26: Merlin (RWBY SI)[NSFW] by Daniel K. English

Fic type: Si

Si wakes up in remnant with magic.Has a little world-building.

I have posted three chapters for this.

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[NSFW] Merlin (RWBY SI)

Discussion in 'NSFW Creative Writing' started by Daniel K. English, Mar 11, 2018.

Link:https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/merlin-rwby-si.7227/reader

Note:You need an account on questionable questing to access the fic, its free and won't longer than 5 min to make.

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Chapter 1: Alone, but Alive

I am in pain.

My head throbs and my vision blurs. It hurts to think or even breathe. My brain works anyway as it crunches information gathered from my active senses into observations, into thoughts.

I am on the floor. It is wet to my touch.

Blood.

More blood drips from my nose. Enough so that I find it hard to breathe through it.

There is more in my mouth. All my teeth seem present. My lips are not as well off. There is a split swelling my bottom lip. I think my gums are bleeding.

I hear little save the hammering of my heart in my ears. It's like thunder rumbling all the time.

At last, the world stops spinning and I regain enough motor control to move. I prop myself against a wall and let cool air soothe my wounds. I don't know what happened but I am bleeding. I lift my bloodstained shirt to find a bruised belly and no broken skin.

When I am satisfied there is no life-threatening injuries I search my memories for any information as to where I am. All I find is a void.

…​

The panic passes quickly.

My levelheadedness is surprising but welcome. Terror does me nothing but waste time and energy. I am alone as far as I can tell so I need to get working.

Food, water, shelter, and safety.

I test my legs to find that I can walk with a slight limp. I find a pair of slippers amidst the broken glass and wood scattered about. I put them on and explore the unfamiliar house.

Everywhere is dark save the illumination of moonlight coming from outside. Windows are shattered. The ceiling is intact but not the walls. There is a particularly ravaged section in the middle of a hallway. There are gunshot holes and dried blood. I peek inside the room and still my breath when I find the motionless bodies of a man and a woman.

Their bodies are shredded beyond recognition. An animal got to them, it looks like. The stench churns my stomach.

I scavenge sheets from what looks like a bedroom and cover the bodies with them.

Underneath the man is a weapon. A rifle? There is a bayonet attached that looks used. I free the weapon only to find that its bent. The metal is warped and the wooden frame is… cracked? Deep gouges in the wood look like teeth marks.

So the man tries to defend himself against his attacker only to be overwhelmed.

The woman… looks to be an unfortunate casualty.

I leave the office for now.

I find a bathroom and turn the faucet. Cold water flows through my fingers. There is a stinging sensation but I don't care; water is good. It's hard to tell in the dark but I think it's clear if not clean. Better to boil it if I can. For a while blood clouds that water as I wash my wounds and tie them with strips of cloth. I don't know much about first aid but that should be enough.

Afterwards I stumble upon a living room, or what's left of it.

The couch is overturned. The television is toppled and cracked. The walls look torn by claws. I find no bodies here.

Nearby is a kitchen. I rush to the fridge and throw it open. Light. Food. Not spoiled. Still cold. Wait, if there's light that means there's still electricity running. I am tempted to flick on the switches but a part of me thinks that it's better to move around in the dark. Whatever animal attacked the house might still be around.

That thought makes me nervous.

…​

A kettle of boiled water later and I think I hit all the necessities.

The contents of a frozen TV dinner sits in my belly. A broom with a sharpened kitchen knife tied to the end sits next to my hand. I'm making due with sheets borrowed from the bedroom and the couch, though maybe it's better just to grab a bed.

The biggest problem with this arrangement is getting out of it.

Looking out from the windows told me I am in the middle of a town at night. The town is dead silent. With the front door of this home broken in like it is, I'm guessing the worst. Either the neighbors don't know I am here, don't care, or aren't even around anymore. The third possibility scares me the most; what if that creature took out the whole town?

I need help. A way to contact others.

No phones here, despite evidence of modernity.

After swallowing my unease, I return to the office, ignoring the corpses. Scrounging around the desk rewards me with a laptop. I turn it on and thank goodness I can read the words.

Password? P-a-s-s-w-o-r-d.

And I'm in. Good.

The desktop is sparse, a sign of a casual user. Mmm, what OS is this? System preferences… I don't know what units these specs are in, but judging from the responsiveness I'd say it's not that high-end.

Wait, how do I know this?

I'm… who am I? Wait, wait. Not only can't I remember what happened, but now I can't remember my name? C'mon… starts with a… D.

Daniel.

Jesus that scared me. Right, what the hell is happening?

I still can't remember what happened to me, but I do know that this house isn't mine and neither is this body. My limbs are too short and my vision too sharp.

No, no. I can think of that later. Right now I needed to contact help. I find the browser and am disappointed when typing in a search term in the address bar yields an error. Even Internet Explorer has search engine integration. What the fuck kind of twisted world is this?

There's a bookmarks folder but no bookmarks.

Looking at the browser's history, there's… news. How boring. Oh, and there's reading material… and porn. Good, that means this world isn't barbaric.

I go to the news website and click around the articles. The Vale Informant or whatever is kind enough not to block comments. So I type.

"I know this is strange but I need help. I lost parts of my memory somehow and everyone is dead. A creature attacked them, I think. I know it's easier to send help if I could point out my location. Is there any way to do that?"

I'm sure I'll stir a nest of trolls with that comment but all I need is one helpful tip.

A chill runs down my arm and I think sleeping in the bedroom is better. I bring my things there. Since I am in a child's body, it takes some time. Before long, I'm tired.

Shutting the laptop, I close my eyes―

…​

A device called a scroll has a beacon function that lets rescuers know where help is needed.

The response I find for my comment last night tells me how to activate the beacon. All I had to do was acquire a scroll and hope help comes.

I thank the person and I get to work.

A scroll is a kind of personal device the size of a mobile phone. I find one atop a nightstand in the room I was sleeping in. No password. Following the directions the tip gave turns the scroll's transparent blue screen red. That's all I can do.

I eat some fruit and wash up. My wounds are sore.

After a while of sitting I survey the town from a window. Still empty. I'm starting to think that even the monsters have left.

Judging from the articles I read online, I think I know where I am: Remnant.

The revelation makes me more restless. I'm in a fictional setting that doesn't seem fictional anymore. Moreover, I'm in a very precarious situation that will certainly end up with me dead if I don't play my hand right. Worse, I don't have many cards in said hand.

Damn. Is waiting and hoping all I can do?

…​

Day two.

I don't know how long it takes for help to arrive so I need to prepare for a long wait.

That I can connect to this world's equivalent of the internet means that I'm close enough to a big city center that someone is bound to pass by.

Until then I need to stay alive.

The food here is enough for perhaps five days. Can't say that's enough. I can search other houses if need be but that's doesn't change the fact that the foods in those houses will spoil within a week. Non-perishables are gold for me; I'll need to store as much as I can. Nothing else seems to be a problem except for safety. And sanity. What can I do until then…?

A thought occurs to me.

Maybe, just maybe, I can solve all my problems by unlocking my Aura?

In this world, Aura is the power of the soul made manifest. With it, I can take harder hits and heal from wounds. Granted, making it reliable takes years of training but even a point zero-one percent greater chance of survival is acceptable now.

The question is, how do I do that?

…​

Day four.

Food is starting to run out. The frozen meat is fine but the fruit and veggies aren't. And dairy.

I'm sure there aren't any Grimm lingering around at this point. I take a shot of bravery and leave with my makeshift spear.

As I suspected, the house next door is in terrible condition. I can't even find the bodies. I locate important goods―medical supplies, nonperishable food, and maybe a weapon―and drag them back to my little base.

The next house isn't so great. Three bodies, with one covering the kitchen. I can't bring myself to open the fridge without throwing up.

Four houses later, I have enough food to last another two days.

In the meantime, I keep posting on that news site.

Reading articles there tells me about what's happening in this world, even if it's nonsensical stuff. Celebrities, music, government officials, rising crime, White Fang, blah, blah. There's also something about a dead Huntsman. Maybe I should be paying attention to this news, but I'm too worried about the present to be planning for the future.

And that's not prodding the most important question of all: how did I get here?

…​

Day seven.

I'd scoured the whole town.

There are weapons in the loot I'd found, but I'm too small to use any of them properly. Even the pistol I found on a man with his head split like a watermelon is too big for my hands to hold.

I did find a short blade I could use. Of course, considering my stature it may be better just to drop the thing and run if I find trouble. At least with a spear I have better range.

My food supply is as good as it's going to get. There's junk food, crackers, cured hams, dried fruit, and other things. I think I have enough for another two weeks if I partition it all correctly.

Water is still fine. Threat of the Grimm passing by aside, things have been peaceful in this town.

My wounds have healed save slight sores. Thank goodness for young bodies.

I've been posting enough about my plight online that a bored writer has written an article about me.

CHILD SURVIVES GRIMM INCURSION, STRANDED IN WILDERNESS

I've thanked the writer for her help, even provided some details to spice up her story. She's mentioned that help is on its way now that I shared information Huntsmen can work with. There's no estimate as to when that help will arrive, but I'm relieved.

…​

Day nine.

I've taken to meditation. Exercise is off the list of things I can do since my access to calories is limited. I just sit in bed and clear my thoughts.

According to an article I found online, this is one of the ways a person can unlock his Aura by himself.

I hope that is the case.

The article about me hasn't gotten much coverage. Apparently happenings like mine take place all the time. It's only the cities that are safe from Grimm activity. With villages disappearing so often, the only ones that really care are the Huntsmen.

And there's just not enough of them.

So in a way, I'm being told that I have to try to make it out myself. I'd been given a rudimentary map and I know where I am on it. The scroll has a compass feature that I can use to navigate.

If help doesn't come in two more days, then I'm taking what food I have and braving the wilds.

…​

Day eleven.

I let the writer know I'm moving by myself. I thank her and tuck the laptop in my bag.

I leave with what I can carry in a bag.

…​

There is a lack of Grimm here.

Granted, I don't know where Grimm live, but I haven't found any. That's a blessing for sure.

I know that Salem controls them, so it stands to reason that they would be around where humanity lives. I suppose that a fallen town means no people, so there is no reason for Grimm to be there. Unfortunately that presumes that Salem lacks the numbers to fill the uninhabited parts of the world with Grimm as well. Since I'm still alive, I'll take that presumption as a good educated guess.

That said, I'm heading to another town, so I might end up encountering Grimm.

The closest location is a day away. I'll reach there in two. Hopefully I won't be met with cold shoulders or outright hostility. Although Ren and Nora made it to their teenage years, I'm not sure I can do the same. Not without more cards in hand at the least.

…​

Day thirteen, noon.

I'm tired as hell. Children aren't built for this kind of physical activity. My bag is lighter but so is my stomach. Water is still okay after finding that spring.

I'm on a dirt road that should lead to this next town but I haven't seen a soul.

I hope that's not a ghost town, too.

…​

A figure in the distance.

It's a woman. She looks to be in her twenties. Dirty blond hair. She's in practical-looking leather and plate armor. There's a sword at her side.

At this point, I'll be fine even if she's here to kill me.

She sees me too but I can't read her expression. The bags under her eyes tell me she's exhausted, and the tightness in her features tell me she's stressed. Nevertheless, she's approaching me as well. Since her strides are longer than mine, it's more like she's walking towards me instead of the other way around.

I manage a smile. "Hello."

The Huntress looks me over. "It's not safe for children to be walking around alone."

"I don't have much choice. Is there a town in the direction you came from?"

She nods and does her best to relax. She even tries to smile back at me. It's not working. "There is. I take it you're the survivor from Hedith?"

"Yeah…"

She gets down on a knee to reach my eye level. Exhaustion aside, the Huntress is quite pretty now that I get a good look at her. "I'm so sorry for what you've experienced. But you're safe now, I promise. My name is Dawn. Dawn Solena. I'm a Huntress."

Spoiler: Dawn Solena

Should I give my name? It's not a color name…

"Actually, I don't remember my name. Sorry. Call me whatever you want."

That earns me a frown. "… Memory loss. That's unfortunate. Let's get you back to safety first. We can talk about what you can do afterwards."

Relief floods my veins. "Thank you. Really."

a/n: This is probably based on some CYOA but I'm too lazy to check. Anyways I haven't written much lately so let me have my fix, boss.

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Chapter 2

I am alive.

Dawn is talking with the man behind a counter at the inn she brought me to. She's bought me a hot meal, my first since leaving Hedith. Obviously it's not Michelin-star food, but it may as well be to a starving kid like myself.

The lobby of the inn is quiet with only myself, Dawn, and the innkeeper present.

The innkeeper looks middle-aged, but has the energy of a young man. His hairline is receding and his gut is protruding. I see Dawn pass a plastic card to him.

By the time she comes back, I'm done with my meal.

"You alright now, Aidan?" she asks.

Aidan. That's what she's calling me now. I admit, it's not a bad name, I think, and it's better than "boy" or "kid." She told me she knew a guy with the same name, and thought my hair color matched his. Good enough.

"I'm okay. Thank you again for the food."

She glares. "Quit it with that. It's my job. I don't have much to spend my Lien on otherwise."

"O-okay." That sounds depressing. I'm a little at a loss on what to say. "Umm… any advice as to what I should do now?"

Dawn sighs. "I went looking for you pro bono, so don't worry about payment. There's an orphanage in Vale that I'll drop you off at."

Orphanage, huh? Beats dying in the middle of nowhere.

"I appreciate it."

I get a raised brow. "Really? It's better than dying but not much else. Plenty of kids without families join gangs and the like later on in their lives. You look like a smart kid, so you should plan for that."

I nod. "How's schooling?"

"In Vale? You should be able to get in public schools just fine. Later on, if you qualify, you might be able to get in to a Huntsman Academy. Hard to get to there without attending a combat school beforehand, but if you make it you get a full ride to employment courtesy of the Council."

… Eh. "Any trade schools?"

"A few. Might have to take exams to get in, depending on the school. Limited seats and all."

Sounds better. "I might do just that."

"Good. It won't sit well with me knowing you'll go criminal."

"You didn't have to save me," I end up saying. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but… if criminality is a big problem…"

Dawn props her chin on a hand. "It's the right thing to do."

Even though she says that, she doesn't look the least bit inspired. Tired, I think, but it might be something else. She looks… worn down? Depressed? I bite my lip and ask. "Are you okay? It might not be my place to say this, but you look like you could use a long nap."

She shuts her eyes and shakes her head.

I frown. "Is it that bad? Being a Huntress, I mean."

She doesn't answer.

"You can tell me…" I say.

And she does.

"Saving people is good. But… I don't know. I guess I'm a dull Jane." She glances at me. Dull indeed. "I shouldn't be telling this to a kid. My anti-depressants aren't working anymore. It's getting to me. Grimm haven't caught up to me yet, but at this rate…"

"Maybe you need a vacation?" I suggest.

"It's always been like this. Something's wrong with me. When I was younger I thought I'd do this work for the better. Maybe helping people would help me. I was good enough anyhow. But now, I'm thinking this is just me. Can't find a bit of happiness making other people happy."

I've seen trucks lighter than those words. Worst part is, I haven't anything to say to comfort her. I don't know of anyone depressed. At least none who revealed their problems to me.

And I doubt Aura cures problems like this.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I ask. "I owe you, at least."

She smiles at this. It looks a little genuine. "Thanks, but you just take care of yourself, kiddo."

… Hmm. No, this feels wrong. I'm not one to butt into anyone else's business. At the same time, a nagging feeling is telling me to press on. Like an invisible hand nudging me in her direction. It's uncharacteristic of me and quite annoying. Maybe it's because I really did think I owe her and that I want to see a debt repaid. It's certainly not out of the goodness of my heart.

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"I'm sure." Her smile falls. Her eyes look away. "… No, maybe I could use a change of pace."

I straighten.

She murmurs to herself. "A vacation, you said? That might do me some good. At least a break back home…"

She looks at me. I'm slightly uncomfortable with her staring.

"You wanna live with me?" she asks.

I blink. "Pardon?"

"Home's a bit empty. I think a break would do me some good, but I think I'll need some company too. If you're looking for a place to stay, I'm fine with putting you up."

I'm not sure if this is generosity. "Are you okay with that?"

She shrugs. "It might be a bit whimsical of me… but it's not like I'm strapped for cash. I have time. I can teach you a few things about defending yourself. A kid like you can use that, right?"

She has a point.

I'm wary that so much is happening in such a short time, and yet now that I'm no longer in danger I need to consider my future.

"I could, yes. If you'll have me then, uh, teacher? I'd be glad to live with you."

…​

Our destination changes from Vale to a village somewhere in the west.

It takes us a week plus change to get there in between stops at other villages. We get supplies. I help carry some. Dawn teaches me how to set up camp every night. I learn how to put up a tent, light a fire, gather wood, and forage for food.

Dawn's attitude doesn't change much. She still looks tired and depressed, though it is clear she's clever and well-traveled. Whenever I engage her in conversation, whether it's a question or idle chatter, she never fails to respond. I'm not sure how to help her other than keep her company.

Maybe that's all I can do.

…​

Reaching her home is an anti-climatic moment.

Her village is small, with a few roads connecting modest houses together around a plain square. She nods absently to the people who greet her. There's not much that stands out here.

Her home is one of the biggest ones standing. Kind of like a suburban house back in the city I lived in, in a world without evil monsters in the dark. She unlocks the door and I realize there's so much dust inside a cloud of it escapes with the fresh air rushing in. That tells me she's been away for a long while. More and more, Dawn's life sounds like one of emptiness and desperation.

Kind of sad.

"Home sweet home," she mumbles. No enthusiasm.

I bring our gear inside. Dawn checks to see if the appliances are still functional. I hear a few heavy stomps from her direction as I enter what looks like the living room.

It's a nice little place. Long sofa, coffee table, a modest television. I'm guessing there's power here, and a signal from the city. I remember this village, Kadas, is somewhere south of Vale. It's a little uncomfortable for me to be so close to the plot of the show but I'll do what's best and keep my head down if things smell like trouble. I'm no fighter, especially not the way I am now.

It'd be nice if I can get through this without having to risk my life.

"Any trouble?" Dawn asks when she comes back.

"No. I heard some noise where you were."

"Bugs." Makes sense. "Let me show you where you'll sleep."

She brings me to a room upstairs with a single bed, a table, a window, and a closet. It's dusty like the rest of the house, but looks comfortable.

"It's the guest room. Never used it."

"I see. Thank you very much."

"I'll fix something for us to eat first," she says. "Then we'll get necessities for you."

"Let me help."

"… Alright."

…​

A week passes.

I haven't shaken off the feeling that something about this is odd.

Let me make this clear: I'm don't look a gift horse in the mouth. If the choices I had were to either die or be orphaned, I'd take the latter. If my choices were to be orphaned or cared for, it'll be the latter. That a Huntress I don't know of decided to take me under her wing is an astounding act of generosity that I will remember as long as I live.

That said, it's fishy.

Who does that? A person who's job is to fight creatures of darkness encounters people in distress regularly. Why would that person all of a sudden take one of the many children she's met under her care?

And if her personality doesn't seem to predispose her to such an act?

These are questions born from pessimism, sure. But I think they are good questions to ask.

…​

It's like living with a distant relative.

We live in the same space and see each other every day. We aren't on bad terms but aren't close. We speak to one another but run out of things to say. Our silence isn't awkward, but it feels rude. Getting to know one another is a contrived exercise.

In our first week together, I help out around the house. It's clear she's not used to a homely lifestyle. She's out often in her village, taking on requests from the neighbors or the chief. A Huntress, still. Not serving a city council but a village's. It's all the same.

I tend to the house. It's a two-story home, not including attic and basement. The first floor has a living room, kitchen, closet, and half a bathroom. The second floor has a guest room, master bedroom, full bathroom, and another closet. The basement has a washing machine and dryer, as well as racks for nonperishable goods. And the attic has all the things Dawn forbids me to touch: her weapon, armor, and munitions.

By the fifth week, we have routines.

She's up and out sometime in the morning. I'm handling the meals and cleaning. I learn quickly. When she returns, we're tired, and spend time getting ready for the next day.

One night, she's in the bathroom longer than usual.

I decide to intrude and find her in blood. Her wrists are cut. I panic, tell her to hang on, and, well, she heals up her wounds with her Aura.

In other words, she tries to commit suicide, goes through with it, and aborts when I tell her to.

When I ask what the hell she's playing at, she has no idea what to say.

There's something wrong with this picture and it seems like I'm a part of it.

…​

"Tell me what happened," I say to her the second she's dressed.

We're in the master bedroom. Her room is a mess regardless of my interference. Her wardrobe is sparse, and whatever clothes she uses lays about in her room unless I take the time to pick up after her.

She's in an over-sized sweater and baggy pants now.

"I have been thinking about ending it all these past few days," she says. I can't tell what she's feeling. Or thinking. "I thought helping you would have changed me, but I was wrong. Nothing changed. So I decided today to be the day. I repressed my Aura and cut my wrists."

That's… "You're a Huntress. Never thought about death by Grimm?"

"I have. It's different. When there's Grimm involved, I feel less like this. I feel like I can do something. That's why I became a Huntress."

"But for the rest of the time, you feel nothing."

"Yes."

It's creepy how she's just sitting on her bed, answering like that. Robotic, even. I sigh. "Tell my why you're listening to what I say."

Dawn hesitates. "I don't know."

"Tell me what you think the reason might be."

"I think… you're making me."

Bingo? I'm feeling a little sheepish. Oops, I've been mind controlling you by accident. Sorry! Tee-hee. "And you're okay with that?"

"I don't think I can do anything about it, even if I wasn't."

"Yes or no?"

"No."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"… No."

"So you don't like what I'm doing but you don't want me to stop."

"Yes."

"Tell me why that is."

"I think you can help me stop myself."

"From killing yourself, you mean. Do you want to live? To enjoy life as you can?"

"Yes. And yes."

So. Mind control. The sponsor for my transmigration into the RWBYverse is a god of porn. At least, helping someone out of suicidal tendencies leans towards moral application of mind manipulation. Until I hit puberty. I can't guarantee anything then.

"Fine. Let's figure out how to make you want to live again."

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Chapter 3

Unfortunately, I don't have an instruction manual.

To be able to help Dawn, I need to know how to use this ability of mine. Depth, duration, scale, restrictions, technicalities―I want to know as much as I can about it before I influence a person's mind so heavily. It's bad enough that I did so unknowingly.

I bring this matter up with Dawn, who looks contemplative.

"It is pretty odd," she admits. "Your Aura isn't unlocked yet, so this can't be your Semblance."

"And I don't have any Dust."

"So, this is… some kind of natural part of you? Or something… something else."

I want to say magic. "So, whatever it is, how do you think I should apply it? I don't know how powers work in the first place."

She raises a hand. I shield my eyes as a bright light shines forth from it. Dawn's Semblance, Daybreak, isn't the most impressive one I can imagine. It illuminates her body or things she touches. The light is strong, like looking into the sun. It makes her easy to notice.

"It's hard to explain in specifics, because the way everyone perceives themselves differs," she begins. "A Semblance is an extension of the soul made manifest into the world. It's an interpretation of their inner self to reality… or so I'd say."

The inner self made real?

I'm a little skeptical. All my life, I have always played the background guy that supports others. I just hate being in the spotlight because I get embarrassed. Having a power like mind control be a reflection of who I am is… is quite reasonable. There's the whole "mastermind in the dark" sort of feel. Damn it, this is completely unintentional!

"I see." I sigh. "So I should be able to instinctively control it, is what you're saying."

"Basically."

Mmm. Man, this sucks.

...​

Dawn isn't wrong, per se.

I think my power works along specific guidelines rather than on certain actions.

If my power works on anyone I speak to, I'm sure I'd have left a trail of dysfunctional people who had the misfortune of overhearing an unintended command.

Granted, I haven't met many people since coming to this world; this may already be happening.

The nice lady who runs a bakery in Kadas is someone I visit often. She takes to me quickly at first glance, mainly because there are few children in the village and I look about eight-years old. Being polite also helps.

Instinct tells me that I can't mind control her. Not yet.

If this is true, this power works after fulfilling conditions.

It may be that it only works on people that I have accepted as important to me. That is the only reason I can think of that would differentiate Dawn when I met her from other strangers.

Then there is also the matter of what I say.

It is impossible for all of my words to translate into commands. If I did, the excess of commands that Dawn would receive would drive her insane. She is affable to what I ask of her, so somewhere there is a filter that allows a kind of interpretation based on context. It might be...

Looking back, I think the only real command I've given her is to be happy.

I might be wrong, but that is what my gut tells me.

So, my worries about censoring myself may be a symptom of guilt or restraint. Still, reflection and consideration of action are good habits to get into if it means keeping myself grounded. I've read enough (and written enough) porn to know that such powers screw up the manipulator's own psyche just as badly as those he preys on.

…​

According to a saying about men and fish, it's more efficient for me to grant Dawn a means of obtaining the happiness she needs rather than supply happiness to her directly.

Though it's apparent the latter has improved her well-being significantly, I can't have her rely on me forever.

Ideally, I can get her to see a psychologist, but I've talked to her about it and such people are rare. I don't quite understand why. Is there not a demand for professionals in that field? Or is the reality of this world such that a means of grounding people ultimately futile?

It's unfortunate that I'll have to do this myself.

Since I want to anchor Dawn's happiness to her own actions rather than mine, it's best to look at her routine and help her enjoy what she does.

First thing in the morning, she wakes up and does a light workout.

I overwrite my first command to her: instead of simply being happy all the time, she finds herself enjoying waking up early in the morning and/or spending that time being productive.

Later, when I find that she loses wind as the day goes on, I tack on other things: enjoying being active outdoors; enjoying long baths; enjoying good company; among others. Of course, I don't think I'm doing enough; this is nothing more than showing her where to get fish. It won't hold in the face of emergencies or disruptive events. It is, however, a step in the right direction, I think, so I leave this framework on until I can figure out something that supports her more reliably.

…​

"Aidan! Get up!" Dawn shouts from across the house.

Not long after, she barges into the room and rips the sheets off me. "Rise and shine! It's time for your daily session with your favorite instructor."

While I appreciate her taking the time to train me, I wish it could be at noon, not sunrise.

As I yawn, Dawn goes into my drawers and tosses me a t-shirt and shorts.

I groan.

"Hurry up. Or I'll change you myself," she says as she leaves.

It's nice that she's got spirit, but… can't a kid get five more minutes around here?

I put on what she threw at me and get downstairs. My training spear is leaning next to the door to the backyard. I drink a little water to get the taste of sleep out of my mouth before grabbing the spear and heading out.

Dawn's already stretching. She's in a pair of black tights and a slim white tee.

Since I'm only nine―we decided to make my birth date the same as hers when I couldn't remember mine―the most I get from seeing her bend over like that is an appreciation for female body aesthetics. She's got a nice body. Must come from her physically demanding lifestyle.

When I step outside, she glances back at me. I'm not enthusiastic about getting beat black and blue even if my recently unlocked Aura heals it back up. I withstand the urge to run back inside.

A smile spreads over her face. "Reaching that age, I see."

"No."

"You're no fun. Do your stretches. I'll be right back."

I do as I'm told. Ten minutes later, she's back with a wooden sword. It's a little slender; like her saber, it's meant for stabbing. My sides are already aching.

The training spear I'm using is a short spear by normal measurements.

Since I'm a child, it's an appropriate length for me. That also means the usual reach advantage a spear gives to its wielder is nonexistent against Dawn, who is an adult. Well, even if I did have that advantage, it's not enough against a professional Huntress who has trained heavily in her martial skills.

Our spars therefore involve me struggling to stay standing as long as possible.

Perceive, react.

"There's no fairness out there," Dawn told me once. "I'll make sure to beat that into you."

I make the first move. My spear gets knocked aside like the twig it is. Of course, why did I expect anything more? Fighting properly with weapons only matters when your opponent isn't a big fat cheat. That said, trying to improvise will make her upset, since "I know better than her on how to use these weapons."

For the sake of my ribs, I bear with it.

"Hmm. Aidan, you're not really into this, are you?" Dawn asks after a couple minutes.

I haven't hit her at all despite my attempts to do so. I bite down the snark since she responds to it with more painful pokes to my ribs. "Not sure what I can do apart from stabby-stabby."

"You could stab with some style."

I stop. I'm getting better at expressing my feelings because Dawn looks sheepish. "I-I meant, you know… figuring out a way of fighting that's good for you. Your own style."

"Last time I tried that…"

"You were being dumb. You're using a spear. You stab with it."

Not in Chinese martial arts movies they don't! But she's got a point as well. From what I remember about RWBY, the fighting methodologies are only loosely based on real… er, on modern Earth methods. I'm sure there will be differences thanks to the whole SOUL POWER perk.

Which arrives at the important note I've been neglecting: my Aura.

I take a deep breath. "Okay."

And I use my Aura for something other than healing. I feel it like a warm tingle, a fire beneath my skin. It flows from my chest, down to my guts and legs, and down my arms and hands. As that feeling passing through my fingers, I feel light. Huh. So this is how it feels like to be soul-juiced.

I sit back on my leg and thrust.

I proceed to crash into the fence that surrounds Dawn's yard.

I hear Dawn laugh her ass off as I brush bits of grass off me. I let her. She'll be feeling the one at the sharp end of the stick eventually.

…​

"Hey, weirdo!" a boy shouts at me one day in village.

He's the butcher's son, I think. The man is loud but nice; his son is unfortunately loud and not nice. He's got a reputation for being a bully. If I was a little kid, I might be intimidated by him. Of course, being as old as I am, the thirteen-year old is just a kid to me.

I shift the case in my arms. "Yeah?"

"Ha! See, he answers."

The boys around him laugh and chant in a sing-song like chorus. "Weirdo, weirdo! His name is weirdo! Hey there, weirdo."

It's not just the local boys. A couple of the village's girls are in the back. As far as I know, the girls aren't prone to this bullying thing: at least, they haven't tried anything on me. Actually, they've been nice to me so far, despite my being a little unsociable. Even now, they're trying to speak up. How sweet. Maybe I should share some sweet bread with them next time Granny Mint gives me a batch.

"Hey, what's that you're carrying, weirdo? Hand it over!" the butcher's kid demands.

I look at him. "Fuck off."

I'm carrying Dust. I think anyone with a brain could see that, but, alas, this kid just fills the dumb jock category too well. "Hey, I said hand it over!"

"And I said, fuck off."

He scowls and steps into my personal space. He's got at least half a foot on me, but I've got Aura. He's also a lot weaker than Dawn, so I'm not worried one bit.

No, that's wrong. I'm worried this Dust might end up exploding. Granted, it's in crystal form so it's reasonably stable; unfortunately, kids aren't reasonable. I'll be fine if it goes boom. These kids won't be. Hmm, might jump-start some brain cells in his noggin' though.

When I don't back off like he expect me to, he grabs for the case.

I knock his chin with my head.

He falls. The boys supporting him don't know how to respond, their mouths gaping like fish. Even the girls look a little bewildered. I think they expected me to run or hide or something, just like what I've been doing until now. But, well, Dust.

I step over the dazed kid and continue walking home.

…​

Naturally, I get Hell for doing that.

After the kids run off telling a patchy story about me beating up oh-so-innocent Braun, Dawn comes back from her patrol around village more than a little pissed.

"What's wrong with you, hitting that boy?" she shouts.

I explain to her calmly what happened.

In the end, she bites back her words but still looks displeased. "Alright, I get it. You're right; you had to be careful. But! You shouldn't have hit him, no matter what. I don't want any excuses! If you're going to be a Huntsman, you can't attack civilians like that."

But I never said I'd be a Huntsman. I just want to learn how to protect myself.

"You're going to apologize for what you did, Aidan."

I mean, I don't mind; I don't care enough about the kid to hold any sort of pride. But wouldn't letting him have the last laugh be negative reinforcement for his behavior?

Whatever.

If he comes around the next time with the same attitude, I'll knee him in the balls.

…​

One night, I'm sitting on the roof.

A cool wind blows. Goosebumps raise on my arms. Already, it's autumn. How long have I been here? A few months by Remnant's standards, if I recall correctly. I even have a routine.

I think I have a good grasp on my mind control power now. Applied by words, it lets me order around the people I've marked. There's a little resistance if that person and I have a bad relationship; however, the relationship somehow becomes affable the more orders I apply. Additionally, there seems to be a slight psychological effect on the people I command if the order is severe enough.

I made sure Braun and his buddies won't bother me anymore.

Dawn seems to be doing well.

I'm getting a handle on my spear training, too.

Which brings me to my next goal. I don't have my Semblance yet, but I do have this mind control power. Or more specifically, I have a power that lets me bend people to my will, because that was a power I most certainly needed in a world where I had no one to rely on.

Dawn once told me that my powers will work as my gut tells me. So long as I acknowledge it, I can give it structure. By giving it structure, I let myself perceive it.

Mold it.

Bring it to life.

In my hands is a wisp of burning flame. It glows with a gentle, orange light. To me, it's more dazzling than the stars in the night sky overhead. I don't feel a blistering heat. Rather, it's a soft warmth that chases away the autumn cold.

Praise be to ROB.

I'm a motherfucking wizard.

a/n: In case no one got the memo, I got a job offer for a thingie starting in June. Yay for employment!