The sun here burned brighter, or maybe that was just in her imagination.

Looking off into the distance, Yang saw that the road stretched on for miles, with no visible end. Eventually, it was swallowed up in the dense forest beyond the plains. Seeing no point in delaying, she followed the townspeople’s instructions and walked along the dirt path into the unknown.

She had to admit, the heavily forested area was very peaceful; silent, save for the occasional chirps of birds hidden in the trees. Grunting, she hunched forward to reduce the strain of her pack on her muscles. The struggle wasn’t quite so bad now that she’d used her long flight on the airship from Mistral as down time to rest her tired legs.

There was not a single human, animal, or Grimm in sight for the first few minutes of her walk. Eventually, a squirrel scurried past, diving into a nearby bush. Apart from that, Yang was all alone on her quiet trek. Better for her, too, she reasoned, since she wasn’t quite sure what her plan was, or what she’d do once she made it to her destination.

Crap, she said to herself, glaring at the ground like it had wronged her. I didn’t think that far ahead.

In hindsight, she realized that it probably would have been best to use her time on the airship to form a more solid plan. Although, to be fair, Yang was so frightened by every minor shake or hum during the flight that she couldn’t focus. After all, she’d never flown before. So instead, she closed her eyes and tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the conversations of the other passengers.

They talked about simple things she’d never taken time to consider. What activities they had planned for the weekend, new stores opening in Vale, whispers of the presence of a group called the White Fang in Beacon, which kingdom they’d cheer for in the next Vytal Festival tournament, which of the four Huntsman academies their children wanted to attend, and so on. Yang couldn’t relate to, or find much of a reason to care about, any of this, yet they seemed deeply interested in these unremarkable topics. Would Ruby and Taiyang be that way? What sorts of things were they interested in? How much did they know about the Branwen Tribe’s lifestyle?

Her chest tightened, but she pressed on. Not much further and she’d be there. A woman back in town where she stopped to get some food had said that once Yang saw the large rock on the side of the road, she’d only need to follow the path to the right. Then she would reach the cabin where one of Patch’s local Huntsmen and his daughter lived.

Yang took a few more deliberately slow steps along the curving dirt path, looking up to see the dense canopy of trees thin and give way to a large clearing. Smaller trees dotted the grassy land surrounding a large cabin. She made her way toward the house, holding her breath and looking worriedly around to ensure she was alone. A sound caught her attention as she neared the house, and she threw herself behind one of the trees for cover. Feet crunched against twigs, sending a shiver through Yang’s body.

The noise had come from the direction of the cabin.

Yang craned her neck and peeked around the corner to see a girl shorter than herself shuffling along, toting a small handaxe. It gleamed in the sunlight, bouncing up and down with the movements of her delicate frame.

She was so...tiny. Yang found it hard to believe that the girl before her was capable of wielding that axe with any level of proficiency. Yet she watched in amazement as the girl held the axe out at an angle and swung it forward with a soft cry, digging a deep groove into one of the trees. She continued in solitude, chopping away at the wooden trunk until an audible creaking signaled that the tree was about to fall. When a few more repetitive chops didn’t do the trick, the girl groaned, tossed her axe to the ground, and shuffled around in her dress’s pockets for something. Her blood-red cape caught a draft of wind and floated upward, throwing her off balance. She grumbled something in frustration and found her feet, whipping out an oblong, metal contraption of some kind. Holding it out in front of her, she pressed a trigger on its side, and with a metallic whir, it expanded into a large scythe right before Yang’s eyes.

A gasp escaped Yang before she could stop herself. She flattened her body against the tree, catching the beginning of the girl’s slight head movement as she turned to look in the direction of the noise, narrowly missing her. Yang prayed that the girl would ignore her. Sweat trickled down the sides of her face and pooled on her forehead, torturing her with itches that she didn’t dare try to scratch.

“Hello?” the girl said in a very high-pitched, but firm voice. Her voice carried, piercing Yang’s ears and striking more fear in her than even the bloodthirsty growl of a Beringel. Suffocating silence blanketed the area. “Thought I heard something.”

Grimacing, Yang chanced another glance around the corner. The girl was taking a stance, staring intensely at the tree. She gave a battle cry and sliced clean through it. The tree landed with a thud. Faint tremors from the fallen log rippled through Yang, even from so far off, adding to her anxiety. The girl continued to hack at the wood, chopping it into more manageable pieces. Then she disappeared again and returned with a ruddy-colored wagon. Humming to herself, the girl methodically picked up the wood two or three pieces at a time and stacked all of them in the wagon. She turned and rolled the wagon away again, leaving Yang alone with her thoughts.

Her sister. Ruby Rose. The girl was certainly not what Yang expected. She was so meek, cute, and, maybe strangest of all, she seemed happy. Not struggling, sad, or worried about her next meal. Ruby was casually gathering firewood, singing songs, and even seemed to have some experience with using a weapon. Was she a Huntress? Yang didn’t even know the academies trained students that young.

A crow cawed in the distance, and Yang swiveled around, searching the skies for it out of habit.

Damn. Why am I so on edge?

Forcing herself to breathe and calm down, she ran over a million possible scenarios in her head. However, she knew that every minute she wasted was only time spent delaying the inevitable. One of the teachings ingrained in her by her time with the tribe was that one of the worst ways to spend your time was inaction. She wasn’t the inactive type, but for some reason, ever since she found out about Taiyang and Ruby, she hadn’t felt like herself anymore. Worse yet, she wasn’t sure whether the person she was ever really existed. She sighed and emerged from behind the tree, weaving her way through the cluster of trees and stopping in front of the door to the cabin. The curtains on the windows were closed. That was a relief. She didn’t want anyone to see her coming and make this even harder.

A sign in front of the house read “Proceed to back for pickup/dropoff.”

Pickup and dropoff? What was that about? She decided to ignore it for now, and walked up to the door to knock. Yang wrapped once on the door, softly, not yet fully committed to the act. The door hinge creaked and it swung open, catching her by surprise. Inside, she saw Ruby standing at the center of an open living room, beside a couch as green as the surrounding forest’s treetops. Ruby jumped and turned around, locking eyes with Yang before the ex-princess had a chance to regret her choice.

“Oh, hi there!” her sister said, laughing nervously and scratching the back of her head. “I didn’t realize I left the door unlocked. Are you here for repairs?”

Yang blinked, saying nothing. Her bag’s strap slackened, sliding down her shoulder. Ruby’s eyes followed the motion, and she gasped.

“Oh! You’re here to drop off parts, aren’t you?” She curtsied, nervously stumbling over herself as she moved toward the door. “Dad! Customer!” Hurrying past a speechless Yang, Ruby said, “Let me run and get the inventory list.” Her voice trailed off. “Where did I leave that pesky thing?”

Yang thought she remembered seeing a shed around the back. That must’ve been where Ruby was going. A clattering and a thud from another room in the house sent Yang rigid. Everything in her begged her to move, to run, to get as far away from this house as possible - but she couldn’t. This was the whole reason why she’d traveled this far. If she chickened out now, then what was the point of everything up until now? She planted her feet and gritted her teeth. Gentle footsteps descended a flight of stairs and approached the living room.

A tall, lean-muscled blond man strode into the room. He flexed an arm, revealing a prominent black tattoo. His cargo shorts and vest provided a strong contrast to the spaulder and arm brace he wore. It was like he was halfway through putting on armor, and just stopped for some reason. Even so, there was no doubt about it. This was Yang’s father, Taiyang Xiao Long of the infamous Team STRQ.

He took a breath. “Whew!” he said. “Sorry about that. I was putting away some boxes and-”

His eyes fell on her. Yang drank in every detail of his semi-rugged facial features, and the softness of his wordless stare. In his face, she saw bits of her own. His cheekbones were higher and his chin appeared more defined. He even had that little dimple under his bottom lip that the tribe told her appeared whenever she was anxious. She and her father may not have looked terribly similar, but she'd definitely inherited his nose, his hair, and perhaps even his ears. Otherwise, she was more or less a clone of her mother. Or so most of the tribe told her.

Taiyang opened his mouth to speak, then paused. He squinted, looking her over with painstaking slowness. She stayed still, terrified, but at the same time excited. Should she speak? Her knees buckled, and she feared she might fall and embarrass herself.

Then he said a single word, shaking Yang to her core. While she’d heard it countless times, somehow it sounded much more meaningful than at any other time in her life when it was coming from his lips.

“Yang?”