The raid was imminent, and Yang had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Numb to everything around her, she suited up as she had countless times before. She tightened the straps on her gear, listening to her friends’ idle laughter with little interest. They joked and chatted about various subjects, grabbing for their weapons of choice. 24 hours earlier, she had also been one of them - a bandit with a single-minded mission, eager to get the present task done and hurry back home to the spice-filled aroma of a hot stew, or sizzling slabs of seasoned meat on a grill. Of course, these were meals prepared with mostly stolen goods from ransacked homes of people she never knew, and likely never would.
It was easier that way. Not paying attention to their frightened stares, never getting a good view of their faces or learning their names. Whenever she did, Yang found it that much harder to compel her body to move and carry out what was asked of her. However, over the years, she’d become a master at lying to herself. Ignoring that nagging sense of unease that always crept up when she had to push wild Grimm closer and closer to settlements, then watch as they wreaked havoc, leaving innocent people with no choice but to run or die. But it never mattered, because after all, those who were strong would live. The weak were bound to die anyway. At least, that’s what she used to believe. Now, everything her mother taught the tribe for so long was called into question.
She took her first excruciating steps on the march out of camp. Anyone watching her might think of it as a day like any other, but the battle going on inside her was a great and terrible one.
“Halt!” Raven shouted from in front of the camp’s large wooden gate.
Each of the tribe members fell into place in neat rows, a perfectly synchronized unit. Everyone apart from Yang, who stumbled on a rock as she planted her feet. A few people stared at her in confusion, but then promptly turned their attention back to Raven. She boldly faced the tribe, her weapon out at her side.
“Let me make one thing clear,” Raven said, brandishing her sword. “I want this done quickly, efficiently, and with as little engagement as possible. Lop off a few limbs, kill a few, but make sure you leave most of the Grimm alive. Once we stir up their survival instinct and push them across the river, they’ll do the rest of the work for us.”
“Yes, ma’am!” came the chorus of voices.
Yang shuddered, hoisting her backpack up onto her shoulder when it slipped. She looked down and noticed the tangled mess that was her hair. In all of the commotion, she hadn’t even noticed that it needed a good brushing. That was beyond rare. She needed to hurry and get a handle on this situation before it drove her crazy. Figure out a course of action. Sooner or later, her mother would be ready to have that talk they were overdue for, and would probably force her hand.
A couple more instructions from Raven were met with equally fervent shouts of obedience. Yang did not join in, instead withdrawing into herself.
Shay stood proudly in Vernal’s usual spot at the very front and center of the procession, a rifle strapped across his back. Vernal was Raven’s most loyal follower, and the person Yang looked up to most. However, they still needed to mend their relationship. Maybe there would be time for that during the tribe’s reconnaissance of the Grimm’s territory.
The tribe clustered together, trailing behind Raven as she led them out of the camp and down the familiar dirt road. Once the tribe was out in the open, she signaled for everyone to stop and held her sword out at arm’s length. Raven inhaled, then forcefully sliced horizontally with her blade, tearing open a red vortex that swirled and breathed with life. It hummed, fueled by the tribal leader’s aura reserves.
A day’s walk reduced to mere minutes. Sure, she was used to this by now, but the idea that such a thing was possible still amazed Yang. On the other side of the portal, Vernal stepped back to let the large procession of tribe members, equipment, carts and wagons enter. Yang knew what awaited at the end of their short journey. She wasn’t sure she was, or would ever be, ready.
Settling onto a grassy area surrounded by a canopy of trees, everyone sighed with relief. Many small children clung to their mothers, clustering together along with any other non-combatants. Those who came armed to fight passed their children off to whoever was available to look after them, then awaited orders. Raven held up a closed fist and called for a few minutes of rest. The knot in the pit of Yang’s stomach twisted ever tighter, threatening to force a grumble or groan out of her. Still, she refused to let her nerves get the better of her. Most people took Raven’s command as an indirect invitation to have lunch, following her silent example. She sat next to Vernal, rifling through her belongings until she found wrapped fresh vegetables and bread.
Just great.
Yang knew there would be no avoiding her mother or Miss Vernal if either of them chose to approach her. Not now that they were only a stone’s throw away. The same was true of her fellow tribe members, who must have known something was going on. A furtive glance here. A fold of the lips there. They may not have had a clue about why Yang left, but they weren’t stupid.
Finding a nice, empty spot of grass away from the group where she could sit and eat the sandwich she packed, Yang squatted into a cross-legged position and set her bag down. She unpacked slowly and methodically, glad to have something to focus on other than her all-consuming exhaustion or her mother’s secrets. Staring down at the sandwich with a blank expression, Yang shoved it in her mouth and ate, doing her best not to think. Thinking would lead to further obsession, and she’d had enough of that for now.
Eating alone was calming, but strange. Ordinarily, she was more of a people person, with a crowd of lively people around her. They all celebrated loudly and drank, but somehow, she managed to retain the title of life of the party, no matter what. She was energetic, vibrant, and fun, as opposed to her quiet, calculating, and cold mother.
Yang grunted and stood up. There she was again, thinking about Raven. Raven, Raven, Raven! Everything always came back to Raven.
Footsteps crunched on the twigs behind her, and she stopped short of turning around to see who was there. Somehow, she already knew.
“Yang, I’m sorry,” Vernal said.
The princess let the awkward silence persist, if only to buy her time while she thought of an appropriate response.
“About what, Miss Vernal?”
“About before. I shouldn’t have left things that way. Not when I saw you were upset and needed to talk to someone.”
In spite of the tension, Yang chuckled as she turned to face Vernal. “Well, I didn’t exactly leave you much choice. I’m sorry too. That wasn’t fair of me. I should’ve heard your side first.”
“Yes, you should’ve.”
The gentle dig hurt worse than a punch to the face, but Yang didn’t shy away from Vernal’s words. She deserved them after how she behaved.
“Anyway,” Vernal continued, “I didn’t come here to talk about my side.”
“Then why did you?”
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“Yang, I think it’s your mother whose perspective you should lend an ear to,” Vernal suggested, nodding toward the spot on the grass where she and Raven previously sat to eat. Raven was sitting there alone, chewing on a stalk of celery.
Yang knew her mother didn’t deserve it right now, but even so, she couldn’t deny that the sight of her so lonely pulled at her heart. For all of Raven’s secrecy and wrong choices, she was still the woman who led an independent army and kept them all alive day after day. The one who taught Yang about her semblance and aura, showed her how to use them to survive, and sang to her to calm her down after nightmares. The one who used to brush her hair and tell stories about the tribe, her brother, who defected years ago, and the Huntsman academy she once attended with him. Maybe, Yang considered, it was best to talk to Raven now rather than put it off. Surely, she was hurting just as much as her daughter was by holding everything in.
“Yang?” Vernal asked, stepping closer and waving a hand in front of her. “Hello?”
“Oh, sorry about that.” Yang shook herself back into focus. “Go on.”
Vernal sighed and took Yang’s hand, looking down at her with a tender smile that turned to a frown. “I’m only suggesting you talk things out with her. I never got the same chance with my parents before they...you know.”
Yang did know. Vernal’s parents, once highly respected members of the tribe themselves, died on a scouting mission, leaving her orphaned. Now she masterfully performed similar missions, such as heading up the reconnaissance unit that was due to survey the Grimm lurking near their target village. Following Vernal’s parents’ passing, Raven took her under her wing, both literally and figuratively, and she, in turn, did the same for Yang.
“Yeah,” Yang said gruffly, pulling away. “But I just don’t know.”
“If I had another chance to speak with my mother, there’s no way I wouldn’t take it.” Vernal patted Yang on the shoulder and left her with the words, “Please don’t waste yours.”
With difficulty, Yang forced down her misgivings about Raven, trying to concentrate on the good in her that she used to admire so much. That she still admired, even after everything she learned in the past couple of days. The Raven who she knew loved her was hidden somewhere under that rough exterior. If she could find her, maybe she could also find a way to forgive both Ravens. To process this without losing what mattered most.
“Mom,” Yang said shakily, staring at her mother’s back. Raven sat with her blade laid across her legs, never one to be caught unawares.
“Yang, what is it?” she asked, a tinge of hope in her voice.
“I decided…” Yang struggled to form the words, watching Raven’s ears twitch in expectation. “I want to discuss what we talked about last night. I mean, if you have a moment.”
Raven chewed slowly, and Yang stood idly by, not knowing whether the silence was a good or a bad sign. Just when she’d begun to lose all hope of a response, Raven waved her forward.
“Come sit, please,” she requested, pulling out a canteen of water and guzzling it noisily while Yang got settled. “So,” she said, stowing the canteen away, “would you like to start?”
Yang nodded. Everyone within earshot moved and sat farther away, providing the mother and daughter with the privacy that they clearly needed.
“Mom, why didn’t you tell me about them?”
Raven sighed, setting the rest of her food aside and clearing her throat. “It’s not as simple as you think, Yang,” she said.
“Then tell me what was so complicated about it. I’m right here asking you to give me your reasons.”
“Okay, that’s fair. Listen carefully, because this isn’t a story I like to tell.”
Yang hardened her gaze, every inch of her body pinging as she prepared to hear the hidden truth about her unknown family members. Raven slid her sword back into its sheath before launching into her lengthy explanation.
“We started out as comrades, Tai and I. Teammates on a team at Beacon Academy.”
Yang’s mouth dropped open. “The one you were on with Uncle Qrow?”
“Yes,” Raven said with a nod. “Your father and I decided it was best for you not to live a life split between the two of us. It would only cause unnecessary stress. So we agreed that he would take Ruby, and I would take you.”
“Why didn’t you stay together? And how did you decide which of us you would take?”
“That part...is complicated. Tai and I had a nice life together in Patch, at first.”
Yang felt anger building again, but simmered down before her mother noticed anything. This was news, if she’d ever heard any. Not only did her mother hide her family members’s existence, but she intentionally gave Yang the impression that apart from Beacon Academy, the tribe was the only home she knew. She lied for years on end.
“So what happened?” Yang urged, rocking back and forth in anticipation.
“You see, your father and I view the world very differently, Yang. He wanted to stay together and live a happy life that I knew was never going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“My duty is to the tribe. I always intended to go back someday. It’s not like I didn’t tell him. I guess he just never really believed me. Even so, I admit he almost convinced me to stay.”
Yang gulped, choosing her next words carefully, as Raven didn’t openly discuss this next subject. “What about Salem?”
All sound seemed to vanish from the space. A soft breeze blew through Yang’s hair, as if in foreboding of the topic at hand. Pausing for a long moment, her mother looked up into the air, seeming to recall something important.
“We had different ideas about how to deal with Salem, to put it simply. Also, there’s one more thing. Tai has Ruby, and I have you, because I’m not Ruby’s mother. Her mother was your uncle’s, your father’s, and my fourth teammate. Her name was Summer Rose.”
Taking a breath, Yang tried her best to absorb all of this information. Taiyang and her stepmother were part of the team Raven used to tell her about? She’d conveniently left that part out in the past when she talked about those days. There was so much the young princess still wanted to know, and so much she never realized she didn’t know until today. This was getting to be too much. All of the stuff her mother already told her about Salem, who commanded the creatures of Grimm, and the magical Maiden powers and bird form Raven possessed, should have made it impossible for anything to shock her anymore, and yet….
“What happened to Ruby’s mother?” Yang asked tentatively, not entirely sure she wanted to know once the words left her mouth. However, there was no point turning back now. “You said her name was Summer Rose, didn’t you?”
“We barely made it out alive after our foolish battle with Salem. I wanted to stop, to live free of her, far away from anything to do with all of that. I thought about asking Tai to come with me back to the tribe, but I knew from our previous talks not to bother. Your uncle and Summer chose to stay, too, and fight for Ozpin.”
Raven sighed and took another swig of water. “Summer paid the ultimate price for that blind loyalty. While she was out on her last mission, she went missing. It didn’t take much to put together what happened.”
Yang didn’t know what to say, so she just sat there taking everything in. She could tell by Raven’s shifts in tone that this was a very tough subject to discuss, so she didn’t interrupt her.
“The craziest thing is, at one point I seriously entertained the idea of leaving the tribe and staying in Patch to raise you. But the more rational decision was to leave with you while I could. Your father and I had a big fight over whether or not to keep helping Ozpin. Seeing that I couldn’t change his mind, I...I decided I had to do what was safest for us.”
“You mean taking me away?” Yang asked gently, her chest heavy with emotion.
“Yes. Then when I heard what happened to Summer, I knew that even though it wasn’t easy, I’d made the right choice.”
Yang stared at Raven, stunned by her story. It was difficult to imagine a time when her mom wasn’t one-hundred percent committed to the Branwen Tribe. Deep down, she wondered who Raven believed her choice was right for - her family, or herself? Thinking back, something clicked in her mind. She still needed to be sure, though. Everyone, even her mother, deserved the benefit of the doubt.
Growing misty-eyed, Raven stopped short. She turned away from Yang, shoving her feelings back beneath the surface, and then looked up again.
“I...I think I understand,” Yang said. “Mostly.”
“I’m sure you still have so many questions.”
“Yeah,” Yang scoffed, eyes widening for emphasis. “Of course I do! But one last question.”
Raven nodded.
“Why did you ask how I felt about our tribe before you told me all of this? You must have had personal reasons.”
Her mother looked at the ground.
The princess continued, her tone a touch firmer. “Would you have told me the truth if I gave a different answer?”
The whistle of a gust of wind was her only reply.
Yang glared down her nose at Raven. “I figured as much.” She shook her head, getting to her feet and stepping back a few paces. “And to think I almost wanted to believe in you again.” She turned to walk away, but Raven sprang up and grabbed her by the wrist faster than she could react.
“Yang,” Raven whispered, so close that Yang could feel every warm breath she took. “Wait.”
Left with no other choice, Yang froze, taking one long look at the woman she used to be proud to call her mother. She had no clue who this new person before her was, and didn’t care to find out. Raven’s long dark hair fell limply down her face, blocking it from view.
They stayed in that position for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, Raven relinquished her grip, and Yang stormed off into the distance. There was no point keeping up appearances any longer. All eyes were on them now.
Yang’s mind reeled as she walked away. What should she do now? For the first time in her life, she couldn’t ask either of the people she formerly looked up to and trusted for guidance. Her feelings about Vernal were still up in the air, but her mother had just made it very clear that she would go to amazing lengths to preserve her own self interests versus sharing vital details about her daughter’s identity. Predictably, Vernal approached and tried to stop her.
“I did what you said. I listened,” Yang spat, pushing past Vernal before she could get a single word out. She continued on until she was far enough away from the group.
Standing alone, Yang looked up, watching the beaming sun slowly set on the tribe. Every member she passed appeared visibly shaken to their core by the incident they just witnessed. Somewhere under that vast sky, Yang knew her father must be looking up, too, and thinking of her.
In light of recent events, Yang didn’t know what to think, or how to proceed. Princess or not, she belonged neither here, nor in Patch with her father and half-sister. There was no stable home for her to go to for shelter. She was the outcast. The unnecessary baggage.
The other daughter.