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Cinder and Emerald watched the end of a fight from beyond the treeline. It was between their target, a man named Marcus Black, and a younger man. Cinder didn’t know why they were fighting. All she knew was that the young man had the upper hand and their target was going to lose.
As much as she loves to see damnation, fights to the death, and all that good stuff… she can’t have her target be dead. His skills were vital. They didn’t just go after a random target; his skillset was unique—and not easily replicated.
Marcus was an assassin, and a rather good one at that. But there was also something else to him that made him special. Her master, Salem, had very few weaknesses. One of them were silver eyed warriors. Marcus was one of these silver eyed warriors. But unlike his folk, he had a twisted moral and could easily join Cinder’s group. He had donned the assassin life and hid in the mountains, too far away for Ozpin to locate—he wasn’t tainted by that man’s foolishness.
If Marcus died, then their target wouldn’t get recruited. That was bad. He was good at what he did and would be useful. But if he did die, then one silver eyed warrior would as well. That was beneficial to Salem’s plan. And if this young man managed to kill Marcus… well, Cinder may have a proposition for him.
So she decided to see who the victor of this fight would be.
Emerald watched the fight, then she glanced at Cinder whilst wondering what to do. Cinder raised her hand, symbolising for Emerald to stay put. They would not do anything with much haste.
The young man quickly finished off Marcus. He stood by the corpse, seemingly out of breath. This was when Cinder struck. She walked out of the treeline and onto the path, followed by Emerald. They stopped a few metres from the young man, keeping their distance. He glared at them, standing on his last legs. Emerald was slightly wary, she moved to a position where she could easily grab her weapons should it come to that.
Cinder looked at the young man, amused. His legs were bleeding through thickly wrapped bandages, the fight didn’t help with keeping the wound close. His aura must have been depleted by now, but he seemed as if he would still fight. There was a forming bruise under his left eye, his right was covered by silver bangs.
He spoke first:
“What are you looking at?”
“I’m looking for Marcus Black,” Cinder explained.
The young man spat towards the corpse lying on the ground. He then gestured to it. “There you go.”
Cinder looked at the corpse. This was Marcus. This was the silver eyed warrior. An assassin slain by a teenager?
Emerald must have been thinking the same thing. For she eased her stance and spoke, “That’s the assassin?”
Cinder looked at Marcus, closely, and then at the young man. She could see some sort of resemblance. Though nothing to cement her forming idea. But… why would Marcus be living along with a young man unless…
“And you’re his son,” she realised.
He wiped blood from his nose in response.
Cinder continued to speak, “We saw your fight from the treeline. He’s taught you well.”
“Guess so.” That was all the late assassin’s son had to say.
Cinder slightly tilted her head, amused by him. “What’s your name?”
“Mercury.”
“Mercury,” she repeated. “Tell me, are you anything like your father?”
He glanced at the corpse. “No. I’m still alive.”
Cinder raised her eyebrows at that response. It was… amusing. This whole scenario was amusing. She spoke up again:
“Do you know who I am?”
“No,” he said. “Who?”
“I am Cinder Fall, and this is my associate Emerald,” she introduced. “We were looking for your father in order to offer a proposition—which I think you can fill instead.”
“What proposition?” he demanded.
“My master,” she began, “is looking for power—real power—and I can get it for her. All I need is some assistance. Emerald, here, has already agreed to this. You can too. If you help me, not only will you secure a spot on the victorious side—but you will reap in rewards.”
“I don’t fancy any rewards,” he said, “so, leave.”
“We will,” Cinder assured, “but I have one question to ask.”
“Which is?”
“Do you enjoy chaos and being an assassin?” she wondered. “I can promise loads of chaos if you join me. You can help in the fall of Vale. You could help in its destruction.”
“As much as I do like destruction, I’m still not seeing a reason why I should join your ‘party’,” Mercury admitted. “I could just watch from here.”
“From here?” she asked, looking at the burning house. “Anyway, you won’t. I can tell, Mercury, that you enjoy taking part in destruction. Don’t you?”
Mercury didn’t answer.
Cinder sighed, “Very well.” She turned to Emerald. “Let’s go.”
The two turned and started to walk down the path when Mercury called out to them.
“Wait.”
She stopped. A nefarious smile worked its way onto her face. Yet when she turned to face him, it disappeared. “Yes?”
“This group,” he started, “what exactly are you looking for?”
She looked at him. “Something more powerful than anyone would think.”
“So it’s dangerous?” he wondered.
“Very.”
“Alright,” he declared, “I’ll join your group.”
She smiled. “Wonderful.”
He walked over to them. She got a good look at his features. His silver hair wasn’t a trick of the light, it was truly silver. Much like his… eyes. To the untrained eye, they would seem grey—but that was only because of the lighting. Cinder looked at them, did he have silver eyes? It would make sense, Marcus had them, and he was his father.
That didn’t matter.
She would deal with that later.
“Mercury?” she wondered. “Have you ever heard of the story of the Four Maidens?”
“Has anyone told you that your red eyes make it seem like you're angry all the time?”
“Mercury. Shut up.”
“What? I’m just pointing out a fact!”
“An useless fact that doesn’t need to be mentioned.”
“Whatever.”
Currently, Mercury and Emerald were in their dorm at Beacon. Cinder was out, so it was just the two of them. To blow time, Mercury decided that bugging Emerald was the best pastime.
“But I’m serious,” he started, “it just makes it seem like you’re always angry!”
“Maybe because I’m always angry at you!” Emerald suggested. “Have you thought of that?”
He thought for a moment. “Yup. Then I think ‘no one could always be mad at someone everyday’. So your logic is flawed.”
She sighed in annoyance. “My eyes do not make me look angry. Yours just make you look stupid. Though, it doesn’t take much too.”
“Ouch!” he hissed. “Getting stabbed would hurt less than that. Vicious.”
“Ah huh.”
“Besides, my eyes don’t make me look stupid,” he muttered. “You just can’t see properly if anything.”
Emerald slammed the book she was looking through onto the desk. She spun her chair around and glared at Mercury, who was lying down on his bed. “At least my eyes aren’t the same colour as our enemy.”
“What are you talking about?” he wondered. “I don’t think any of our enemies have grey eyes.”
“Grey,” she scoffed. “Only a man would think them grey.”
“That’s sexist!”
“What I mean is that men tend to not distinguish colours properly,” she said.
“Slightly less sexist!”
She glared at him. “You’ve had your eyes for your entire life, but you can’t even tell that they are silver.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. Then he burst out laughing.
She furrowed her brow. “What’s so funny?”
“You!” he tried to control his laughter. “You think my eyes are silver?”
“They are.”
He wiped a tear from his eye. “That’s good. Nice joke, Em. But we both know that they are grey. Ruby’s eyes are silver, mine are grey. There is a difference.”
“Look in a mirror,” she grumbled, “and stop bugging me.”
He furrowed his brow and stood up. He walked into the washroom and did look at himself in the mirror. Mercury leaned toward the mirror and looked at his eyes. There didn’t seem to be a colour change. They were grey. He sighed and hung his head down. Emerald got her facts wrong. His eyes were grey.
Grey.
Not silver.
Not like Ruby’s eyes.
Not like his father’s eyes.
His eyes were grey. Not silver.
And Mercury would rather die than admit they were.
Ozpin knew that there were criminals among his school. He was the headmaster of Beacon, one of the best huntress and huntsmen school in all of Remnant. He had connections. A lot of connections. Not only a connection with an Atlas general, but other smaller connections. But enough connections in the Vale Police Force in order to find criminal records.
Such records that a few students had.
It didn’t matter much to Ozpin where the students came from. But he did like to know where some students may be going with their lives, or how they think. A professor cannot complete their work unless they help the students. And this was his way of helping students.
When an ex-criminal enters his school (whether foreign exchange or not), he thinks of it as them turning a new leaf. Qrow and his sister came from bandits, Blake from the White Fang, Emerald from thievery, Jaune from forging transcripts, and Mercury from Marcus Black.
Marcus Black.
It would be a lie if one said that there wasn’t an infinitesimal amount of joy in Ozpin’s heart when he heard the news of Marcus’ death.
Marcus Black. An assassin. One never caught for his assassinations, but by a housefire—so it seems. Ozpin wondered if there was something else to it, but never pried. It wasn’t his job. And it seems that Marcus would never do his again. As unfortunate as a death is, when someone who kills people as a recreational activities goes… there’s a lot more cheer in the air than gloom.
Though Ozpin would never admit it, he was concerned about what could possibly kill a professional assassin like Marcus. A housefire? No. It didn’t seem likely. There was something else at work there. But, as long as they didn’t keep up with it, he would let it slide that once.
It was a shame, though, that Marcus died before Ozpin could try and heal his corrupted soul. He knew that Marcus was a silver eyed warrior, yes, but he also knew that the man needed his space. He was waiting until Marcus would tire from his ‘job’ and might be able to convince. The age of a silver eyed warrior does not matter as long as the ability is still intact. And seeing as none of Marcus’ victims died from his ability, it was safe to say it is.
Or was.
Since Marcus was dead.
Summer is also gone.
Two silver eyed warriors. Useless.
And the only one he has now is a fifteen-year-old girl. Teenage girls are always emotional. A silver eyed teenage girl. This would be interesting. If it didn’t backfire on him. Ozpin’s seen his share of teenage girls (being as old as he is, he’s seen people be born, grow up, and die. This is nothing new) and his share of their emotions. Even to him, women and girls are incomprehensible.
But, Marcus Black is dead. Summer is gone. Like stated above, two silver eyed warriors were gone. This was terrible. Ozpin had Summer’s daughter at his school, so at least he has one silver eyed warrior that he could protect. That was good. But Marcus…
Has a son.
A silver haired son. A son who transferred from Haven. A son who could possibly have silver eyes.
It was improbable, really. Silver eyes are rare. And though they are hereditary, they were also a recessive gene. Any dominant gene would overcome the silver eyes. They were also commonly confused with grey eyes. Quite a disappointment, really, grey eyes. So close to silver, yet so far.
Besides, if Marcus’ son was really his son then he would have received training from him. He wouldn’t trust Ozpin at all. He would also be a good suspect in his father’s death. Ozpin knew how Marcus acted—at least while out—and he couldn’t imagine the man changing much while at his home. The son was still young, though, and Ozpin could work with that.
All he wants is to lead him from the darkness that his father probably sent his soul on.
(And to stop Salem, of course.)
Ozpin, of course, promptly told Glynda to call up Mercury to his office. He had something to talk about with the young man. He didn’t tell Glynda why he wanted to talk with Mercury, of course. She did as he had instructed and, sooner than later, the elevator door dinged and opened. There stood Mercury Black. He looked around carefully before stepping into room.
“Ah, Mr. Black,” Ozpin greeted, “have a seat.” He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.
“Thanks,” Mercury grumbled as he sat down.
Ozpin tried to catch his eye, but the lighting made Mercury’s eyes look much like his surname—black.
“Now,” Ozpin started, “do you know why I called you here?”
“No,” Mercury replied. “Why?”
“Can I ask you a simple question first?” Ozpin wondered.
Mercury shifted in his seat. “That depends on the question.”
Ozpin smiled slightly. “Can you tell me what colour your eyes are?”
Mercury blinked. “Grey.”
Ozpin nodded, not fully believing him.
“What is with people and my eyes today?” Mercury muttered.
Ozpin raised an eyebrow, that was surprising. “Do you care to elaborate?” he wondered.
“It’s just…” Mercury mentally debated for a moment. “One of my teammates, Emerald made a mention of my eyes earlier. Though I think it was because I was messing with her eyes earlier.”
“Interesting.” Ozpin took a sip from his cup. “And what did she say?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Ozpin raised an eyebrow and remained silent.
“She just tried to mess with me and the colour of my eyes. She was wrong, by the way. So it doesn’t matter,” Mercury assured. “Why am I here?”
“I wanted to talk about something that piqued my interest, that’s all,” Ozpin explained. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.”
Mercury furrowed his brow.
“Mr. Black,” Ozpin started, “how much do you know about silver eyed warriors?”
“What?”
“Silver eyed warriors,” Ozpin repeated. “Have you heard about them before?”
He thought for a moment. “Yeah,” He said. “A long time ago. Why does it matter?”
Ozpin raised his eyebrows, that piqued his interest some more. “Really?” he wondered. “That’s interesting. Who told you about these warriors? Your father?”
Mercury glared at him. “What does it matter?”
Ozpin eased off, “I can see I hit a sore spot. My apologises.” He took another sip from his cup. “If I had a father like Marcus Black, though, I may also react like that.”
The young man in front of him tensed up. “What do you know about my father?” he demanded.
Ozpin smiled behind his mug. He placed it down, and the smile vanished. “I know a lot of information about Marcus—my condolences. I heard about what happened. A tragedy.”
“Yeah,” Mercury avoided Ozpin’s gaze, “a ‘tragedy’.”
“What I wanted to talk to you about is what your father may have said about these silver eyed warriors,” Ozpin explained. “I would asked him himself, but… he was already passed before I got the chance to.”
Mercury sighed, “I don’t remember much of what he said. Just… the person recruiting them was a bastard—or something like that. He didn’t like them. It makes sense I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
Mercury closed the walls that were about to crumble. “Nothing.”
Ozpin nodded. “Mr. Black,” he thought, “did your father say your eyes were grey? Or was that your own judgement?”
“Why does it matter?” Mercury demanded. “I don’t see any purpose to this conversation.”
“Can you please just answer my question. Then you can leave.”
Mercury looked up at Ozpin. Staring at him, unafraid. “It’s my own. Can I go now?”
Ozpin saw a little glint of silver from the assassin’s eyes. He hid his smile. “You have silver eyes.”
Mercury glared at him. “No I don’t. I don’t get why people keep saying that. My eyes are grey. My hair—silver. My eyes—grey. End of conversation.”
Ozpin smiled. “Very well. You may leave.”
Mercury stood up and made his way towards the door. He pushed the down button and waited for the elevator to open. As the doors open, Ozpin called out:
“I’d be careful of who I make enemies of, Mr. Black,” he warned, “or you could end up much like your father.”
Mercury glared at him, seething, but said nothing. The elevator’s door closed, and Mercury began his descend.
Ozpin slumped back in his chair. Exasperated.
What exactly did Marcus do to this child?
Mercury didn’t go straight to his dorm. He didn’t want to face Cinder or Emerald and be bombarded with questions. Instead, he took a U-turn and headed around Beacon. He decided to take the long way around the school. By going the opposite room as the dorm and walking around the building.
Why did Ozpin demand so much about his eyes? It was stupid. His eyes were grey, not silver. His eyes were too dark to be silver. Besides, why did Ozpin know so much about his father. Marcus wasn’t a famous assassin. No one who knew him knew that he was an assassin. Much less that his son was one as well. Though, it seems that Ozpin didn’t know that he was also an assassin. That was good.
It Ozpin knew, then he may have had to kill him.
If that was even possible.
Mercury looked up at the sky. The sun was setting. Curfew would be soon. He didn’t care. He had much to think about. He breathed in the garden air and tried to relax. Though that was impossible since he was always alert. It was something his father’s training made him become.
He ignored the thought and looked up at the bold sky. The colours scattered across the sky, much like the moon. Broken. Yellow, red, orange, and pink ombres. It was beautiful. Beautiful in an actual beauty way—not in a morbid way. He almost smiled. Almost.
He found a bench and sat down. Since he wanted to blow time, he decided to watch the sunset. Ha. An assassin watching the sunset. It was laughable. Almost more so when someone joined him.
“Mercury?” a voice called, uncertain.
He turned and saw a surprised Ruby Rose.
“Ruby?” he asked. “What could you be doing out here this late?”
“I was taking a walk,” she explained. “I guess you are as well.”
He nodded. “I needed to clear my head.”
“Oh.” She paused. “Can I join you?”
No. Never in a thousand years.
“Sure!”
Ruby sat beside him. Timid. Mercury didn’t say anything. He let out a large exhale. After a few moments, Ruby spoke.
“So, um, Mercury,” she started.
“Yeah?”
“I was wondering… what kind of weapons do you have?”
He blinked. This was shocking. “What?”
She blushed. “Its—not—sorry—um… sorry! I shouldn’t have asked! It’s just… I’m pretty much a weapon geek… and I don’t think I’ve seen your weapons before…”
He raised an eyebrow.
Remember what Cinder said: get close to them.
Screw Cinder.
He really hated this.
Hiding his hatred, Mercury crossed one leg over the other. “Gun boots,” he explained simply, “that’s what I use.”
Ruby’s eyes gleamed. He cringed slightly when he saw the silver colouring sparkle. “That’s so cool!” she exclaimed. Then she started to bombard him with question about how his boots work, the dust he uses, bullets, and other things he wasn’t able to understand.
“Uh…” he started. “I didn’t hear anything you said.”
She blushed again. “Sorry! I told you I was a weapon geek…”
“It’s fine.”
No it’s not.
She smiled and was about to say something before her scroll chimed. She pulled it out. “Oh! I have to go!” She looked at him. “Thanks for letting me see your weapons!”
“You didn’t even see th—”
She took off before he could finish. She used her semblance.
Speed must be her semblance. Neat.
Mercury pulled out his scroll after the sun set and saw that it was technically passed curfew. He swore and stood up before quietly heading towards his dorm. He opened the door (after not getting caught by teachers) to see an unhappy Cinder.
“Uh, hi?” he greeted.
She pulled him inside before shutting the door behind him. “Where were you?” she demanded. “You were supposed to come back here after the meeting.”
“I did,” he said. “I just took the long way.”
Cinder glared at him. “What did you talk about?”
He moved and sat down on his bed. Emerald was in the chair she was earlier, apparently, she finished what she was looking at earlier.
“Nothing much,” he shrugged, “we’re not caught if that’s what your wondering. He’s none the wiser.”
“That’s good and all,” Emerald added, “but what did you talk about?”
Mercury thought for a moment. “He asked me a question, I answered, we chatted, and I left.”
“Your avoiding the question,” Cinder said. “Mercury, what did he ask?”
“He asked me what colour my eyes were,” Mercury admitted. “There. Happy? See, I told you—nothing important.”
Cinder look lost in thought. “And what was your answer?”
“Grey,” he said, “cause they are. What is with everyone and my eyes today?”
Cinder didn’t hear him. “And what did you talk about?”
“Something about… silver eyed warriors,” he explained. “Like that means anything.”
She looked at him, fire in her amber eyes. “Anything else? Did he talk about anything else?”
Mercury thought. I’m keep personal business personal. “No. Shortly after that, I left.”
“Are you sure?” she demanded. “Nothing else? Nothing at all?”
He furrowed his brow. “Yeah. He talked about nothing else.”
Cinder nodded before thinking. “And what did you say about the silver eyed warriors?”
“That I’ve heard about them before. That’s all. Weren’t they in a fairy-tale or something?”
“Did he mention your father?” Cinder wondered.
Mercury blinked. “What?”
“Your father, Marcus Black, did he mention him?”
“What? No! I doubt that he knows we’re related. Black is a common surname,” Mercury explained. “Why?”
Cinder sighed, “Nothing. It’s fine. We just have to be extra careful around Ozpin.”
“Weren’t we before?” Emerald wondered.
“Even more careful,” Cinder said. “I think he may suspect something isn’t right. We need to fix that.” She turned to him, “If anyone else mentions silver eyed warriors again, you tell me immediately. You understand?”
“Yeah. But what’s so special about them?” he wondered.
Aw… Cinder’s acting like a momma bear! She does care!
I’ll taunt her about that later.
“Nothing you need to be concerned about.” Cinder brushed him off.
“Really?” he asked. “Because I just met up with Ruby and she has silver eyes. Much like silver eyed warriors…”
Cinder turned to face him. “I already know that. But she’s too inexperienced to be a warrior.”
“Not if Ozpin trains her,” Emerald mentioned.
“But he won’t,” Cinder assured, “he won’t get the chance too. Especially with the Vytal Festival going on. He’ll be too busy.”
“I suppose…” Emerald agreed.
“Mercury,” Cinder ordered, “pretend that you didn’t tell us about this. It would be better if Ozpin didn’t know we know about the silver eyed warriors.”
“Got it,” he assured.
“Good,” Cinder said. “Now. Everyone get some rest. Tiredness will only handicap you.”
When he was five, his father first told him about them. There wasn’t much information to go along with it, but he received a warning:
“Don’t let anyone know you have silver eyes.”
It was an odd concept for a five-year-old. Lying about eye colour. It made no sense. But he followed his father’s instruction. He wanted to make his father proud!
When he was ten, he managed to make his first friend. He wasn’t allowed out into the nearby town much, but once he was permitted to join his father on a trip. He tagged behind his father as they walked through the market, it was packed full of people—just like how his father liked it.
“Less chance of getting caught.” He would say.
And apparently it was easy to get lost in as well. Because soon he found himself lost. He tried to find his father but couldn’t. He almost cried. Then a voice in the back of his head yelled at him:
“You’re an assassin! Stop crying and do something!”
So the ten-year-old took to walking through the streets. Looking for the familiar form of his father. He didn’t manage to find him, but he found someone else. A friend.
His friend helped him by escorting him out of the crowd and into a large abandoned building.
“Thank you,” he said.
“No problem." Friend smiled. “What’s your name?”
He told him.
“Ah,” Friend nodded, “I’m [Forgotten].”
“Have you seen my dad?” he asked.
“What does he look like?” Friend asked.
He gave him a description of what his father looked like.
Friend shook his head. “Nope. Haven’t seen him. So you’re alone right?”
He nodded.
“That’s… too bad.”
Before he knew it, some of Friend’s friends came and surrounded him. They told him that it was initiation into their friend group. But he said he didn’t want to join their group. He was content with just Friend.
Well, Friend didn’t like this. And Friend hurt him. Hurt him really badly.
He felt so weak that he decided to listen to his father. His father told him to never be weak. But he was weak now. So he decided to not be weak anymore.
When his father found him, half an hour later, he was covered in blood. Surrounded by dead bodies.
When he was ten, he made his first and last friend.
When he was fifteen, he became resentful.
He demanded that his father tell him why he has to hide his eye colour. Why he has to lie. Why everything is as it is.
And his father, not drunk for once, listened.
He told him about the silver eyed warriors, and about a professor who wanted to train them. He was told that the professor was an idiot who had foolish hopes. He was told that it was critical that he keeps the secret of his eye colour a secret.
Then he killed him.
And he met her.
And he joined her.
And he kept it a secret for two years.
And now his secret is about to be found out.
And this was not good.
He was told that if he was found out, he would die.
Well… you do either get murdered or you kill yourself.
Neither of that was a pleasant option.
When he was seventeen, he felt his whole world crumble.
Mercury’s eyes shot awake. He could see a dark ceiling above him. His breathing rapid, suddenly it felt very warm in the room. He sighed and grabbed his scroll. He looked at the time:
3:45 am.
It was too early for this.
He laid back in bed and covered his eyes with his arm. Maybe he could fall asleep.
After waiting what felt like an hour, Mercury sighed and grabbed at his scroll.
3:49 am.
He groaned and closed his eyes.
Well, he wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon.
He wanted to sleep. But nooooo his stupid mind had to conquer up memories he would rather forget. Memories he thought he burrowed away. But apparently, he hadn’t burrowed them away good enough. Now it’s going to take a few more years to completely forget them.
Stupid Ozpin.
If only he hadn’t talked to Mercury, then he wouldn’t be remembering things. He could be sleeping now.
And now Mercury couldn’t disappear like his father since he would have both sides of this war looking for him.
Just great.
Way to go, Merc. A+ buddy.
He stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t even like he could walk around, there was curfew, and he couldn’t tune up his prosthetics since his team would hear him. He was trapped with only his mind to keep him company. Mercury groaned once more.
He would have groaned again if he wasn’t hit with a bundle of paper
He looked at the scrunched ball and unfolded it. Using his scroll as light he read what it is:
‘Why are you groaning? You hurt or something?’
If it was Emerald, she would have slapped him. Cinder would have demanded why she was woken up. This meant it was only Neo left to be the culprit.
Mercury almost forgot about the Neapolitan dressed girl. It helps that she doesn’t say anything.
He looked up and saw Neo sitting on her bed, unamused.
She typed something onto her scroll.
‘Stop making so much noise. I was trying to sleep.’
Mercury sighed and turned on his scroll. He typed as well.
‘Sorry
‘Emerald’s snoring woke me’
Right on cue, Emerald snored loudly.
Neo sighed. ‘I don’t believe you. But whatever. Just don’t wake me up again.’
‘K’
Neo shut off her scroll and flipped onto her side. Mercury turned his off as well and laid down on his bed. He kept staring at the ceiling. Eventually he closed his eyes once more.
He finally fell into a dreamless sleep.
The next few days were hell for Mercury.
Firstly: Ruby was trying to be chummier with him. He played along since he had a cover to maintain, but he hated it. She kept asking him questions about his weapons. He answered, of course, but kept them very vague. It seemed to please her.
Secondly: It seemed that Cinder was watching him more carefully. Before, she wouldn’t even look at him when they were at lessons—but it seems that she was now observing his every movement. It made him shiver, but he acted like he didn’t notice her. He was an assassin, of course he would notice.
Thirdly: Qrow Branwen arrived. It didn’t seem like he recognised Mercury from the fight with Amber—but it was uneasy. It seemed like the drunken man was also keeping an eye on him. Mercury knew that Qrow worked with Ozpin, so he must be doing Ozpin a favour—or something among those lines.
So now he was getting more attention than he liked.
Both team RWBY and JNPR were chatting with him like they were friends. Even though one of Mercury’s skills is espionage, Emerald was supposed to be getting closer with them. It seemed like their roles reversed. Now he was ‘hanging’ with his new ‘friends’. It was like before, just without Emerald for most of the time. She was doing something, Mercury didn’t exactly know what it was.
But he wished that he was doing what she was doing instead.
Currently, he was sitting with team RWBY and JNPR at lunch. The rest of Mercury’s team was off doing something else. He could spot Neo across the cafeteria, probably eating some ice cream. He tuned out of the conversation until Ruby tapped his arm.
“What?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing much.” She smiled. “We were just talking about Yang’s semblance and how her eyes turn red. Then we got onto the topic of eye colours.”
“It’s like everyone is obsessed with eye colours,” Mercury grumbled. “Why do they matter so much? It’s just the colour of our irises.”
“Really?” Yang asked. “Then what colour are my eyes.”
“Violet.”
She shook her head. “Lilac.”
“Cool,” He said, emotionless.
“So,” Nora started, “you and Ruby have silver eyes!”
He blinked. “No. I have grey. Not silver.”
“Are you sure?” she wondered.
“100% positive that my eyes are grey.” He nodded. “Besides, who knows my eyes better than myself?”
She screwed up her face in thought. “Hmmm…. Okay!”
And just like that, they went back to their own conversation.
Mercury finished his lunch and got up from the table.
“Where are you going?” Weiss demanded.
“I’m just going to take a walk around, don’t worry about it,” he assured.
“Have fun!” Ruby called.
He slightly nodded before leaving the cafeteria. The loud conversation between the two teams died out. He thrived in the silence. Mercury walked around Beacon, noticing some of the other students were eating outside. It made sense, it was a beautiful day. He just needed to be alone with his thoughts. There wasn’t much time lately where he was able to be just alone. Someone would always be with him; whether it was Ruby, Emerald, or Cinder.
He mustn’t have noticed where he was walking because he almost walked into a figure.
“Hey! Watch it!” a gruff voice called.
“Sorry.” Mercury froze. He smelt a strong stench of alcohol, much like his fathers. Looking up he saw the tired face of Qrow Branwen.
Shi—
Mercury moved to walk around him when Qrow reached out his arm and stopped him.
“Hold it,” the Huntsman said, “have I seen you before?”
Mercury shrugged. “I don’t think so. But I have one of those faces.”
Qrow looked like he didn’t believe him. “Wait a second. You’re that guy who has been recently hanging around my nieces.”
“I think your mistaking me for that Arc guy,” Mercury suggested.
Qrow shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen him alone with them yet. But I have seen you…”
“I think your mistaken.” Mercury shrugged. “That happens to people. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have places to be.”
Once again, he tried to leave, once again Qrow stopped him.
I could break your arm right now and kill you without hesitation.
Remember what Cinder said.
Screw what Cinder said.
“What’s your name?” Qrow asked.
“What’s yours?” he snapped. Then recoiled. He didn’t mean to snap at Qrow, but he didn’t like to be talking to the Huntsman alone. This was a position he didn’t like to be in.
Remember your training.
That I can do.
Qrow raised an eyebrow. “Qrow Branwen.”
Huh. So he actually gave him his name. Mercury already knew it, of course. But Qrow did go first, it would be rude to not at least tell him. “Mercury.”
“Mercury what?”
“Black.”
Qrow nodded. “You know, I used to know a man by the name of Black. Don’t know what happened to him though.”
Mercury didn’t say anything regarding that sentence. Though he figured that Qrow was referencing his father.
“I have a place to be, so if you could move….?” Mercury tried again.
“Where are you heading?” Qrow wondered.
Mercury looked up at him, his brow furrowed. The man’s red eyes stared down at him. “I’m about to meet my team in our dorm.”
“Huh.” Qrow thought for a moment. “Hey, why don’t I come with you? I haven’t been to Beacon in some time. Good idea to look around again.”
“Why don’t you ask your nieces?” Mercury wondered. “They probably know it better.”
“How so?”
Is he playing the fool? Or is he really stupid? “I’m an exchange from Haven for the Vytal Festival.”
Qrow raised his eyebrows at this. “Oh? Wouldn’t have guessed.”
Mercury looked down at his outfit. He was wearing the Haven uniform.
“Well, I have to go. Nice talking with you, Mr. Branwen—”
“Call me Qrow.”
“—Qrow,” Mercury corrected, “but I have to leave now.”
He turned and managed to walk passed Qrow. The man disappeared from both his peripheral vision and hearing. Mercury let out a sigh of relief.
What did Qrow want from him?
So this was kid Oz warned me about?
Qrow walked down the path. He was heading towards Ozpin’s office and accidentally bumped into Mercury.
It was totally an accident.
He wasn’t following the kid.
Totally.
Ozpin had warned Qrow of another silver eyed warrior—one besides from Ruby. But for them to be a Black.
Of course, Qrow knew that he was Marcus Black’s son—Ozpin had told him what he knew about Mercury. He wanted for Qrow to learn more information about him. This wouldn’t be easy. From the interaction Qrow just had with Mercury, he seemed to be secretive about his information. He didn’t even want to tell Qrow his name until he knew Qrow’s first.
And if what Ozpin said was correct, then he could not know he is a silver eyed warrior. Or the fact his father was. Or the fact that he has silver eyes. He told Ozpin that he has grey eyes. Something wasn’t adding up… did Marcus do something to Mercury while he was younger. No. Marcus didn’t care enough about people to give a warning about anything.
He was selfish.
A selfish bastard.
Qrow had his work cut out for him. Not only does he have to worry about Amber’s coma, but he has to keep watch over a student. He had to be extra vigilant since the people who attacked Amber could be trying to attack her again. They wouldn’t know where she was, though, and that gave them the upper hand.
That woman…
Those two kids…
One with dark skin and one with prosthetics.
What could have led them down that path that they attacked an innocent girl? Without a doubt, Amber wouldn’t have done anything to initiate the battle. She was too kind-hearted. They attacked her deliberately because of the Fall Maiden’s powers. They attacked, almost killed her, scarred her, and placed her in a coma.
People like them… they don’t deserve to be.
Ozpin already theorised that they worked for Salem. It made sense. Having control over one of the most powerful people in the world was smart. Too bad it meant that those kids were now his enemy. If they got into a fight, he would be responsible for bringing them down.
As much as Qrow dislikes fighting kids… they chose the path they’ll take.
They’ll have to face the consequences of their actions.
The good news was that Ozpin could focus on training Mercury and leave his niece out of this. It wasn’t her battle. It wasn’t any of their battles. They were just… thrown in the middle of a battle they shouldn’t have to fight.
The only flaw with the plan is that Mercury seems to be in denial of his silver eyes.
That was not good.
Qrow would have to fix that.
Because there was no way in hell that that boy’s eyes are grey.
Qrow’s seen silver eyes.
His niece has silver eyes.
That boy has silver eyes.
Whether or not he accepts it.
Mercury actually went to the dorm, surprisingly. It was empty. That made sense, it was lunch and people were out eating. He walked over to this bed and sat down. He rolled up his pant leg and placed one leg over the other.
Since he had nothing else to do, he decided to do some quick maintenance on his legs. He checked all of the screws (discovering one that was starting to get loose. It was an easy fix with the screwdriver that he keeps on his person) and the dust compartments—which were full. He then checked his other leg.
As he was finishing up his maintenance on his last leg, a crow cawed from outside the window.
“Shut up!” he ordered the bird. He went back to finishing replacing a screw.
The crow cawed again and again and again and again… and Mercury got fed up.
He jumped to his feet—accidentally dropped the new screw on the floor and it rolled under his bed—and marched over to the window. He opened it and waved his hand at the crow in the tree.
“Go away!” he demanded.
The bird got scared away by him and left the assassin alone.
Mercury sighed before closing the window and turning around.
“Now,” he said, “where’s that screw?”
It wasn’t on the bed. He sighed, realising that it must have rolled onto the floor. He carefully lowered himself down (which was difficult when one of his legs wouldn’t bend without the screw) and reached under his bed. After a few minutes of fumbling around, he found it.
Mercury crawled up from under the bed and sat down.
“Found you, sucker,” he said to the screw.
He grabbed his screwdriver and began screwing in the screw.
Finally! He was able to bend his leg!
He sighed in relief and rolled down his pant leg. Mercury then stood up and pocketed his screwdriver. He placed the extra screws away.
He then left the room and headed down the hallway. He had classes that were about to start.
Including Prof. Goodwitch’s sparring class.
Standing atop a building during the Battle of Beacon, Mercury filmed.
Cinder had just left him and Emerald alone. They should be safe, away from the battle but close enough to film the disaster.
No one knew where they were.
That was good.
While he filmed, Emerald watched the invasion. Neither of them said anything for a while.
“Hold up,” Mercury said, “is that Qrow down there?”
“Where?” She tried to spot him.
He pointed over in the direction of where he could see the Huntsman. “There—”
He froze.
Qrow turned and looked directly at Mercury. Though, that was impossible. He shouldn’t be able to see them from where he was. Though… Qrow’s eyes seem to bore straight into him.
“Uh, Em,” Mercury started, “I think you should film from now.”
“I thought you volunteered,” Emerald mentioned.
“I did,” he assured, “but there's something I may have to do.”
She sighed but grabbed the scroll from his hands.
While Emerald filmed, Mercury walked over to the corner of the roof. Qrow’s eyes followed him. He turned to General Ironwood while keeping his eyes on the assassin. He said something to him, much to the general’s displeasure. Then Qrow took off.
Mercury furrowed his brow at that.
“I’ll be back,” he said to Emerald before he jumped off of the roof.
“What do you—hey!” she called to him.
He landed onto the other roof and took off.
Qrow waited for the silver eyed boy. Harbinger was out, waiting to strike. Qrow waited on the top of a building. Off to the side from the middle of the battle. He knew that Marcus raised this kid and he shouldn’t be surprised, but he is.
To think, the same boy who became friends with his niece was the same one who attacked Amber.
And he only found out by trailing him back to his room and watching him fix up his prosthetics.
It may be true that he didn’t see what their faces looked like, but he surely remembers someone not having legs.
Qrow watched as Mercury propelled himself to the top of the roof. He narrowed his eyes at the boy’s carefree nature.
“What’s the matter?” Mercury wondered, a smirk on his face. He noticed Qrow’s hate. “Not enjoying the show?”
“A show?” Qrow asked. “You think this is a show?”
“Finest entertainment in all of Remnant.”
Qrow gripped Harbinger tighter. “Entertainment? This is not entertainment. People are dying down there, risking their lives for the safety of everyone! And you think this is entertainment?”
“Yes.” Mercury cracked his knuckles. “You see, I’ve become too accustomed to death that I now find it hilarious.”
“Just like your father.”
Mercury glared at Qrow, clenching his fists. “What.”
Qrow looked at Mercury. “Your father, Marcus Black, used to be an esteemed Huntsman. Until he went rouge and started to become an assassin. No one knows why he did, but I know. Oh, do I know.
“Marcus was insane. He enjoyed fighting Grimm. He loved it. But after defeating a small post of White Fang, he decided that fighting and killing people were better. So he left,” Qrow explained. “After missions, I would hear stories of him laughing over the bodies of the White Fang he killed.
“Before, I couldn’t see the family resemblance,” Qrow pointed out, “but now I do.”
“I don’t know if this is a big surprise to you,” Mercury started, “but I don’t care for my father. If I did, I wouldn’t have killed him.”
“I would say I’m surprised,” Qrow watched Mercury seize him up, “but I’m not. If Marcus was my father, I may have killed him as well.”
“How did you spot us?” Mercury demanded.
“Standing on the edge of a building is not the smartest idea if you don’t want to get spotted,” Qrow explained.
“So what are you going to do?” he wondered. “Don’t you have a responsibility to protect the people? Why are you spending your time with me?”
“So do you," Qrow said. “You also have that responsibility.”
“No, I don’t.” Mercury shook his head. “I’m the enemy—remember?”
“You’re also a silver eyed warrior,” Qrow reminded, “and they are warriors who protect the people. Why do you turn on your responsibilities?”
“You’re sounding oddly like Ozpin,” Mercury pointed out.
“Well, when you spend time around him you tend to pick up things,” Qrow explained. “But you still didn’t answer me.”
“You’re wrong,” Mercury insisted, “I’m not a silver eyed warrior.”
“But you don’t have grey eyes,” Qrow noted, “your eyes are silver. That’s a rare trait. I only know three—now two people with that.”
“It means nothing.”
“So you’re not denying your eye colour?”
“Fine.” Mercury gritted out. “If it would make you shut up, I’ll admit it. I have silver eyes. There. Now, you’re either going to fight me or I’ll kill you. I may just kill you anyway.”
“I know you don’t want this,” Qrow locked eyes with Mercury, the silver-haired teen glared, “but I’m gonna help you. You’re not too far down this path.”
Mercury laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Qrow demanded.
“You’re acting like I can be saved,” he explained. “But it’s too late. Besides, the only reason you’re doing this is because of my eyes—don’t deny it. It’s no use. You can’t ‘help’ me.”
“Mercury,” Qrow started, “I’m not only doing this because of your eyes. You’ve been dealt a bad hand in life, that shouldn’t make it so that you should die.”
Mercury growled, “Just fight me already!”
He lunged at Qrow before jumping and firing at him. The Huntsman dodged the bullets. He reached out his scythe and created an arc in the air with the blade. It caught Mercury in his ankle and Mercury fired a round before it could take off his leg. It did tear off the bottom of Mercury’s pant legs, leaving only his weapons and the pants above the shin left.
He growled and started to rapidly fire at Qrow. The Huntsman dodged almost all the bullets, a few managed to bounce off his aura. Mercury fired air dust rounds into the sky and they aimed at Qrow. The Huntsman got bombarded with shell after shell.
The smoke lingered for a moment and Mercury relaxed.
Fighting a trained Huntsman was easier than it seemed.
Mercury started to walk away when one of his screws popped out of his leg. It rolled out of his pant leg and into the smoke. He hissed as he suddenly lost the ability to properly walk on his left leg.
“You missing something?”
Mercury turned to see Qrow standing in the middle of a small impact crater. The smoke was fading, and Mercury saw that he was holding up the screw for his leg.
“You mind passing it back?” he asked, holding out his right arm—the left was gripping his leg, keeping it from tumbling under his weight.
Qrow pocketed the screw. “No. At least, not yet.”
Harbinger fell back into the sword form and Mercury gulped—an action Qrow almost missed.
Qrow opened his mouth to say something when a huge Grimm dragon screeched across Vale. They both looked up and saw it fly over head, dropping Grimm puddles. It was heading towards Beacon Tower. Qrow glared in wrath while Mercury smirked.
“Are you going to stop that?” he wondered.
Qrow turned to him. “I have to deal with you first.”
“And what exactly are you going to do? Hmm? Arrest me?”
“Sort of.”
Mercury furrowed his brow at that. “What do you mean? There’s either arresting me or not arresting me. You can’t ‘sort of’ arrest me.”
“Well,” Qrow started, “I am a Huntsman, I get certain privileges.”
“So?”
“So.” He started to walk over to Mercury, who tried to step back from the Huntsman but forgot the fact that his left leg didn't work correctly. He fell to the ground. “Ouch,” Qrow hissed for Mercury. “Anyway, I also work for Oz—and that means I have contacts in a lot of places.”
“I’m still not understanding where this is going,” Mercury said.
That’s right. Get closer. Then I can attack you, grab the screw, hobble away, and fix my leg.
“It means that I’m going to have you arrested,” Qrow explained. He crouched down beside Mercury as to look him in the eyes. “But I’m going to have you accompany me to where we have to go to stop Salem.”
Mercury gulped.
Qrow raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You’ve heard of her? Not surprising. You probably work for her.”
Mercury didn’t correct his mistaken fact.
“But anyway—”
Before Qrow could continue, Mercury used his right leg and fired at the man’s chest. It blew Qrow back a few metres. Mercury got to his working foot and used the boots (which still worked) to propel away from Qrow. Qrow sighed and aimed Harbinger at Mercury.
While he was in the air, Mercury felt something solid hit his side.
Pain flared across his vision and he fell towards the ground.
Once he impacted with the cement, everything went black.
“Your name is Mercury Black?”
A sigh. “Yes.”
“And you are seventeen years old?”
“Yes.”
“And you were present at the Battle of Beacon?”
Another sighed. “Yes. I already told you this.”
He was ignored. “And your father is the deceased Marcus Black.”
“No.”
“Mr. Black…”
He groaned, “Fine. Yes. He was my father.”
“And why were you present at the Battle of Beacon?”
He glared. “I was filming the demise. It was my orders. I helped make it happen, might as well film it for everyone to see.”
Mercury looked at the person in front of them. They were a useless nobody who worked for Atlas Military. Their semblance was a lie detector test. So Mercury was being interrogated by Lie Detector (as he had dubbed them) because it was the only way that Ironwood would even think of accepting Qrow’s offer.
Lie Detector turned to the General, who was standing behind a one-way mirror. “He has not lied about anything.”
Ironwood must have said something to Lie Detector because they dropped Mercury’s wrist (connecting through the wrist, where the pulse was, was how Lie Detector was able to tell if someone was lying). They stood up and turned towards the door. Mercury leaned back—or as far back as his handcuffs would allow him.
He was handcuffed to a metal bar on the middle of the table. The handcuffs were specially made to counter auras. Since his prosthetic legs couldn’t be detached, they were also cuffed. Luckily, someone managed to fix the missing screw while he was unconscious. He wore his jacket, but his rerebraces and vambraces were gone; and his dust rounds were confiscated.
The door opened, and Ironwood walked inside. He wore a fresh uniform, his arms hidden behind his back. He nodded to Lie Detector and they left the two alone in the room.
Ironwood walked over to the table and sat in the chair across from Mercury. He didn’t say anything for some time.
The teenager sighed, “Are you just going to sit in silence for the whole day or…?”
“No,” Ironwood said, “I was just proving my point.”
“Which is?”
“Nothing you need to be concerned about.”
Mercury frowned at the general. “Well, I have all day. Take as long as you want.”
“I would,” Ironwood assured, “but I have a schedule.”
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
“But it will,” he promised, “because if this take to long then you will spend the rest of your life rotting in prison.”
Mercury didn’t respond.
“I would never do this for any other prisoner, but a… friend asked me for a favour,” Ironwood explained. “And seeing as this is the second favour he asked of me, he can expect that he owes me for this double.”
“So?”
“Mercury Black,” Ironwood started, “you are an assassin, correct?”
“That’s what they call me.”
“The opportunity I am thinking over could be your way to freedom—or as free as you will get,” Ironwood continued. “All you need to do is convince me to allow you this freedom.”
“If you think I’m going to rat, then you’re wrong.” Mercury leaned forward. “I may not be loyal to a fault like someone I know, but I’m not going to go against my boss. Unlike you, she won’t throw me in prison.”
“Ah, yes.” Ironwood nodded. “Ozpin had mentioned Salem before.
“Mercury,” he said, “because you are here, you’re in the same position as us in Salem’s view. She doesn’t know that you won’t ‘rat’ as you call it. The next time she sees you, she may kill you.”
“Well,” he thought, “it’s a good thing that she won’t see me in prison.”
“You really think that she won’t send someone after you?” Ironwood wondered. “You know her secrets. That’s a dangerous power.”
“Listen,” Mercury started, “I know nothing. I’m just a nobody who worked under someone under her. I haven’t even been to where she is. You ain’t getting anything from me.”
“And that someone is Cinder Fall?”
Mercury furrowed his brow.
“We have witnesses to Cinder Fall killing an innocent girl. We know she led the Grimm attack against Beacon,” Ironwood explained.
“The White Fang actually led that attack,” Mercury mentioned. “Sorry to burst your bubble—but we only used that as a distraction. We had nothing to do with that.”
“Mercury,” Ironwood sighed, “we know about the Maidens, and we know that this Cinder Fall is the new Fall Maiden. We know a lot more than you may think—or even know yourself.”
“Exactly,” he nodded, “so why don’t you take that knowledge and leave. I’m ain’t telling you anything. Might as well throw me in prison.”
Ironwood opened his mouth to speak again when someone communicating to him from behind the one-way mirror caught his attention. He glanced at the mirror, concerned. Whoever he was talking to said something else that he reconsidered.
Ironwood turned to Mercury. “You know,” he said, “silver eyes are a rare trait.”
Mercury clenched his fists and grinded his teeth. “Can people stop talking about my eyes!” he demanded. “It’s nonsense.”
“You obviously don’t know about the dragon Grimm frozen on the top of Beacon Tower—my men are dealing with it now.”
“I was knocked unconscious for most of the battle, sadly."
“I know,” Ironwood admitted, “you were found unconscious as well.”
Ironwood looked closely at Mercury’s eyes. “Like I was saying before, there is a dragon Grimm frozen at the top of Beacon Tower. Do you know why it is there?”
Mercury shrugged. “Beats me.”
“Another person with silver eyes froze it there.” He explained.
“Ruby did it then.”
Ironwood raised an eyebrow in surprise. “How did—”
“Qrow said that he only knew three silver eyed people,” Mercury explained. “One I’m guessing is my father. Since Ruby isn't his niece, I’m guessing that one of her parents had silver eyes. It’s simple genetics.”
“Well, you are correct,” Ironwood admitted. “So, you know what people with silver eyes can do.”
“Doesn’t mean I can do whatever it is she did,” he protested. “I’m better off in prison.”
“You would rather go to prison than listen to my proposition?” Ironwood wondered.
“Yeah.”
The general thought for a moment. “What I am proposing is a sort of parole. You will be under the watch of Qrow Branwen everyday. You will train under him and whoever else he deems necessary in order to control your silver eyes—”
“You don’t even know if I can do the silver eyes thing,” Mercury interrupted.
“You will wear a tracker bracelet everyday until your sentence is over,” the general continued. “You would not be permitted to preform any act of law breaking and you can only engage in battle against Grimm and in self-defence or, unless, you get explicit permission from Qrow or myself. You are not permitted a scroll and cannot contact anyone via one. You cannot buy or sell dust rounds—”
“That’s what I mostly use for my weapons!” he mentioned.
“You will not be permitted to cause any bodily harm to anyone. You may not, in any situation, resort to murder—”
“What about man-slaughter?”
“Or man-slaughter,” Ironwood said. “And you cannot send or receive any messages via the mail.”
“That’s it?” Mercury asked.
Ironwood nodded. “Now to answer your questions: you have silver eyes, that's more than enough proof of the ability; you are allowed to buy ammunition that are not dust; and no man-slaughter.”
“What if I say no?”
“You will go to prison.” Ironwood stood up. “You have one hour to decide. I’ll be back then for your decision.”
Ironwood turned and left Mercury alone in the room.
Qrow watched Mercury sit alone in the room. He had watched the conversation between Ironwood and the teenager.
Truth be told, he didn’t know what he wanted Mercury to choose.
He couldn’t forget what Mercury did to his niece, getting her arrested. He knew, of course, that his leg wound wasn’t as bad as he represented it was. He knew about the prosthetics before then. Something did seem suspicious with it—but he wasn’t able to talk with Mercury.
Looking back, he should have demanded to talk with him. He knew about the prosthetics, and so he should have demanded what actually happened out there.
He was also grateful that Ironwood agreed to this proposition. He knew that man didn’t always agreed with Qrow—especially since Qrow tended to go with what Ozpin said, and Ironwood often argued.
But now he owed the man twice.
First was a prosthetic arm he asked to be made for Yang.
And now this.
Qrow was expecting to have to repay him big time for this.
He worried about Ruby and Yang. They were both back at Patch, and he would be heading there within the next two hours. It just depended on whether or not Mercury would come as well.
He still didn’t know if he wanted to have Mercury with him or not.
It would be troublesome to have a person who couldn’t fly go with him when he looks for Oz, but it would good to actually train a silver eyed warrior.
Maybe he could try and place him on a better path. Of course, Mercury would never go on a perfect path—but maybe Qrow could help him go on a path better than the one he is on.
All he could do was wait for the decision the teen had to make.
When Mercury first woke up, he was in the med bay. His arms were handcuffed to the sides of the bed. IV’s were sticking out of his arms. It was the day after the Battle of Beacon, and the med bay was swamped with injured patients.
Unlike the other patients, though, he was isolated in his own section. He even had his own guards. It was weird, what exactly did they expect him to do?
His head ached badly, and his side felt like hell.
He silently groaned and looked around. He managed to see what the med bay looked like, and that it was early morning.
How long was he out for?
Apparently his moving managed to gain the attention of a wandering nurse. They walked over to him.
“How are you feeling?” the nurse asked. They didn’t seem happy.
“Like hell,” Mercury replied.
The nurse then checked on Mercury’s vitals and deemed him healthy. Well, healthy enough to leave the bed; they needed it for another patient. He was then escorted out of the med bay and taken to the interrogation room, where he met Lie Detector.
Now he sat in the same interrogation room.
He didn’t know if he wanted to accept the offer. It seemed suspicious. He also didn’t want to learn about his eyes. Years of lying about them really gave him a bad vibe from them.
He almost laughed. He broke his father’s number one rule: don’t let anyone know about his eyes.
Even in death he was still upsetting his father.
Mercury also didn’t want to rot in prison. He wanted to be out doing things. He never liked sitting around, waiting, he preferred hands-on experiences.
But could he survive living in prison?
Would he survive following Ironwood’s rules?
He would be betraying Cinder and Salem.
He would have to possibly fight Emerald.
But he could also not fight them.
He would also have to wear a tracker… that didn’t bode well with him. What kind of assassin let’s their position be known.
Well, I suppose I won’t be much of an assassin if I join them. I wouldn’t be able to kill anyone.
It did sound tempting though…
Just because he agrees to the terms doesn’t mean he couldn’t break the rules. What they don’t know can’t hurt them. He could always learn everything from them and backstab them. And he could find out about the other Maidens. It would be easier for Cinder to know about them if he told her who they are and where they were.
But they would know that he didn’t betray them if he was in prison.
That sounded better.
They would kill him in the other option.
Unless…
Mercury smiled.
He decided what he would be doing.
Ironwood opened the door to the interrogation room and walked inside.
Mercury was smirking at him.
Ironwood furrowed his brow. That seemed offsetting. Why would he be smirking?
“It has been one hour,” he declared, “what’s your decision.”
Mercury smiled and opened his mouth.
“I accept.”
