5 Dreams and Destiny

"Hey, who do you think she'll take after more?" Taiyang asks me. My mind isn't in the right place and I have no idea what he's talking about right now. "I think I've got a head start on you, Raven. She's already throwing punches! She'll be just like her old man in no time." I guess we're talking about Yang's future. Again.

"Very funny, Taiyang. I assume falling flat on her back is your style as well?" Why is this conversation so painfully easy to continue? I wanted to avoid this topic. But at the same time, I don't.

"Hey, come on now. There's no Grimm around. You can unwind a bit." He says, reacting to the tone in my voice. "Although, Raven, flat on my back really is my style, isn't it?" He says in a lower tone, leaning in closer.

He probably remembers being pushed down very clearly. "If you're making jokes about how she was born, it won't earn you any points." His shoulders slump at my rejection. I keep trying to return my thoughts to the tribe. And my father's wishes. And the future of my people—my family. My real family.

That last thought sank my heart to a depth deeper than I thought imaginable. Of all the darkness in my life, why can't I hold onto the single little light that Tai constantly reminds me of?

"She seems a natural with those fists of hers. Thanks to yours, truly." Tai announces, beaming with pride. I can't deny it, though. "But hey, I think she's already picking up on some of your swagger, don't you think?" He must be talking about that look in her eyes last night. I'm proud that she shares my red, but her eyes are better tinted lilac. I wonder. If fate allowed, who would she rather learn from?

In my mind, I imagine myself wearing my father's mask in the center of the Branwen Tribe camp. At my side is my Yang, fully grown, sword in hand. I discard the thought because, deep down inside, I'd prefer she learn from Tai.

I re-envision the same scene—now my daughter stands free, unhindered by a blade.

"I dunno, Raven. You better get a sword in her hands as soon as you can or else you'll miss your chance." Tai says teasingly, pounding a fist into his chest.

Miss my chance? MY CHANCE? I don't have a chance. I never did from the beginning.

"So you're taking my daughter away from me already!?" I shout at Taiyang, unexpectedly overwhelmed by my own emotions. The blame escapes me, lashing out at the last person to possibly deserve it. My voice echoes against the towering mountain.

"Woah, Raven. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." He apologizes, not knowing why. He didn't even do anything wrong. It's because of the pressure, testing my nerves. This isn't like me. How am I supposed to lead my people if I can't even keep my composure with Taiyang? "Raven." He softens his voice. "Yang is our daughter. No one's taking her away from you."

Again, he somehow manages to say the wrong words—words that I wish I could allow myself to want.

Unfortunately, they're only wrong because he's right. No one is taking Yang from me.

I'm the one that's leaving.

I walk ahead of him and say nothing for the rest of the trip back.

I dismiss the Huntress we requested to watch over Yang and enter the bedroom. I wrap Yang in her blanket and step out into the lounge. My mind is a mess, and I find myself more exhausted from shouting at Tai than I am from the Grimm with Summer. I drift off to sleep on the couch, alone.

~~~

The Branwen tribe gathers around their leader, finishing combat preparations. Under the edge of the crescent moon, the raiding party follows tightly behind their leader's iconic mask. Her cloak blends into the shadow she casts. The first fires are lit, and her brothers and sisters swarm the streets of the town. Local huntsmen challenge them at the gates, only to be overwhelmed by the tribe's sheer numbers.

Only the strong survive. Those that fight us are slain. Those that flee are slaughtered.

As the raiding party pillages for supplies, attention returns to their leader. She lifts her mask and hood, freeing her flowing blonde hair to the wind. The lilacs have long since withered. Those eyes now command the night, forever stained with cold glass crimson. Their supplies are replenished for weeks to come—all thanks to the leadership of Yang Branwen.

~~~

I abruptly wake from my nightmare. My sweat spills onto the blanket Tai must have brought me. It's the middle of the night. I must have passed out early before the rest of the team returned.

Before I get the chance to lose myself in thought again, I hear Yang's cries. From a window, I see a partial shadow blocking the moonlight, massive shoulders swaying with each breath. Where are our patrols!? I rush to the bedroom as quickly as I can. I open the door and see a Grimm passing by outside through the bedroom window. In a panic, I reach for my sword that isn't there.

My legs instinctively run to my daughter. Or rather, they try to before they're stopped by my own mess of a mind. At the worst possible time, I'm reminded by myself that a leader can't be anchored by her emotions. Though I'm only frozen for a split second, I feel myself erupting in turmoil as both lives collide into one another.

My madness is brought to an end by a familiar rain of daggers that shower the Grimm from above. Like thorns of a rose, the daggers bleed into the Grimm as the white flower flutters down, impaling it with her twin blades. Her hood drops in the wind, and Summer's silver eyes smile into my soul through the window past her crimson-black hair.

If only she knew my shame.

Tai isn't in the bedroom. He probably left the bed available so I could stay with Yang alone.

My eyes return to Summer before glancing down at Yang. She stopped crying when Summer appeared. In that instant, my imagination torments me with the image of Summer sitting beside Tai, smiling brightly, with my daughter laughing in her arms. I'm torn between hope, hatred, and heartbreak. Summer enters the house and I assume she tried to comfort me. Her words don't reach me right now. She said something about Tai training. And something else about Ozpin, our old mentor and headmaster.

I steel my nerves. I've been soft ever since I gave birth to Yang. I'm the head of the Branwen Tribe. I will remain resolute. It's time—I need to tell Qrow about father's passing. Tomorrow is a new day, and there are oaths to keep.