she squatted down upon the ground by Athelwyn, watching the needle glinting in the firelight as the old woman brought it up and down, dragging the thread behind to close up the tear in the garment. "Is this a sign of your diminished status, or did you do this drudgery even when you were the princess of this tribe."
"'Princess'?" Athelwyn said. "Frost Mountain Clan not know princess. Athelwyn prince's wife. Now prince has no wife. But Athelwyn always sewn." She glanced at Cinder. "In great kingdom, does princess have handmaidens do sewing for her?"
Cinder laughed bitterly. "There are as few princesses who bear the name in Vale or any other kingdom as there are in the Frost Mountain Clan," she replied. "Although there are a few you might call 'princess.' In a similar vein, none of them have what you would call a handmaiden, still less a cluster of them, but… yes, they have others who would do such work."
"Then what work do they do?" Athelwyn asked.
"It depends," Cinder said. "Some fight, others do… little of anything."
"In Frost Mountain Clan, all must work, saving little children," Athelwyn declared. "Athelwyn too old to hunt or forage, and not enough to read the fates of passing strangers." She once more looked at Cinder with that aged smile upon her face. "Athelwyn must make Athelwyn useful, and this thing that Athelwyn can do for family."
The corner of Cinder's lip twitched ever so slightly. "My father used to darn my mother's socks," she said. "He could have just brought her new ones, but it was as if… as if he wanted to do something for her, even if it was a very small thing."
"What Cinder's mother do?"
"She was a warrior," Cinder said. "She soared through the sky in a machine made of steel and fought the grimm above the clouds."
"Cinder's mother be proud of Cinder Fall then; fight grimm on ground."
Cinder snorted. "No," she said at once, "my mother would not be proud of me. Not after what I have done." She fell silent for a moment, watching the needle rise and fall. "May… may I try it?"
Athelwyn raised one curious eyebrow. "Cinder wish to sew Rutherford's poncho?"
"I learnt from… I learnt in my father's house," Cinder said. "It has been… suggested to me that I should take it up again." She paused. "I have the strength to hunt, to fight," she admitted, "but I am… I do not know if I wish to do so. It is a smaller thing, but I would like to see if there is something else that I could do."
Athelwyn shook her head. "Are no big things or small things, only things to be done and willing heart to do them. Cinder's mother fought in sky, Cinder's father darned socks for Cinder's mother, but Athelwyn thinks that Cinder's mother glad of warm feet while Cinder's mother high up in sky, looking for grimm."
"I'm not sure that Sunset would agree," Cinder murmured, "but I can't live my entire life in Sunset's shadow. May I?"
"Athelwyn not mind resting Athelwyn's fingers," Athelwyn muttered as she handed the poncho, needle, and thread to Cinder.
Cinder hadn't done a great deal of sewing since she was a servant in the house of her stepmother. She hadn't done any sewing since the Beacon dance, when she had sewn herself a dress augmented with dust for her attack on the CCT. And yet, when she took the needle between her fingertips, it was as though her hand had been rendered complete. A part of her fingers that had been missing for so long had been restored to her.
A sense of peace stole over her as she set to work repairing the tear in the poncho.
The Frost Mountain Clan set off by about noon the next day, when most of its members – and guests – were fit to walk and only a few, thankfully not including Sunset, were still in such a state that they had to be put in the wagons with the supplies and the children. They set off east, travelling along the edge of the wood, with their carts and animals forming a great column in the centre and warriors ranging on either side for protection from any sudden emergence of grimm or bandits.
This land had once been part of the Kingdom of Vale, for all the kingdom's claim upon it had been novel and tenuous. The Empire of Mistral, too, had laid claim to it. The Great War had been fought over this land, had been fought through this land; at one time, great Mistralian armies had marched westward from the sea towards the mountains. Yet what remained of any of that? There was no road to follow, not even the remnants of one; the Frost Mountain Clan did not travel along what endured of a great road that Vale or Mistral had driven through the wilderness. Sunset saw no trace of the railways that the Mistralians and their Mantle allies had built to supply and reinforce their armies at the eastern front. Nature had reclaimed this land, and the few people who yet dwelt in it did so at nature's leave. Or so it seemed to Sunset as she walked along, part of a nomadic host traversing a desolate landscape, more fit for kings to go mad on than for sensible people to try and live in. The woods might offer some sustenance, but they also offered so much cover to the grimm it was a minor marvel that none of the foraging parties sent into the trees encountered them.
Ruby seemed to feel it too. She walked by the side of the wagon containing Yona and her younger siblings, and as she walked, she told them stories about Vale and about the things they had across the mountains that seemed like such wonders to the young faunus girl.
Sunset stayed close and listened. Ruby seemed more animated talking to Yona than she had… since the Battle of Vale, in all honesty. Yona – and the little ones – seemed able to distract Ruby from her loss in ways that Sunset could not. Just listening to her talk about airships and trains, explaining how tens, hundreds of people were able to be carried faster than the swiftest horse – or even through the sky itself – brought a slight smile to Sunset's face. A regretful smile that she had not been able to effect this transformation in Ruby, but a smile nonetheless.
And then Ruby got caught up in describing the mechanics of how trains and airships worked, completely losing Yona, let alone the younger kids, and that brought a different kind of smile to Sunset's face.
But the moment there was the slightest stirring from the woods, Ruby would turn that way with a snap, Crescent Rose unfolding, finger upon the trigger, instantly alert to the dangers posed by this land.
After a few days' travel, they entered land that was a little more liveable, or perhaps it would be fairer to say that it was more suitable for settled living, of the kind that the Frost Mountain Clan affected to despise. And yet, when Sunset questioned Yona gently upon the subject, she admitted with a red face that the clan did, indeed, trade with the towns and villages for goods and crops, bartering with the furs and skins and the animals that the clan's hunters slew on their expeditions into the deep, dark forests like the ones that they had just left behind.
And so it was that they arrived at Windstad Manor, a small, stout steading consisting of a great hall with a thatched roof and three high towers rising above it, from which a man might watch the stars, contemplate the mystery of things, or keep watch for approaching danger from three of the cardinal directions. The entire estate was surrounded by a wooden palisade and a ditch, which would have provided no obstacle to huntsmen and precious little to grimm, but would serve to deter aura-less and opportunistic bandits. Cows and sheep and chickens could be heard upon the other side of the palisade, hidden behind the wooden wall. The gates were shut, and before them were mounted the skulls of bears and wolves upon stout wooden poles with ancient runes Sunset could not read carved into the wood.
"Curses," Prince Rutherford explained to her. "On any who violate Beorn's steading."
"Who is this Beorn?" Sunset asked. "And why has he shut the gates in your face?"
"Beorn is wizard, or so Beorn say," Rutherford declared. "Beorn say he have old blood, but Rutherford not see magic."
"Are there a lot of people who claim to have the old blood in this part of the world?"
"More than have old blood," Prince Rutherford observed wryly. "Or got use from old blood at least."
Sunset smirked. "And what is the old blood, if you don't mind me asking?"
Prince Rutherford looked at her strangely. "Sunset not know what old blood is?"
Sunset shrugged. "There is none left in Vale, or if there is, no one talks about it."
Prince Rutherford nodded. "Old blood," he began, "old blood is old. Many stories. Men make gods angry. Gods decide to kill men. Some men hide, survive gods. That is old blood."
Sunset frowned. "Then... are not all men old blood?"
"Rutherford not know," Rutherford admitted. "Sunset need ask someone wiser than Rutherford, knows more stories."
"I see," Sunset murmured. Probably all nonsense anyway. Professor Ozpin never mentioned any of this. "So… to go back a little… why are the gates closed?"
"Because Beorn have only few people in steading," Rutherford explained. "Family, steward, housecarls. Beorn afraid of size of Frost Mountain Clan. Will not open gates to any except Freeport Rangers."
"Who serve the Sun Queen, I presume?" Sunset asked.
Rutherford nodded. "Sun Queen soldiers. Ride out. Keep peace. Enforce Sun Queen's will. Collect Sun Queen's taxes. Sun Queen rule as far as Rangers ride."
"Makes sense," Sunset replied. "Makes more sense than why you decided to stop here when the master of the house has no intention of dealing with you."
Rutherford laughed. "Beorn shut gates because Beorn worried by strength of Frost Mountain Clan, but Rutherford wait until Rutherford's friend Beorn remember that Rutherford is good friend and that Beorn have nothing to fear from Rutherford and that Beorn not want to make Rutherford angry. When Beorn remember, Beorn will open Beorn's gates, and Beorn and Rutherford will trade for things before Frost Mountain Clan head on to Freeport."
"Uncle Prince Rutherford!" Yona cried as she ran towards them, Ruby effortlessly keeping pace beside her as they crossed the camp the Frost Mountain Clan were establishing beyond the walls of Windstad Manor. "Uncle Prince Rutherford, Rangers approaching."
Prince Rutherford's expression tensed, and he immediately headed towards the edge of the kraal that his clan was establishing, leaving Sunset, Ruby, and Yona behind. He did not tell them to follow, but they followed regardless, trailing after him for courtesy's sake, Ruby helping Yona – the only one of the four who had not unlocked her aura – along so that she did not fall too far behind.
They reached the burgeoning, nascent wagon circle, and out beyond on the untended moor land, Sunset could see what must surely be the Rangers: twenty horsemen, swathed in furs and clad in leather and metal plates, some of which looked like armour and other of which looked as though they had been looted from a junkyard. Their horses were similarly armoured in such patchwork plates, and they were led by a dark-haired woman in a yellow cloak that streamed out behind her as she rode along.
As the riders approached, Sunset could see that they were armed with a mixture of blades – some seeming very crude and others more professionally forged – bows, crossbows, and antique guns from the great war or thereabouts.
The riders halted about twenty feet away from the kraal of the Frost Mountain Clan. Their leader, the young woman in the yellow cape, rode forward a few more paces. "Rutherford of the Frost Mountain Clan," she called. "We did not think to find you so far east this time of year."
"Rutherford not think to be headed to Freeport this time of year," he replied, "but Rutherford know Rutherford cannot escape Rutherford's destiny, no more than any man."
The girl in the yellow cape began to laugh, until she caught sight of Ruby and Sunset, standing beside Prince Rutherford, and the laughter died upon her lips.
Sunset didn't feel much like laughing herself. The woman in yellow had only one eye, the other being covered by a black patch, but the eye she did possess gleamed silver. Not grey, but silver, the same silver that shone so bright in Ruby's eyes. It was unmistakable.
Nor had Ruby's eyes escaped the notice of the other girl. "Rutherford, who is this girl?" she demanded.
"My name… my name is Ruby Rose," Ruby said tremulously. "I'm a guest of these people."
"Ruby speaks the truth, Sunsprite," Rutherford added. "Ruby and Sunset and their companions are guests of Frost Mountain Clan. Saved life of Brother-Daughter Yona."
Yona silently took Ruby by the hand, squeezing it with gentle reassurance.
"Ruby Rose," the woman, Sunsprite, muttered. "Are you the daughter of Summer Rose?"
"You knew my mom?" Ruby asked.
"No," Sunsprite admitted. "But my mother was her sister, and if you speak the truth, then you are my cousin, and we have much to discuss."
Ruby stared in wide-eyed awe, and Sunset could understand why. A cousin? Summer Rose had a sister? Did her father even know about this? And if he did, why hadn’t he mentioned it?
Another silver-eyed warrior, someone who might be able to teach Ruby how to master her silver eyes.
A part of her family she hadn’t known she’d had until that moment.
It was incredible, it was amazing, it was… wonderful for her. Ruby deserved to have something good happen to her.
Another rider, her face hidden beneath the hood of her cloak of Kendal green, urged her horse forwards and whispered into Sunsprite’s ear.
Sunsprite nodded. She pointed at Sunset. “And you, Sunset, is that your name?”
“It is,” she replied. “Sunset Shimmer.”
Sunsprite nodded. “My companion would have a word with you, some way off.”
Sunset’s eyes narrowed, and she tried to see what lay underneath the hood of Sunsprite’s ‘companion,’ but she could not. The other rider had already turned away too much.
It was a little odd, that they should want to talk to Sunset in private, but why should they have ill-intentions towards Sunset? And if they did, she ought to be a match for any single backwoods varmint pledged to the service of a tin pot would-be queen. She was Sunset Shimmer, after all. Rustic warriors hardly frightened her.
“Very well,” she said quietly, leaping up on top of the wagon that stood between her and the riders. The wood creaked a little as she walked across it, jumping down onto the other side as the rider who was so desirous to speak with her began to ride away from the kraal, leaving Sunset to follow.
Sunset trudged after her, walking beside the churned-up earth left in the wake of the bay horse, until they were some distance from the kraal and the other rangers.
Only then did the rider dismount and walk around their horse to face Sunset. She pulled down her hood and removed the dark bandana covering her face.
Now it was Sunset’s turn to gawp. Her own face stared back at her, only shorn of any trace of faunus features. A human Sunset Shimmer. The human Sunset Shimmer. The Sunset Shimmer of this world, native to Remnant.
Staring right at her.
“Not too long ago, I would have asked how you were wearing my face, but now I think I know,” the other Sunset said, a broad smile upon her face. “You’re the other me, aren’t you? The Sunset Shimmer from Equestria?”