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Ruth Yuriya was fourteen years old when she woke one night to the sound of unfamiliar voices.
Quiet as a church mouse, she crawled out of bed and exited the room she shared with her younger sisters. Avoiding the creakiest of the floorboards with a practiced ease, she came to a stop by the stairs, crouching down behind the railing.
One floor below, Ruth spotted her parents in the kitchen… along with two men whom she didn't recognize. They were dressed in white military uniforms, not resembling any soldier Ruth had ever seen.
"The answer is no," she heard daddy say, his voice unusually cold and stern.
One of the strange men bowed his head slightly, revealing a pendant hanging from a chain around his neck. Ruth squinted, her heart skipping a beat when she realized that the pendant was an unmistakable Quincy cross. Outside of her parents and sisters, she had never before seen another Quincy.
"Our offer still stands," the soldier said. "We'll be back if you change your mind."
With that, the two men saw themselves out. Ruth heard daddy mutter a curse in his mother tongue, while mama heaved a sigh. Ruth swallowed thickly, unused to any sort of disturbance to the peaceful, almost idyllic life the Yuriya family led on the mountain.
Standing, Ruth accidentally stepped on one of those loose floorboards she tried so hard to avoid earlier. The loud squeak that followed drew her parents' attention up to her hiding spot.
"Ruth?" mama said. "Come down here, honey. You ain't in trouble."
Hanging her head, Ruth delicately made her way down the stairs. Approaching her parents, she looked up at them — neither seemed sure what to say.
"Who were those men…?" Ruth asked, glancing back and forth between mama and daddy.
Her parents shared a look, before daddy told her, "Do not worry about it. We will not be joining them."
Ruth frowned at the non-answer her father gave her.
Mama leaned over to daddy, whispering something in his ear. Daddy looked at her and nodded, then turned his attention back to Ruth.
"Ruth," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. "If we warn you ahead of time when those men return, will you take your sisters out for a few hours? They cannot know about any of this."
"O-okay," Ruth said, uncertain. "But, daddy—"
Before she could ask any more questions, daddy wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a crushing hug. For the time being, the strange men were relegated to the back of Ruth's mind.
That was two years ago. In that span of time, Ruth — now sixteen — could count on one hand the number of times those Quincy soldiers came to speak to the girls' parents, leaving Ruth to distract her sisters.
Today, though? The sisters were simply out for fun — it was a pleasant summer day, and what better way to spend it than down by the creek?
While the other girls entertained themselves, Ruth sat on a large rock, pondering the peculiar visitors for the umpteenth time. Every time they visited, she would ask her parents about them, and every time she did, they would only answer vaguely, if at all. The only thing she was certain of was that daddy was adamant about not joining them, whoever they were.
Ruth glanced down at the Quincy cross she wore around her neck. If they were fellow Quincies… why wouldn't they want to join them? Before those soldiers showed up that night, Ruth thought her parents and sisters were the only Quincies in the whole world.
Her only clue was something she overheard daddy say once: "I left my family and my country to get away from this."
Ruth looked up, doing a headcount. Gertrude, just a year younger than her, was sitting in the grass, braiding eight-year-old Abigail's hair, while twelve-year-old Vera and ten-year-old Heidi were wading in the creek's shallows, their skirts hiked up. Ruth turned her eyes to where little Maechen was sitting beside her—
All she saw was an empty spot and a faint trail of barefooted prints.
Sighing, Ruth stood and called out to the others, "Y'all sit tight, I'm gonna go look for Mae." Turning away from the creek, she quietly added, "Little legs couldn'ta taken her too far."
As she followed the tiny footprints deeper into the Appalachian woods, Ruth vaguely noticed how unusually quiet it was. There was a faint breeze rustling the leaves, yes, but the usual birdsong was absent, as was the sound of rabbits and squirrels scurrying through the undergrowth. Even the only drone of cicadas, usually ever-present this time of year, was distant.
Whatever concern Ruth felt was forgotten when she found five-year-old Maechen in a small clearing. Her little fingers were quickly plucking berries off of a wild blackberry bush and shoving them in her mouth, her lips stained purple.
"Hi, Ruth!" the youngest Yuriya sister chirped.
"Mae!" Ruth snapped, marching up to Maechen. "What do you think you're doin', wanderin' off by yourself?"
Maechen looked up at her with those blue-violet eyes that all the sisters had, before holding a plump blackberry out to her. "They're yummy."
Ruth squatted down in front of Maechen, rubbing her hand against the mess of mousey brown locks on her head. "If you wanted to go pickin' berries, you should'a just asked."
"Sorry…" Maechen said, continuing to hold the blackberry out.
Ruth took the peace offering and popped it into her mouth — Maechen was right, it was yummy. "C'mon, little miss," she said, picking Maechen up and balancing her on her hip. "Let's get back—"
All of the hairs on the back of Ruth's neck stood on end when she heard a roar, too close for comfort and definitely not a bear. No, she felt the distinct spiritual pressure of a Hollow, dripping with malice and hunger.
Thinking quickly, Ruth threw herself into a nearby hollowed out tree trunk, one arm around Maechen's midsection. "Stay quiet," she whispered, closing her hand over her sister's mouth. "Don't move. It'll be gone soon."
Maechen nodded slightly. Both girls tensed when they heard, felt great footfalls, just behind their hiding place. Ruth could feel tears gushing from her baby sister's eyes, running down her cheeks and over Ruth's hand.
Ruth was good enough with her bow, she supposed, but her parents had expressly forbidden her from ever engaging any Hollows in combat, unless it was absolutely necessary.
A shadow fell over the sisters, as a large, pale paw came into view, leaving an indent in the dirt. Maechen squirmed in Ruth's grip, her breaths leaving her nostrils rapid and fitful. The Hollow seemed to pause, before it broke out into a run. Ruth and Maechen were left to watch the impossibly large, white-masked creature weave its way through the trees away from them — and thankfully, in the opposite direction of where the other girls were.
As soon as the Hollow was out of sight, Ruth released Maechen. She scrambled a few feet forward, before collapsing to her hands and knees and vomiting all those blackberries she had just eaten, along with part of her breakfast. Once she had emptied her stomach of its contents, she started wailing, tears and snot streaming down her face. All Ruth could do was rub her sister's back, whispering whatever she thought might soothe her.
Eventually, Maechen's cries faded into small hiccups. As Ruth wiped her face with the edge of her dress, she heard the sound of several fast-moving footsteps, human footsteps, followed by a cry of, "Ruth!"
Gathering Maechen in her arms, Ruth stood, turning to see her other sisters hurrying over to them.
"You're okay!" Gertrude said, rushing to her. Abigail, Heidi, and Vera huddled around them.
Dazed, Ruth just nodded and said, "Yeah… c'mon, let's go home."
The trek back up the mountain was a long one. The sisters kept quiet and close to one another, each anticipating the Hollow to jump out of the brush at any minute. The previously pleasant summer day had become unbearably hot and sticky with humidity.
Ruth knew something was wrong the moment the house came into view. It was too still, too silent… to say nothing of that Hollow's lingering spiritual pressure.
Putting Maechen on her feet, Ruth slowly said, "Y'all stay here."
The others did as they were told, silent as Ruth picked her way toward the house. She stopped a few paces away from the front steps, before swinging a right and heading around the side. Her heart was beating its way up her throat as she walked through the tall grass.
She froze when she stepped behind the house.
Mama and daddy were lying lifeless and bloodstained in the dirt.
Ruth parted her lips, panting. She couldn't even cry, not when it felt like something had wrapped its icy claws around her throat. She walked a few steps closer, her eyes roving over the cooling corpses of her parents, daddy's arms wrapped around mama's much smaller frame.
He died trying to protect her, and it didn't even matter.
"No!"
Ruth whipped around to find Gertrude, and Vera, and Heidi and Abigail, and little Maechen standing behind her. Her sweet, naïve sisters, forced to witness this horrible, innocence-crushing sight.
--
"Eat."
It had been three days since mama and daddy died.
Heidi and Abigail spent most of their time in bed. Vera took up residence under the kitchen table. Gertrude sat at the bottom of the stairs, whittling pieces of wood into formless shapes and tossing them into the hall. Maechen rarely spoke and ate even less.
And Ruth was just trying to hold them all together.
At that moment, all of her attention was focused on the youngest of her sisters. She had made a bowl of grits, buttered and seasoned with salt and pepper… usually Mae's favorite.
"C'mon, I know you gotta be hungry," Ruth said, scooping up a spoonful of grits and holding it out to Maechen.
Maechen pressed her lips together and shook her head. Ruth expelled an exasperated sigh, returning the spoon to the bowl. If things didn't change real soon, nice Ruth was going to have to become hold-Mae-down-and-force-feed-her Ruth.
Before Ruth could start contemplating who would have to help her hold Maechen down, there was an unexpected knock on the door. Glancing around at the others, Ruth saw that Gertrude was curious enough to look up from her whittling, and even Vera poked her head out from under the table.
Ruth slowly stood, creeping toward the window. Angling herself so that she couldn't be seen, she squinted through the lace curtains. Outside, there were two men dressed in those white military uniforms.
Of all the goddamn people that could have shown up on the doorstep…!
Sensing that it would be no use hiding from them, Ruth headed for the door and pulled it open. One of the men had hair and a mustache of dark blond; the other man was younger, wearing a pair of tinted glasses despite the fact that the sun had only barely come up. He looked to be ten years older than Ruth, give or take a few.
The older of the two men eyed Ruth's sisters behind her, before he said, "You are Emmerich Yuriya's daughters, I presume?"
Swallowing, Ruth answered, "Yes."
He nodded. "We came to speak with your father, but I see the… situation has changed," he said, briefly glancing at the two stones in the yard that marked mama and daddy's grave. "I am Robert Accutrone, one of His Majesty's Sternritter."
"His… Majesty…?" Ruth repeated.
The younger man's mouth twitched with a smirk, amused by Ruth's ignorance.
"Our lord, the king of the Quincies," Robert answered.
Ruth chewed on her lower lip. They had a king? Just how much were mama and daddy keeping from her?
"What do you want from us?" Ruth asked, standing up a little straighter even if it felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
"We are here to offer you a new home, a new life with the Wandenreich, serving under His Majesty," Robert explained.
The Wandenreich… that which daddy gave up everything to get away from, Ruth assumed. His home, his family… his entire life from before he met mama, he sacrificed it all to escape them. Whoever they were, she knew he would not want his daughters to join them.
And yet… what choice did they have? The six of them could only survive on their own but for so long, and if the wrong people found out there were a bunch of seemingly defenseless girls alone on the mountain…?
Ruth looked over her shoulder. Her sisters had gathered around, with even Heidi and Abigail finally having crawled out of their bed.
"Okay," Ruth said abruptly, not even bothering to talk it over with her sisters. "We'll go with you."
Robert's eyes shone with triumph behind his glasses. "A wise choice," he said. "You have twenty minutes to gather whatever belongings you can't live without."
Ruth stared at the two Quincy men a moment longer, before shutting the door and turning around. Her younger sisters were all gazing up at her, confusion written all over each and every one of their faces.
"Y'all heard the man," Ruth said, stepping past her sisters to start packing.
Twenty minutes and three bags of clothing and miscellany of sentimental value later, the Yuriya sisters trailed out of the front door one by one.
"We're ready," Ruth said, carrying Maechen in her arms.
Robert looked them over briefly. He pressed his hand to his ear, then said, "Ready for extraction."
In the blink of an eye, Ruth's vision was engulfed in darkness. She thought she had up and died, until she realized that Maechen was still in her arms. Her youngest sister whimpered, her body tensing up, and Ruth held her a little closer.
As quickly as the darkness arrived, it dissipated, Ruth's vision clearing. She, the rest of her sisters, and the two men were standing in front of a mighty fortress carved from white stone. The difference in temperature was harsh and immediate, going from a warm August morning to as cold as the dead of winter; there was ice clinging to the fortress, and a thick layer of frost on the ground.
For the first time since they found their parents' lifeless bodies, Maechen spoke. "Wow…" she whispered, staring up at the fortress with eyes full of wonder.
Tears pricked at the corners of Ruth's eyes. In that moment, it didn't matter what mama and daddy might have thought of the Wandenreich — not when they brought the first little spark of joy back to her baby sister's eyes.
--
"Fight!"
Maechen and her opponent, a soldier by the name of Conrad, sprung into action, each summoning their own Heilig Bogan. Conrad's traditional bow, sleek in its design, contrasted sharply against Maechen's unreasonably large firearm.
In the years and decades after relocating to Silbern and coming under the great white wing of the Wandenreich, the Yuriya sisters all became personal maids serving under the Sternritter.
All of them, that is, except for Maechen.
Conrad fired off three arrows at once, the trio spreading out in an arc pattern as they sped toward Maechen. She ducked to dodge them, aided by her short stature, then took aim at Conrad. He did his best to avoid the rapid projectiles, but Maechen managed to clip him in the upper arm.
Ruth, Gertrude, Abigail, Vera, Heidi… sure, they could defend themselves if push came to shove, but soldiers, they were not. They had been raised as average people first and foremost, and as Quincies second — before everything changed, they expected to become housewives and lead average lives, whereas Maechen…
With a growl of frustration, Conrad loosed an arrow that knocked Maechen off balance. As she attempted to right herself, Conrad got in close with a Blitz Schritt, taking aim at her midsection.
…Maechen was of such a tender, impressionable age when the sisters came to Silbern, being taught that every Quincy should use their powers to their fullest extent.
Before Conrad could fire, Maechen pounded the butt of her gun into his ribcage once, twice, the bruising force knocking him to the floor.
Greater than even the Wandenreich's influence was that hot summer day when Maechen was only a little thing, tears running down her cheeks while she and Ruth hid from that bastard of a Hollow — the Hollow that would kill their parents and destroy the peaceful life they knew. Maechen seldom had nightmares about the event anymore, but it served to fuel her. She would become a living, breathing weapon, if it meant that never had to happen to anyone ever again.
"Match!" the soldier acting as ref shouted.
As Conrad got back to his feet, Maechen dismissed her weapon, looking out at the crowd that had gathered to watch them spar. It was composed of Jagdarmee soldiers, with Captain Opie at the front.
"That's not fair!" Conrad said, turning on the ref. "Did you see the way she hit me like that? Isn't that a foul?!"
Before the ref could respond, Quilge spoke up, "War isn't fair, and I don't expect any of you to be, either." He looked from Conrad to the other soldiers in the room. "I expect a unit of resolute soldiers, a unit of soldiers who do not hesitate."
Turning his gaze to Maechen, he flashed her a pleased smirk that had her over the moon for the rest of the day.
Years ago, Quilge Opie began recruiting for what was called the Jagdarmee, a unit made to hunt down and exterminate the strongest of Hollows. Maechen was eager to prove herself, yes, but she also found herself smitten with the Jagdarmee's captain from the moment she laid eyes on him.
He was captivating in his strength, in his sternness. His body language, the mere way he walked, exuded a smug confidence that was more attractive than it probably should have been. He ordered his soldiers as naturally as he breathed, a born commander. His combat skill was unquestionable — his Heilig Bogan took the form not of a bow, but of a sword, a rarity among Quincy, yet he wielded it with deadly proficiency. And to say nothing of his intense, dark eyes, eyes that turned Maechen's knees to jelly!
Quilge Opie was like a lightning strike, setting Maechen's heart ablaze.
After she told her sisters that she intended to join the Jagdarmee, and of just what that entailed, Ruth pulled her aside. "Find the Hollow that killed mama and daddy," she said, her voice lowered. "Destroy it."
Maechen would make them proud — her sisters, and her captain.