“And then they said something about a Remnant. Could you believe it?”
Her hand was in the middle of combing Ruby’s fur when she caught the words. Nestled inside an alleyway in the village where her last job wrapped up; she preferred to keep from prying eyes, Brothers forbid with the Ever After dubbing her deeds heroic.
She’d never felt like a hero.
“Called themselves humans, they did. What even is a Huntress? Some sort of purpose?”
The Reclusive Reaper looked up, ignoring the wide eyes of her jackalope companion to watch the two Afterans from the shadows. Of the Ever After’s inhabitants, it was rare to find toys this far from Castletown, yet she recognized the few calling this quaint village home; they’re shaped like outlines barely resembling the silhouettes of humans, like two discolored gingerbread cookies.
But that’s not important.
The only thing that matters is what they said.
She withdrew her hand from Ruby to tighten it around the rusted hilt of Crescent Rose while running the other across her scythe's dull and chipped blade; the last time she’d tried to shift the weapon into its compact form, the gears made an awful grinding noise, leaving Crescent Rose inoperable for days. She couldn’t take another risk like that. Besides, after running out of ammo ages ago, attempting to use the rifle was pointless.
In the fifty years she’s spent trapped in this place, only two people ever mentioned a place called Remnant– Lewis and Alex.
No. Don’t think about them.
But even the two of them never mentioned Huntresses.
Figuring she wouldn’t learn anything useful by hanging back like this, the Reclusive Reaper rose, raising the hood of her tattered cloak and reluctantly leaving behind the crate that served as her makeshift seat. Ensuring Crescent Rose was secure across her back and the Relic of Knowledge remained on her tool belt, she motioned for Ruby to follow, and it was little time before they were upon the Afterans.
The two toys startled at her approach before quickly smiling with joy. “Hello, Reclusive Reaper!” They exclaimed simultaneously. Off-putting as it was sometimes, especially with how… exuberant some Afterans could be, having renown like hers had its perks when the time was right.
Like now, for example.
“What can you tell me about these… humans,” her voice is hoarse, and it's any wonder, with her going months without speaking. She’d prefer to avoid it whenever possible, but if the Afterans are talking about who she thinks they are, well…
Like it or not, the Reclusive Reaper can’t sit this one out.
The shorter toy–colored a hideous lime green with the visage of a young boy–began first, “There was a commotion in the marketplace! The Red Prince had to shut the square down!” As they spoke, the Afteran’s frame teetered from side to side.
Such displays would defy logic, if not for the fact she lived inside a fairy tale.
“Was anyone hurt,” the Reclusive Reaper couldn’t help but ask as one of her hands unconsciously sought Ruby’s fur for comfort; her companion padded closer until their sides touched, letting out a soft trill. She couldn’t muster the energy but hoped the jackalope could sense her appreciation.
“Not a soul, thank the Tree for that,” the second toy, larger in shape and colored maroon, spoke in a relieved tone. “If not for the Castle Guard acting so quickly…” they trailed off, shuddering.
With a clear schedule and a better idea of what happened, the Reclusive Reaper kneeled, bowing to the two toys. “I’ll check in to make sure everyone’s safe, you have my word.”
At her words, the toy’s expressions brightened, the pair teetering with joy and gratitude. “Thank you, Reclusive Reaper,” they spoke as one before hopping off.
Turning to her companion, she observed Ruby’s imploring look and nodded. “It has to be them.”
Ruby gave another trill, nuzzling their snout against the Reclusive Reaper’s palm.
“Besides,” she said, “I did promise you some of your favorite fruit after we finished this last job. Sound good?” Much to her relief, her companion was all too happy to set off.
What felt like a lifetime ago–four girls out of their depth tried to save the world. Four fell, but one got lost along the way. After so long… she’d begun to fear…
No. Don’t think about them.
Taking an uncomfortable amount of time to mount the jackalope despite Ruby’s assistance in lowering herself, the Reclusive Reaper lamented how old she was getting.
If a way back to Remnant was even possible, she might not have enough time left to see Salem finished.
Shaking away the troublesome thought, she urged her companion toward the Red Prince’s Castle, and to the marketplace, hoping she wasn’t too late in finding the three mysterious Huntresses.
It’d been too long without Yang’s overbearing presence as her sister, Blake’s level-headedness no matter what, and Weiss’...
And Weiss.
…
Unfortunately, upon arriving at the Marketplace, the Reclusive Reaper found nothing but startled Afterans, a troop of soldiers, and a general scene of chaos. In the distance, she spotted Jinxy, frantically running around his destroyed cart, stolen valuables strewn across the ground. The raccoon seemed unaware of the three soldiers impatiently standing close by, looking very displeased.
Huh… that was new.
Once a soldier caught sight of her, the troop grabbed their fake horses and galloped over, drawing into formation before her. “Greetings, Reclusive Reaper,” the garrison chorused as one, saluting. “Have you come to assist in the cleanup?”
She shrugged, dismounting Ruby with a wince as her knees creaked in protest. Damn, she was getting too old for this. “Heard about the commotion and came as soon as I heard.” Looking around, she surveyed the aftermath; never in all her years of living in the Ever After had the marketplace looked this… messy.
“Humans did this?”
“Oh, yes!” One of the soldiers from the back stepped forward while everyone else stepped aside, giving them space. Though they looked the same as every other soldier she had met, this one sported a comically oversized bandage across his torso. “Three, in fact! Called themselves Huntresses,” they spoke with a hint of trepidation, gesturing to the wrapping. “The tallest used some sort of magic with that yellow wand of hers.”
If they didn’t before, the soldiers certainly had the Reclusive Reaper’s attention now. “And this… ‘wand,’ you mentioned, what did it look like?”
The soldier looked confused–like the answer was obvious. “Why, an arm!” A chorus of agreements from the remaining garrison joined in, saying much the same.
Meanwhile, the Reclusive Reaper was finding it hard to breathe. It- It couldn’t be…
Managing the miracle of finding her voice, she asked, “What happened then?”
Turning, the soldier pointed to one of the Marketplace’s three exits–one she knew led to a dense forest. “Well, after the thief stole my trophy, she and the two others ran off. Sadly, we couldn’t find them, and the cleanup couldn’t wait.”
“I see,” the Reclusive Reaper managed, deep in thought.
It was now or never.
“Could you tell me what they looked like? These… Huntresses?”
Thinking for a moment, the soldier tapped his chin. “Hmm… well, if you asked me, I’d say they looked just like you.” Incredibly helpful.
“Anything else,” she pressed, dreading and anticipating what could come next.
“Yellow hair!” Another soldier exclaimed.
“And a cat!”
Before the Reclusive Reaper’s heart could stop, that particular soldier was knocked upside the head by another.
“Just the ears, you fool. She looked like the rest.”
“One of them carried a sword. Used all sorts of fancy lights and magic.” Someone else from the garrison said.
That was all she needed for the world to come crashing down.
Fifty years without a sign and here they were at last–the rest of Team WBY. Unwilling to idle around any longer, she shakily struggled but ultimately settled herself atop Ruby. If they left now, her companion might have some luck tracking a sent; despite that, she found herself hesitating.
“Does anyone need immediate attention?”
“Thankfully, no,” the head of the troop stepped forward, shaking their head. “Will you be off to find them?”
She nodded, “I’ll let you know if we catch anything.”
The lead soldier nodded, stomping as the rest of the garrison followed suit. “Best of luck, then, Reclusive Reaper.”
Not waiting to hear the rest, she urged Ruby forward faster than ever before.
She wouldn’t miss this chance.
…
After what felt like hours, they arrived at the foot of a massive lake separating the Night Market from the rest of this acre. Much as the Reclusive Reaper would have preferred a moment to breathe, to process the possibility of finally seeing her second family after so long apart, something else caused her heart to sink.
The market was burning, drowning the night air with the sounds of screaming.
Recognizing the unmistakable screeching of Jabberwalkers, she urged Ruby to wade across the water, unwilling to waste time with a lily pad float.
The seconds it took for them to reach the market propper felt like a lifetime, made that much harder by what awaits them.
Once across, she hastily urged Ruby toward the top of the market; from there, she could herd whoever might be left inside the secret passage leading to another acre.
At the sound of a struggle further up another level, and the unmistakable gunfire of Ember Celica, the pair were off faster than ever. Racing past the wreckage, her heart sunk further at the damage.
If the Castletown Marketplace was a mess, the Night Market would be hell–destruction littered every inch she could see, painting the entire space with the ruins of shops and trade stalls.
No matter how hard they looked, not a single Afteran could be found; she fought back tears while convincing herself everyone merely got away.
She couldn’t consider the alternative. Wouldn’t.
Despite her hatred for Neo burning stronger than ever–knowing the likely presence of Jabberwalkers ambushing what remained of Team WBY couldn’t be a coincidence–she buried those feelings for later.
Careening around a corner, she spotted three impossible figures, and everything stopped.
Fifty years changed the Reclusive Reaper in too many ways to count, yet Yang, Blake, and Weiss looked the same since Atlas. Her sister gave no ground, matching the… abnormally large Jabberwalker she faced punch for punch. Her best friend darted in and out of the shadows, keeping calm amidst the chaos. And her partner–
Weiss looked every bit as regal and magnificent as she had in Atlas. Even now, her form was impeccable, making masterful use of her Dust and summons to create openings for the others.
In the past, such a sight would have sent her cheeks warming and her voice stuttering, but those days were behind her. The Reclusive Reaper wasn’t a little girl anymore, she was a grown woman who failed everyone around her, making mistake after mistake until it was too late. Maybe no one else would agree, but all these decades later, she thought getting older all alone wasting a fitting penance for what she deserved.
She’d never stop paying for her mistakes, and that was justified.
‘Later,’ she mentally screamed. Nothing else mattered besides finishing this fight.
After the Reclusive Reaper ensured her hood obscured her face, she counted the seconds until Ruby closed the distance between their prey. Once they were close enough, she lept through the air, subtly using her semblance to propel herself forward without dissolving into petals. In slow motion, she withdrew Crescent Rose from her back, lodging the blade around the Jabberwalker’s neck, pivoting all her weight to throw the beast into a nearby collum, finishing the maneuver by landing in a crouch, Crescent Rose poised behind her, ready to strike–a pose she’d modeled by taking some inspiration from Tyrian. Mere steps away, Ruby spun in a half circle, ready to join the fight.
Knowing the damned thing wouldn’t go down that easily, she turned to Team WBY, pointedly ignoring Blake’s wide-eyed stare as she exclaimed in shock, “It’s the Reclusive Reaper!”
Growling, she fought back a biting response that was too harsh; Weiss, Blake, and Yang hadn’t suffered through fifty years of agonizing solitude–they were still kids compared to her.
“You’re Huntresses, aren’t you?!” Her tone held nothing back, words punctuated by the Jabberwalker climbing from the rubble. “Then fight!”
Now free, the beast began to circle them, its masked face never leaving the Reclusive Reaper. “PREY. FOUND. KILL.”
There was as good a sign as any Neo still hadn’t forgotten their last encounter. Baring her teeth, she shot forward, if the others couldn’t get their sh*t together, it didn’t matter; this wasn’t her first encounter against a Jabberwalker, but she’d make sure the bastard died for what it’d done to the Market.
Despite how hard it was for her to move in battle as the years passed, she kept spry when it mattered, deftly ducking and weaving between the beast’s claws and tail as she kept up the pressure with her scythe.
Struck by an impulse, she hooked Neo’s puppet by the ribcage, sweeping its legs and sending it straight toward the path of Yang’s oncoming fist. Her chest heaving with exertion, the Reclusive Reaper turned, finding Team WBY already engaging the Jabberwalker.
Given a second to breathe, she was content to let the kids handle things until she caught her breath; Ruby happily provided their side to lean against, warily eying their prey with narrowed eyes.
Still, it didn’t last, and the three quickly lost ground, even with the advantage in numbers. Dashing back into the fight, she stowed her scythe away, favoring her fists; Atlas’ fall taught her how foolish it was to rely solely on her weapon, so she’d dedicated years to learning hand-to-hand.
Delivering a devastating uppercut that left the Jabberwalker stumbling back while shaking its head, she decided now would be the best time for a lesson.
“Jabberwalkers are unpredictable, always targeting whomever they deem the strongest threat.” Side-stepping a swipe from its tail, she pinned the limb with her boot, successfully baiting the thing into lunging at her with extended jaws. “Me,” she growled, showing the beast her own–metaphorical–fangs.
“That doesn’t mean it behaves any differently from a cornered– f*ck!” Having grabbed the thing by the horns, she aimed to stun it further by kneeing the jaw, only to fall on her ass as she felt something in her knee pop after the strike.
Biting back a second swear, she growled as the Jabberwalker snatched her from the ground, lifting her skyward as its monstrous grip tightened around her ribcage, breaking at least two ribs.
Of course, her Aura was acting up; would’ve been nice if Ozpin or Port told students it could happen with age.
Gritting her teeth as she took the brunt of the attack, she fought back a smile as Yang and the others spurred into action at the opportunity.
So they had been paying attention. Good.
“Strong as it is– argh!” She groaned as it slammed her against the ground, breaking something else. “Jabberwalkers avoid targeting more than one person at a time– f*ck!” Sick of the roughhousing, she pushed off from her prone position, raising the beast high enough for Blake’s ribbon to snag its horns, wrenching the thing off her and toward Weiss’ smaller-than-usual Arma Gigas. It screeched in agony as the summon’s blade tore through its torso, pinning it to the ground.
“Cooperation and teamwork work best. Or, outmaneuvering it can also do the trick.”
Ignoring the beast’s pointless struggle, the Reclusive Reaper found her footing with Ruby’s assistance. Retrieving her scythe, she pushed Yang aside and out of the way with her shoulder to face the Jabberwalker head-on, placing one foot on the back of the neck while lodging Crescent Rose’s blade against the underside.
“No matter what,” she turned to Team WBY, keeping her head low enough to keep her hooded face obscured.
“Never leave one alive.” She wrenched her scythe skyward, silently savoring the sound of its last dying breaths. Eventually, the thing shattered into unmistakable pink light. The Reclusive Reaper remained unperturbed–chaos always followed in the assassin’s wake.
Blake voiced what the trio was all thinking. “Neo?!”
As the post-battle high began to fade, the reality of what led the Reclusive Reaper to find the trio came crashing down. Looking around, no section of the Night Market remained untouched. It was a miracle the whole thing was still standing, but what hit the hardest was the silence.
Every Afteran that called this place their home was gone.
Anger flooding her veins–at failing to save even a single life of the people in the Ever After who looked to her for safety–she scowled, ready to tear into Weiss, Blake, and Yang for being so careless.
Jinn tried to whisper reassurances in her ear, but she tuned the sound out.
“Honestly!” She growled, grabbing their attention. “What were you–” Her voice trailed off as her senses kicked into overdrive.
It couldn’t be… “How the hell?!”
Sure enough, a sea of Jabberwalkers began scaling the Market on all sides.
“sh*t! No time.” Readying Crescent Rose, she caught Ruby’s eye and nodded. Once more atop the jackalope, she threw a hand toward the path leading to the top. “Move!”
Team WBY remained frozen.
“f*cking move it!” Screaming her voice hoarse, the three finally scrambled into action, breaking into a mad dash for the tunnel. Leading the trio, the Reclusive Reaper and Ruby jumped in when necessary to keep any eager Jabberwalkers off the others.
Finally–the tunnel was in sight.
Dismounting from Ruby, the Reclusive Reaper kicked her semblance into overdrive, bursting from one cloud of petals to another until Weiss, Blake, and Yang were secure inside the hideaway. Flying forward, she narrowly dodged an errant swipe of claws, wedging her scythe just in time to hook the open section of the lotus flower, sealing the passage behind them.
Secured, the now-closed passageway didn’t cave under the relentless strikes from what must have been dozens, if not hundreds of Jabberwalkers.
Exhausted, the Reclusive Reaper secured Crescent Rose across her back, brushing past Team WBY to comfort her companion.
Blake visibly trembling in excitement, squeaked, “It’s- It’s you! You’re the Reclusive Reaper!”
Feeling more than a little vindictive for everything she’d just endured, including the suffocating weight of having failed so many Afterans–many who she recognized and knew–the Reclusive Reaper stopped and turned to snap at her. “Do you have any idea how many Afterans died?! How many can’t come back?!”
Blake’s ears pinned back in shock, struggling to process what she’d said.
Uncaring what the others might say, the Reclusive Reaper approached Ruby, scratching her companion behind the ears. “Good job out there, Rubes.” The jackalope delighted at the contact and praise, softly cooing.
“...Rubes?” Yang mumbled, bringing a fresh scowl to the Reclusive Reaper’s lips.
Was Team WBY entirely to blame for the Night Market’s disaster? No.
But with everything piled up over the last day alone, she wasn’t thinking clearly.
Lowering the hood of her cloak, she caught Yang’s sharp inhale, Blake’s incoherent stuttering, and Weiss’ shocked gasp.
Turning to face them, she adjusted her view to compensate for her bad eye, truly taking the three in for the first time. Team WBY looked like they’d seen a ghost; granted, they had. The Reclusive Reaper didn’t speak, remaining silent as they put the pieces together.
Eventually, Yang reached out, her prosthetic trembling; she flinched, inwardly scowling knowing her sister caught it.
“...Ruby?”
