Outmatched: The White Fang's Reaction
In a hidden White Fang encampment deep within the forests bordering Mistral territory, Adam Taurus slammed his fist against the tactical table, sending map markers scattering across the floor. His subordinates flinched, their animal features tensing in response to their leader's volatile reaction.
"Too lenient!" Adam snarled, his masked face turned toward the communication device that had just finished relaying news of Jacques Schnee's sentencing. "Asset seizure and imprisonment? After generations of Faunus suffering in his mines? After the systematic oppression of our people?"
The bull-horned leader paced the length of the command tent, his hand reflexively gripping Wilt's handle as though the blade could somehow cut through his frustration. His lieutenant, a wolf Faunus with graying temples, cautiously approached.
"The elves have their own justice system, Adam. Perhaps—"
"Their justice is weak," Adam cut him off sharply. "Schnee should have faced execution for his crimes. Public and decisive. A message that exploitation has consequences."
The gathered White Fang members exchanged uneasy glances. The recent revelations from the trial had created complex ripples through their organization. The exposure of how Jacques had deliberately funded initiatives to increase human-Faunus tensions had forced many to reconsider whether their most radical actions had unwittingly served the very power structures they sought to dismantle.
"The economic impact will be significant," offered Ilia, stepping from the shadows where she had been listening. Her skin had taken on a thoughtful blue tinge. "The SDC assets being redirected to reconstruction efforts will benefit Faunus communities in Vale—in Albanahr," she corrected herself, using the restored name.
Adam whirled toward her. "You sound like Blake," he accused, the name of his former partner still triggering visible tension in his posture. "Next you'll suggest we should work with these elves."
"Maybe we should," Ilia challenged, her spots flashing yellow briefly before returning to blue. "Their testimony exposed truths about human oppression that we've been fighting to reveal for decades. They've done more damage to the Schnee empire in weeks than we managed in years."
This sparked murmurs throughout the tent. It was an uncomfortable truth—the elven reemergence and subsequent victory had accomplished political and social changes the White Fang had only dreamed of achieving through violence.
Adam sensed the shift in mood and moved to reassert control. "The elves fight for themselves, not for us. They speak of unity and shared history, but where were they during our suffering? Hidden away, protecting themselves while Faunus died in dust mines and human slums."
His words struck a chord with many present, their features hardening as remembered injustices resurfaced. Adam pressed his advantage, moving to the center of the gathering.
"Jacques Schnee's punishment should be just the beginning. Real justice would mean the dismantling of all human power structures that enabled his crimes. If the elves won't deliver that justice, then we must."
What Adam Taurus couldn't know was that at that very moment, his name was being discussed in the strategic chambers of the Elven Vanguard headquarters in Albanahr.
Valvaderhn Arkham stood before a tactical display showing known White Fang encampments, with Adam's most recent location highlighted in pulsing red.
"Adam Taurus represents a particular challenge," the Crimson Knight explained to the assembled officers. "His extremism was precisely the kind of response Jacques Schnee and his allies hoped to provoke—violence that could justify further oppression and distract from the systematic exploitation of Faunus communities."
Lynnia Arkham, studying the intelligence reports with sharp ranger's eyes, nodded in agreement. "He's been extensively radicalized. His violence against SDC facilities was understandable given their abuses, but he's since expanded to civilian targets. He's crossed lines that cannot be uncrossed."
"And yet," Xander Arkham interjected thoughtfully, "he remains symbolically important to significant factions within the White Fang. A direct move against him without context could be misinterpreted as an attack on legitimate Faunus grievances."
Saibyrh, the youngest Arkham sibling, had been silent throughout the discussion, but now she spoke with quiet certainty. "He must be brought before the High King and Queen. Not killed or martyred. Confronted with the truth, as Jacques was."
Valvaderhn turned to his youngest sister. "You believe he can be reached? His hatred runs deeper than Schnee's greed."
"I believe in our justice," Saibyrh replied simply. "Whether he can be reached is secondary to the importance of trying—and of demonstrating to all Faunus that even their most extreme defender receives fair treatment under elven law."
After further deliberation, the order was given: Adam Taurus was to be captured alive and brought to Albanahr to face judgment for his role in perpetuating the cycle of violence that had ultimately served the interests of those like Jacques Schnee who profited from division between humans and Faunus.
Elite teams of elven scouts were dispatched to track White Fang movements, with explicit instructions to avoid harming rank-and-file members where possible. The priority was Adam himself, though certain key lieutenants were also named in secondary capture orders.
Unaware of the net closing around him, Adam continued planning his next move. His determination to reject the elven approach to justice stemmed partly from ideological conviction but increasingly from fear—fear that the changing political landscape might render his particular brand of violent resistance obsolete.
"The masses are being pacified with promises of gradual change," he told his inner circle later that night. "They celebrate Schnee's downfall but fail to see that the system that enabled him remains largely intact. Different masters, same chains."
What Adam couldn't acknowledge, even to himself, was how the trial's revelations had shaken his own certainties. Learning that the human-Faunus conflict had been deliberately stoked by those in power raised uncomfortable questions about whether his violent resistance had unwittingly served their larger agenda of distraction and division.
As preparations for their next operation—a planned raid on what had been an SDC facility now under joint elven-human administration—continued, Adam privately struggled with growing doubts camouflaged as righteous fury.
He stood alone on the perimeter of the encampment, staring into the darkness of the surrounding forest, unaware that elven scouts had already located his position and were methodically establishing containment perimeters beyond his sentries' detection range.
"They think imprisonment is justice for Schnee," he muttered to himself, fingers tracing the edge of his grimm mask. "They don't understand that some crimes can only be answered with blood."
The irony—that he himself had been marked for capture rather than execution despite his violent history—remained unknown to him. As did the fact that the elven forces preparing to apprehend him had been given explicit orders to bring him before the same rulers whose judgment of Jacques Schnee he had dismissed as too lenient.
Within days, Adam Taurus would find himself facing not the martyrdom he might have secretly desired, but something far more challenging—the opportunity to defend his actions before rulers who understood the full historical context of the Faunus struggle yet remained unwavering in their commitment to breaking cycles of vengeance rather than perpetuating them.
Whether he could face such justice with the same rigid certainty he now proclaimed remained to be seen. But the elves, with their perspective spanning centuries rather than decades, were prepared to offer even someone as radicalized as Adam the chance for understanding that they had extended to Jacques Schnee—not out of naive optimism, but from the hard-won wisdom that sustainable peace required even the most difficult confrontations with truth.
Outmatched: An Unexpected Messenger
The White Fang encampment had settled into its nighttime routine – sentries posted at carefully calculated intervals, small fires kept low to minimize visibility, and members resting in shifts. Adam Taurus had just finished reviewing plans for their upcoming raid when the perimeter alarm – a system of subtle vibrations transmitted through wires – signaled an unexpected approach from the eastern sector.
"Intruder," his lieutenant reported tensely. "Single individual, making no attempt at concealment."
Adam's hand moved to Wilt's hilt, his posture shifting to combat readiness. "Human? Faunus?"
"Neither," came the response, confusion evident in the lieutenant's voice. "It's... an elf."
This was unprecedented. The White Fang's remote locations were specifically chosen to avoid detection by any authorities. For an elven messenger to locate them so precisely suggested intelligence capabilities far beyond what Adam had anticipated.
"Defensive positions," Adam ordered, his voice cold with control. "But hold fire. I want to see this... emissary."
The camp mobilized with practiced efficiency, fighters taking covered positions with weapons ready but not yet aimed. Adam stepped into the clearing at the camp's edge, his masked face revealing nothing of his surprise or concern.
From the shadows of the forest emerged a slender figure whose movement carried the distinctive fluid grace characteristic of elven kind. Unlike the armored warriors Adam had seen in broadcasts of the trial, this elf wore simpler attire – practical traveling clothes in deep forest hues, with only subtle insignia indicating his official status. His dark skin held an almost imperceptible luminescence in the moonlight, and his eyes reflected light like a nocturnal predator's.
"Adam Taurus," the elf stated, not a question but a confirmation. His voice carried a musical quality even in its solemnity. "I am Reyan, messenger of the High Court of Albanahr."
Adam maintained his defensive stance, saying nothing, letting the tension build. Around the clearing, White Fang members watched with weapons at ready.
Reyan seemed entirely unconcerned by the hostile reception. With deliberate movements, he reached into a courier pouch at his side and produced a sealed document bearing the royal emblem seen during the trial broadcasts.
"I bring word directly from High King Berethon and High Queen Hyatan," Reyan announced, his voice carrying clearly to all listening ears. "They extend an invitation to discuss matters of mutual concern regarding the future relationship between elven authorities and Faunus liberation movements."
Murmurs rippled through the watching White Fang members. Adam remained motionless, his expression hidden behind his mask.
"An invitation," Adam finally responded, skepticism evident in his tone. "To surrender, no doubt."
Reyan's expression showed neither offense nor impatience. "To dialogue," he corrected. "The elven crown recognizes the legitimacy of many Faunus grievances while disagreeing with certain tactical approaches taken by your organization."
Adam's laugh was sharp and dismissive. "They've sent you to lecture me on tactics? After centuries of hiding while my people suffered?"
"They've sent me," Reyan replied with undisturbed calm, "to offer you what was offered to Jacques Schnee – the opportunity to speak your truth before those with the power to effect genuine change."
This comparison visibly angered Adam, his posture stiffening. "You dare compare me to Schnee? He was the oppressor! We are fighting for liberation!"
"And yet," Reyan observed quietly, "both of your actions have contributed to cycles of violence that ultimately served those who profit from division. The difference is that your intentions began from a place of justice, which is why this invitation is extended with respect rather than as a consequence of capture."
The messenger took a step forward, holding out the sealed document. "The High King and Queen believe your perspective valuable, even where they may disagree with your methods. They offer safe passage to Albanahr, diplomatic immunity during discussions, and your choice of Faunus witnesses to accompany you."
Adam made no move to take the offered document. "And if I refuse this... generous invitation?"
Reyan's expression remained composed, but his voice took on a note of formal warning: "I am instructed to inform you that rejection may result in you being branded as a threat to the elven crown and subject to violent apprehension against your will." He paused, then added with significant emphasis, "This is not a threat but a courtesy – informing you of consequences so you may choose with full understanding."
The clearing fell silent as the implications settled over the assembled White Fang members. Adam's leadership had always been predicated on strength and decisive action. This situation offered neither clear victory through confrontation nor honorable retreat.
"How did you find us?" Adam demanded, changing tack. "This location is known only to loyal members."
"The elven scouting networks have capabilities beyond what you have encountered previously," Reyan replied simply. "Had capture been the objective, this conversation would not be occurring."
One of Adam's lieutenants, a fox Faunus with multiple tails, stepped forward hesitantly. "Adam... perhaps we should consider this. An audience with their leaders could provide intelligence, if nothing else."
Adam remained silent, wrestling with the implications. Accepting could be perceived as weakness, yet rejecting meant facing forces whose capabilities clearly exceeded his intelligence estimates. More troublingly, rejection would mean abandoning an opportunity to directly confront those now positioned to influence Faunus conditions throughout the kingdoms.
"The invitation remains open for three days," Reyan continued, placing the sealed document on a fallen log between them. "If you wish to accept, burn this seal after sunset. Guides will find you."
The messenger then did something unexpected – he turned his back to Adam and began walking unhurriedly back into the forest, displaying either supreme confidence or foolish trust.
"We could take him," Adam's lieutenant whispered urgently. "Extract information about their operations, their weaknesses."
Adam considered this for a moment, his hand tightening on Wilt's hilt. But something in the messenger's utterly fearless departure gave him pause. There was no tension in Reyan's movements, no hint of concern – as though the possibility of attack had been considered and dismissed as inconsequential.
"No," Adam decided, his intuition recognizing a trap, though its nature remained unclear. "Let him go."
As Reyan disappeared into the darkness, Adam approached the fallen log and picked up the sealed document. The royal emblem seemed to catch the moonlight with unnatural clarity, the elven script around its edges shifting subtly as though alive.
"What will you do?" Ilia asked, her skin shifting to a concerned purple as she approached.
Adam stared at the seal, feeling the weight of the decision before him. The White Fang followed his lead, but leadership now required navigating political complexities far beyond the direct action that had defined their movement.
"They think they can summon me like a subordinate," he said bitterly. "They think because they brought down Schnee, I should kneel in gratitude."
"Or," Ilia suggested carefully, "they recognize you as a legitimate representative of Faunus interests, worthy of direct diplomatic engagement."
Adam looked up sharply, suspicion clear in his posture. "You think I should go? Walk willingly into what could be an elaborate trap?"
"I think," Ilia responded with rare boldness, "that the world is changing around us. The elves have accomplished more for Faunus rights in weeks than we've achieved through years of violence. Understanding their intentions seems... tactically sound."
Other members had gathered now, watching their leader wrestle with the decision. The invitation represented both opportunity and risk – a chance to advocate directly for Faunus interests at the highest level, but also the possibility of neutralizing the White Fang's most charismatic leader.
Adam turned the sealed document over in his hands, the choice before him symbolizing a larger question for the White Fang itself: adapt to the new political reality or double down on the tactics that had defined their resistance but achieved limited results?
As the night deepened around the encampment, Adam Taurus weighed options that would determine not just his fate but potentially the future direction of the Faunus liberation movement in a world transformed by the elven reemergence.
Outmatched: An Unexpected Messenger (continued)
The flames of the White Fang's campfire cast flickering shadows across Adam's mask as he contemplated the sealed document. His fingers traced the elven script that seemed to pulse with faint luminescence in the darkness. The weight of leadership had never felt heavier on his shoulders.
"Prepare a small contingent," he finally announced, his voice cutting through the tense silence. "We'll accept this... invitation."
Murmurs rippled through the assembled members – some of approval, others of concern. Ilia's skin shifted to a relieved blue before returning to her natural tone.
"Are you certain?" his lieutenant asked, doubt evident in his voice. "This could be an elaborate trap to decapitate our leadership."
Adam squared his shoulders, his decision made. "If the elves wanted us dead, they wouldn't have sent a lone messenger who turned his back on us. They've demonstrated their capabilities – both in finding us and in bringing down Schnee." He held up the sealed document. "Besides, we can ill afford to have the dark elves as our enemies. Not when they've shown more capacity to effect change than our years of direct action."
"And if it is a trap?" someone called from the gathered crowd.
Adam's smile was cold and confident. "Then they'll learn why humans and their pet authorities have feared the White Fang for so long." He slipped the document into his coat. "More importantly, we need to understand these elves. Why they've chosen now to emerge. Why they never came to the Faunus' aid when we were suffering. What they truly want from this world they've suddenly decided to rejoin."
Ilia approached, her expression cautiously hopeful. "Who will you take with you?"
"You," Adam replied immediately. "Your abilities will be invaluable for reconnaissance. Yuma for aerial surveillance. Corsac for his diplomatic experience." He scanned the gathered members, weighing strengths and loyalties. "And Fennec – his semblance could prove useful if we need to make a hasty exit."
The camp mobilized with practiced efficiency, preparing for their leader's departure while establishing contingency protocols. Adam moved to his tent, gathering only essential items – including a secondary communication device unknown to most members. Whatever happened in Albanahr, the White Fang would not be left directionless.
As dusk approached on the following day, Adam stood alone at the edge of the clearing, the sealed document in his hand. The emblem caught the dying sunlight, seeming almost to drink it in. With deliberate movements, he struck a match and touched it to the seal.
The document didn't merely burn – it dissolved into motes of light that spiraled upward before dispersing into the evening air like luminescent pollen. Adam watched impassively, though his hand instinctively moved toward Wilt's hilt when the undergrowth rustled nearby.
From the deepening shadows emerged two elven figures, their movements so fluid they seemed to flow rather than walk. Unlike Reyan's understated appearance, these guides wore armor of a design Adam had never seen – segments that appeared metallic yet moved with the flexibility of fabric, adorned with symbols that seemed to absorb rather than reflect the fading light.
"Adam Taurus," the taller of the two acknowledged with a formal inclination of her head. "I am Sereviel, captain of the Crown's Shadowguard. This is Talanthir, my second. We are instructed to escort you and your chosen companions to Albanahr."
Adam noted that neither carried visible weapons, yet their confident bearing suggested this absence posed no disadvantage. "My people will be joining shortly," he responded, deliberately casual. "I trust the Crown's invitation extends its protection to all of us?"
"The High King and Queen's word binds all elven kind," Sereviel confirmed. "Your safety is guaranteed until you depart our lands, regardless of the outcome of discussions."
When Ilia and the others joined them, Adam noticed the subtly evaluating gazes of the elven guides – not hostile, but meticulously observant, categorizing capabilities and threats with professional detachment.
"The journey will take three days," Talanthir informed them, speaking for the first time. His voice carried an unexpected depth for his slender frame. "We will travel primarily under cover of darkness, when our protective measures are most effective."
"Protective measures?" Corsac inquired politely, his fox ears twitching with interest.
Instead of answering directly, Sereviel made a fluid gesture with her hand. The air around the group seemed to thicken momentarily before settling into what Adam perceived as a subtle distortion of light – as though they stood behind heat waves rising from sun-baked asphalt.
"We will not be seen unless we wish it," she explained simply. "But we must move now – the veil is best established at twilight."
As they departed the White Fang encampment, Adam felt a peculiar sensation – not quite discomfort, but an awareness of crossing a threshold beyond which familiar strategies and power dynamics might prove inadequate. For the first time in years, he was moving into territory where neither his reputation nor his strength would necessarily command respect or fear.
The forest darkened around them as they walked in silence, the elven guides navigating with unerring precision despite the absence of any visible path. Occasionally, Adam caught glimpses of movement at the periphery of his vision – additional escorts, he presumed, maintaining distance while ensuring their security.
"May I ask a question?" Ilia ventured after they had been traveling for nearly an hour. When Sereviel nodded permission, she continued: "Why has the elven kingdom remained hidden for so long? Especially during periods when the Faunus faced their worst persecution?"
The question hung in the air, giving voice to the resentment that had been building in Adam's thoughts. Talanthir and Sereviel exchanged a glance that contained volumes of unspoken communication.
"That," Sereviel finally responded, "is precisely the question the High King and Queen expect Adam Taurus to ask." She turned slightly, her eyes reflecting moonlight like a nocturnal predator's. "And it is why they insisted on extending this invitation personally, rather than through human diplomatic channels."
"So they recognize their abandonment of the Faunus?" Adam pressed, unable to keep the edge from his voice.
"They recognize," Talanthir replied with careful neutrality, "that your perspective differs significantly from theirs regarding the history of elven engagement with the world. They believe this difference merits direct conversation rather than assumptions."
Adam's laugh was sharp and humorless. "Diplomatic way of saying they have excuses prepared."
"Perhaps," Sereviel conceded without defensiveness. "Or perhaps explanations that may alter your understanding of both history and current opportunities." She paused, then added: "The White Fang believes itself to be fighting against insurmountable odds for a just cause. The elven crown believes there may be paths to your objectives that do not require continuous bloodshed."
"Easy to preach peace when you've never had a boot on your neck," Adam retorted.
This time, it was Talanthir who laughed – a sound entirely lacking in humor. "You assume much, Adam Taurus, about what our people have or haven't endured." His voice had lost its diplomatic smoothness, revealing something ancient and hard beneath. "Before passing judgment on choices made across centuries, perhaps wait to hear the full accounting."
The conversation lapsed into tense silence as they continued their journey through the darkened forest. Adam found himself increasingly aware that he was walking into a situation where his usual tactical advantages – intimidation, superior combat information, and the element of surprise – were completely absent.
Yet beneath his concern burned curiosity and a grudging recognition of opportunity. The elves had demonstrated power beyond what the White Fang had calculated in their strategic assessments. Understanding that power – its source, its limitations, and its potential alignment with Faunus interests – could reshape the movement's approach to liberation.
As the first hints of dawn lightened the eastern sky, Sereviel led them to a small clearing where a modest camp had been established with remarkable efficiency – tents already positioned, a small fire burning without smoke, and additional elven guards stationed at the perimeter.
"We will rest here during daylight," she announced. "Tomorrow night, we cross the threshold into elven territories. I suggest you prepare yourselves – the first glimpse of Albanahr has been known to overwhelm even the most composed visitors."
Adam exchanged glances with his companions, reading similar mixtures of wariness and anticipation in their expressions. Whatever awaited them in the heart of the elven kingdom, it represented a critical juncture for the White Fang – and potentially for all Faunus.
As he settled into the provided tent, Adam found himself considering Ilia's earlier words with grudging appreciation. Perhaps the world was indeed changing around them, and adaptation, rather than rigid adherence to established tactics, would determine their movement's survival.
But adaptation did not mean capitulation. Whatever game the elven royalty was playing, Adam intended to ensure the White Fang emerged as players, not as pawns. He closed his eyes, not to sleep but to plan – assembling questions, anticipating responses, and formulating demands.
The High King and Queen had invited the wolf to their door. They would soon discover that his teeth remained sharp, regardless of the setting.
Outmatched: An Unexpected Messenger (continued)
The final night of their journey brought them to the outskirts of what had once been known as the Kingdom of Vale. Adam had last seen the city months ago during a White Fang operation—a memory that seemed to belong to a different world entirely. The transformation before him now rendered him momentarily speechless.
"Welcome to Albanahr Republic," Sereviel announced with understated pride as they crested the final ridge overlooking the valley.
The city that had once been Vale now glimmered with lights unlike any Adam had seen before—neither the harsh electric glare of human settlements nor the warm flicker of flame, but something between the two, with cool blue and silver luminescence threading through the urban landscape like veins of living light. Ancient trees that had not existed weeks ago now towered over certain districts, their massive canopies aglow with what appeared to be natural bioluminescence.
"How..." Ilia whispered beside him, her skin shifting involuntarily to a palette of astonished blues and whites.
"Restoration, not creation," Talanthir explained, a hint of satisfaction in his usually measured voice. "What you see was always here, merely dormant beneath the human constructions. The elven presence has simply... reawakened certain aspects of the land."
Adam's tactical mind immediately registered the implications. "You've fundamentally altered city infrastructure in mere weeks."
"The Republic of Albanahr honors the functional aspects of what Vale established," Sereviel clarified, "while restoring harmony with elements long suppressed. The transition continues, but with minimal disruption to essential services."
As they descended toward the city, Adam observed the integration more clearly—human architecture now interwoven with living materials, streets redesigned to accommodate both modern vehicles and what appeared to be alternative transportation systems utilizing the massive root structures of the newly emerged trees.
More notable to Adam, however, was the visible presence of Faunus throughout the city's outer districts. Not huddled in marginalized communities as he'd seen in Vale before, but moving freely, many engaged in what appeared to be collaborative work alongside elven craftspeople.
"Your people have found the transition beneficial," Talanthir commented, following Adam's gaze. "Many Faunus have natural affinities that align with elven restorative work."
Adam's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "Convenient labor, you mean."
"Equal partnership," Sereviel corrected without defensiveness. "The High Court recognizes certain... historical parallels that make Faunus perspectives particularly valuable in this restoration."
Before Adam could press further, they were approached by a delegation at the city's eastern gate—an ornate archway that now appeared to be partially grown rather than fully constructed, living wood interwoven with stone in patterns that somehow managed to look both ancient and newly formed.
The delegation consisted primarily of elves in formal attire more elaborate than their guides had worn, but Adam immediately noted the presence of two Faunus among them—a ram-horned woman and a man with jaguar features, both dressed in a style that blended elven aesthetics with traditional Faunus design elements.
"The High Court welcomes Adam Taurus and his companions to Albanahr," announced the apparent leader of the delegation, an older elf whose silver-streaked hair was elaborately braided with what appeared to be living vines. "I am Lord Celenor, Minister of Integration. These representatives," he gestured to the Faunus delegates, "serve on our Joint Council for Community Development."
The ram-horned woman stepped forward, her gaze meeting Adam's with neither fear nor hostility—something he rarely encountered when his identity was known. "Marron Umber, formerly of Menagerie," she introduced herself. "Now serving as East District Representative. We've been anticipating your arrival with great interest, Mr. Taurus."
Adam measured his response carefully, aware of his companions' scrutiny. "I wasn't aware the White Fang's interests were being represented in elven governance."
The jaguar Faunus smiled slightly. "They weren't, until now. Which is precisely why your presence here matters. The High Court has been particularly insistent that all Faunus perspectives be heard—including those who have chosen more... direct approaches to liberation."
"You'll have opportunity to address the High Court directly tomorrow," Lord Celenor interjected smoothly. "For tonight, accommodations have been prepared where you and your companions can rest and prepare. The journey through the threshold can be disorienting for first-time visitors."
Adam exchanged glances with his companions. Ilia's expression remained carefully neutral, but he could read her curiosity. Corsac and Fennec maintained diplomatic smiles that revealed nothing, while Yuma's posture suggested growing discomfort with the city's unfamiliar energy.
"Very well," Adam agreed, seeing little tactical advantage in refusing the offered hospitality. "Lead on."
Their accommodations proved to be in what Adam recognized as Vale's former diplomatic quarter, though transformed like everything else. The building's exterior maintained its grand facade, but the interior had been redesigned with living elements integrated throughout—walls partially composed of trained vegetation, lighting provided by luminescent plants, and water features that somehow defied conventional plumbing principles.
"The High Court will receive you at midday tomorrow," their escort informed them before departing. "These quarters are yours to use freely. You'll find refreshments prepared, and attendants are available should you require anything."
Once alone, the White Fang contingent immediately conducted a thorough security sweep—checking for surveillance devices, assessing potential escape routes, and establishing defensive positions out of ingrained habit.
"Clean, as far as I can tell," Yuma reported after a careful inspection of the ceiling fixtures. "Though I can't be certain with their technology."
"They hardly need hidden devices when they've made no secret of watching our every move," Adam observed, removing his mask briefly to rub his eyes. The constant vigilance was wearing, but necessary. "Impressions?"
"The Faunus we've seen appear genuinely integrated," Ilia offered first, her tone suggesting she found this as surprising as Adam did. "Not just for show, but in positions of apparent authority."
Corsac nodded thoughtfully. "The elven leadership seems to be cultivating Faunus alliance deliberately. The question remains—to what end?"
"Resources," Adam suggested flatly. "They need numbers to establish their position. Faunus are convenient allies against human dominance."
"Perhaps," Fennec acknowledged. "Yet there appears to be something more... specific in their interest in the White Fang particularly. They could have simply continued cultivating relationships with more moderate Faunus representatives."
Adam moved to the window, looking out over the transformed city. "Tomorrow we'll discover their true intentions. Rest, but remain alert. We're still in unknown territory."
The High Court of Albanahr convened in what had once been Vale's Grand Council Chamber, now transformed beyond recognition. The vaulted ceiling had been opened in places to accommodate massive living trees that formed natural columns, their branches creating a canopy overhead through which filtered light illuminated the circular chamber. The traditional council table had been replaced by a crescent-shaped arrangement of what appeared to be naturally formed wood, polished to a soft gleam.
Adam and his companions were escorted to the chamber by a ceremonial guard whose armor bore striking resemblances to designs Adam had seen in ancient Faunus texts—a detail too specific to be coincidental.
The chamber already contained a dozen elven officials in formal attire, along with several Faunus representatives including Marron Umber and the jaguar Faunus from the previous day. The human presence was notably limited to just three individuals who appeared to be former Vale officials, now seemingly serving in advisory capacities rather than leadership roles.
"Adam Taurus and companions of the White Fang," announced their escort formally, "present as invited guests of the High Crown."
A door at the far end of the chamber opened, and the assembled officials rose in respect. Adam remained seated deliberately, a small act of defiance that did not go unnoticed by the entering figures.
High King Berethon and High Queen Hyatan moved with the fluid grace characteristic of elven kind, but there was a presence about them that exceeded physical attributes—an aura of authority that seemed to both command the space and harmonize with it simultaneously. Their attire was surprisingly understated—elegant but practical, with only subtle indicators of their royal status embedded in the design elements rather than ostentatious displays of wealth.
What caught Adam off-guard, however, was a detail he had not discerned from the limited broadcast footage of the trial—both royals bore physical features strikingly similar to Faunus traits. The High King's ears tapered to subtle points that, while more elongated than typical Faunus characteristics, nevertheless evoked clear parallels to certain Faunus types. The High Queen's eyes reflected light with the same nocturnal adaptation evident in cat and fox Faunus.
Adam's surprise must have registered despite his mask, for the High Queen's lips curved in a knowing smile as the royal couple took their positions at the center of the crescent.
"Adam Taurus," the High King addressed him directly, his voice carrying the musical quality Adam had noted in other elves, yet underlaid with an unmistakable authority. "We appreciate your willingness to accept our invitation. Few leaders would venture into unfamiliar territory based on diplomatic assurances alone."
Adam inclined his head slightly, unwilling to show either deference or disrespect until he better understood the situation. "Curiosity can be a powerful motivator, Your Majesty. As can the opportunity to directly question those who claim interest in Faunus welfare after centuries of absence."
If the bluntness offended the royal couple, they showed no sign. Instead, the High Queen gestured elegantly, and the chamber's configuration shifted—seats rearranging to create a more intimate conversation arrangement rather than formal council positions.
"Direct questions deserve direct answers," she stated, her eyes—now clearly visible to Adam as bearing the same reflective properties as nocturnal Faunus—meeting his gaze without hesitation. "But first, we believe context is necessary. What do you know of the relationship between elven kind and Faunus?"
"Only that there wasn't one," Adam replied coldly. "While my people suffered persecution, enslavement, and genocide, yours remained hidden, offering no assistance."
Several elven councillors shifted uncomfortably, but the High King raised a hand for calm. "Your perception is understandable, given the information available to you. However, it is fundamentally incomplete." He leaned forward slightly. "What if I told you that Faunus and elven kind share more than coincidental physical similarities? That our histories are intertwined in ways deliberately obscured by those who conquered these lands?"
Adam's attention sharpened. "I'd say that's a convenient claim when seeking allies."
"Yet easily verified through evidence both historical and biological," the High Queen countered smoothly. She gestured, and a previously unnoticed section of the chamber wall transformed, revealing what appeared to be an ancient mural preserved within the living structure of the building itself.
The mural depicted what was clearly an ancient battlefield. On one side stood figures recognizable as elves from their features and attire. Fighting alongside them—unmistakably as allies, not subordinates—were figures whose features combined elven attributes with more pronounced animal characteristics than modern Faunus typically displayed.
"This depicts the Last Alliance Battle," the High King explained, "fought approximately seventeen hundred years ago against forces that sought to harness the power of what humans later named 'Dust.' This was before the Great Retreat, before the establishment of the Four Kingdoms as humans now know them."
Adam studied the mural with careful attention, noting details that aligned with fragmentary legends preserved in the oldest Faunus oral traditions—stories dismissed by human historians as mere myth.
"You're suggesting Faunus are related to elves," he stated, not as a question but seeking confirmation of what was becoming increasingly obvious.
"Not merely related," the High Queen corrected gently. "Faunus are, in biological terms, the result of adaptive evolution following the elven-human conflict. When most elven kind retreated from these lands following the conflict depicted here, some remained—those who had formed bonds with humans, those who believed coexistence was possible, and those who simply refused to abandon their ancestral territories."
"Over generations," the High King continued, "those who remained adapted. Their connection to natural energies—what humans have clinically termed 'Aura' and 'Semblance'—manifested differently under the influence of the newly dust-saturated environment. Physical adaptations emerged that enhanced survival in specific regions—night vision, enhanced hearing, protective features."
Adam's mind raced with implications. "You're claiming Faunus are descended from elves who remained behind."
"From elves and their human allies," the High Queen clarified. "The first generations of what would become Faunus were the children of those partnerships, further shaped by environmental adaptation across centuries."
The chamber remained silent as Adam processed this information. It aligned disturbingly well with elements of Faunus heritage that had never been satisfactorily explained by human scientific accounts—the diversity of Faunus traits across populations, the inherited nature of specific features, the natural affinity for Aura manipulation that often exceeded human capabilities.
"If this is true," Adam finally responded, his voice carefully controlled, "it raises more questions than it answers. Why reveal this now? And why did your people abandon their descendants to centuries of persecution?"
The High King's expression grew solemn. "The Great Retreat was not a single decision, but the culmination of a conflict that threatened the very nature of Remnant itself. The power unleashed in the final battles—power humans later learned to mine as 'Dust'—fundamentally altered the world's energy patterns. Most elven kind retreated to regions where those patterns remained stable enough to maintain our civilization."
"Those who remained behind were promised support," the High Queen added, genuine regret evident in her voice. "But the dimensional barriers grew more rigid with each passing generation as dust-energy saturated the human kingdoms. Communication became impossible, then passage itself. By the time these barriers began to naturally thin again—a process that has been accelerating over recent decades—the descendants of those who remained had become a distinct people. Your people."
Adam glanced at his companions, reading similar reactions of shock and guarded reassessment in their expressions. Ilia in particular appeared deeply affected, her skin shifting through patterns of color that reflected intense emotional processing.
"You expect me to believe," Adam challenged, "that the elven kingdom was physically unable to intervene during centuries of Faunus persecution? That seems remarkably convenient."
Instead of taking offense, the High King nodded with surprising agreement. "It does indeed. Were I in your position, I would harbor identical suspicions." He rose from his seat and approached what appeared to be an ordinary wall section, placing his palm against its surface. The material responded to his touch, reshaping itself to reveal a concealed artifact—a large crystalline structure that pulsed with internal light.
"This is a dimensional resonance map," he explained. "It tracks the fluctuations in the barriers between realms over time. These barriers are not merely spatial but vibrational—realms existing at different frequencies of reality." The crystal's internal light shifted, displaying patterns that resembled topographic maps overlaid with wave formations. "The retreat was never intended to be permanent, but the barriers strengthened beyond all historical precedent following the dust saturation."
Adam studied the display with skepticism, but Fennec stepped forward with evident academic interest. As the White Fang's most scholarly member, he had extensively studied dust properties.
"These patterns," Fennec observed, pointing to specific wave formations, "they correlate with known dust reaction cascades. I've documented similar interference patterns in experimental settings."
The High Queen nodded approval. "Your understanding is impressive. It was precisely these energy cascades that fortified the barriers beyond our ability to traverse them. Only in the past century have the patterns begun reverting to traversable frequencies—a process we have been carefully monitoring and, where possible, facilitating."
Adam paced a short distance, processing the implications of what he was hearing. If true, it fundamentally recontextualized Faunus history and identity. More importantly for his immediate concerns, it suggested the elven leadership's interest in Faunus welfare stemmed from something deeper than mere political alliance.
"Even if I accept this account," he finally responded, turning back to face the royal couple, "it doesn't explain your specific interest in the White Fang. There are more... diplomatically palatable Faunus representatives available."
The High King and Queen exchanged a glance that contained volumes of unspoken communication—a gesture Adam had noticed frequently among elven kind.
"The White Fang's methods have been controversial," the High King acknowledged, "but your organization has demonstrated something critical—the unwillingness to accept continued injustice regardless of personal cost. That resolve is precisely what the current situation requires."
"What situation?" Adam pressed, sensing they had arrived at the core purpose of his invitation.
The High Queen's expression grew grave. "The barriers' deterioration has not been entirely natural. Something has been... accelerating the process, particularly over the past decade. The same force appears to be manipulating dust energy in ways that threaten catastrophic imbalance."
"Salem," Adam stated flatly, revealing knowledge that clearly surprised the royal couple.
The High King's eyes narrowed slightly. "You are better informed than we anticipated. Yes, the entity known as Salem represents one vector of the threat—though not the only one. Her manipulation of Grimm populations is merely the most visible symptom of deeper disturbances."
"We believe," the High Queen continued, "that addressing these threats effectively requires the unified response of all peoples of Remnant—human, Faunus, and elven. But such unity is impossible while systemic injustices persist. The Schnee trial was merely the first step in a necessary realignment."
Adam considered this carefully. "And you see the White Fang as having a role in this... realignment."
"We see the White Fang," the High King corrected, "as representing a perspective and population that cannot be ignored in any viable future for Remnant. The question before you, Adam Taurus, is whether you wish that representation to be adversarial or collaborative."
"You're offering us a seat at the table," Adam observed, his tone deliberately neutral.
"We're acknowledging," the High Queen replied, "that the table itself must be reconstructed if it is to support the weight of the challenges ahead. Your organization has demonstrated the courage to dismantle unjust structures. That same courage, directed toward construction rather than destruction, could prove invaluable."
Adam glanced around the chamber, noting the attentive faces of both elven officials and Faunus representatives. He recognized the political reality before him—the elven emergence had fundamentally altered the power dynamics of Remnant in ways that made many of the White Fang's traditional tactics obsolete. Yet it had simultaneously created unprecedented opportunities for Faunus advancement.
"What specifically are you proposing?" he asked, his voice carefully measured.
The High King straightened, his manner shifting to formal diplomatic mode. "We propose that the White Fang transition from a primarily militant resistance organization to a formal political entity within the new governance structure of the Albanahr Republic. Your organization would maintain autonomy while participating in the Joint Council, with particular focus on security concerns and Faunus integration initiatives."
"In exchange," the High Queen added, "we offer resources, protection under elven law, and access to historical records regarding Faunus origins—records we believe rightfully belong to your people but have been deliberately suppressed or destroyed in human historical accounts."
Adam remained silent for a long moment, weighing the proposal against his long-held convictions. The White Fang had defined itself through opposition to human systems that offered no path to justice. This offered something different—not merely inclusion in an existing power structure, but participation in constructing a new one, informed by the revelation of a heritage that connected Faunus directly to the clearly powerful elven society.
"I will need to consult with my organization's leadership," he finally stated, a diplomatic deferrall that nonetheless acknowledged the seriousness of the proposal. "What you've revealed today... changes foundational assumptions about Faunus identity and history."
"Of course," the High King agreed readily. "We anticipated you would require time for consideration. However," his tone grew more direct, "events are accelerating. The destabilization of dimensional barriers continues, and with it, increasing Grimm activity and dust-energy anomalies. Our timeline for establishing effective counter-measures is not unlimited."
Adam nodded curtly, recognizing the implicit pressure without resenting it—the threat, if real, affected all populations of Remnant regardless of political alignment.
"Three days," he proposed. "I'll provide you with a formal response in three days, after secure consultation with my leadership council."
"Acceptable," the High Queen confirmed. "During that time, you and your companions are welcome to explore Albanahr freely, to observe the integration efforts firsthand. We believe seeing the practical implementation of our principles may inform your decision."
As the formal meeting concluded and the chamber began to empty, Adam found himself approached by Marron Umber, the ram-horned Faunus representative he had met the previous evening.
"Overwhelming, isn't it?" she commented without preamble. "Learning your entire understanding of your people's history has been deliberately incomplete."
Adam studied her with new interest. "You believe their account."
"I've seen the evidence," she replied simply. "Not just the historical records, but the biological analyses. The genetic markers are unmistakable once you know what to look for." She hesitated, then added more personally: "I was skeptical too, Mr. Taurus. The White Fang's concerns about convenient narratives aren't unreasonable. But I've spent months verifying these claims independently."
"And found them credible," Adam observed.
She nodded firmly. "More than credible—illuminating. So many aspects of Faunus biology and cultural memory that never properly fit human scientific explanations suddenly make sense in this context." She glanced toward the door where the royal couple had exited. "But more importantly, I've witnessed their actions matching their words. The policies being implemented here in Albanahr represent genuine structural change, not superficial accommodation."
Adam considered her assessment. The White Fang had encountered plenty of human politicians offering empty promises of reform, but the transformation of Vale into Albanahr demonstrated the elven court's capacity for swift, fundamental change when they deemed it necessary.
"Three days isn't much time to evaluate an entire sociopolitical system," he noted dryly.
"No," Marron agreed with a slight smile, "but it's enough time to see whether their actions align with their rhetoric. I recommend starting with the Eastern District community projects—they're furthest along in the integration process."
As Adam rejoined his companions, he found them in animated discussion about the revelations. Ilia in particular appeared deeply affected, her skin cycling through emotional colors as she processed the implications for her own identity.
"What do you make of all this?" she asked quietly when they had a moment alone.
Adam considered the question carefully. "It's... compelling," he admitted. "And strategically significant if true. The question isn't just whether we believe their account of the past, but whether their vision for the future aligns with our objectives."
"And if it does?" Ilia pressed.
Adam gazed out at the transformed city visible through the chamber's windows—a city where Faunus moved freely among elven kind, where ancient trees grew through modern infrastructure in seemingly impossible harmony, where power dynamics he had fought against his entire life appeared to be fundamentally reimagined rather than merely reformed.
"Then we adapt," he answered with uncharacteristic openness. "The White Fang has always existed to secure Faunus freedom and dignity by any effective means. If this represents a viable path to those objectives..." He let the implication hang.
Ilia studied him with surprise. "You're actually considering their offer."
"I'm considering all available information," Adam corrected, his tone firming. "Three days of observation, then we decide. The world has changed, Ilia. The question is whether we change with it—or get left behind."
As they left the chamber to begin their investigation of Albanahr's transformation, Adam found himself simultaneously suspicious of convenient narratives and confronted with evidence too substantial to dismiss. The revelation of Faunus origins—of his own origins—challenged fundamental aspects of his identity and motivation.
Yet the tactical reality remained clear: the emergence of elven kind had altered the political landscape of Remnant irrevocably. The White Fang could adapt to this new reality, potentially securing unprecedented advances for Faunus rights and recognition, or it could maintain its current trajectory against increasingly obsolete targets.
For the first time in years, Adam Taurus found himself contemplating a path to Faunus liberation that might not require bloodshed—a possibility both unsettling and strangely compelling to a leader whose identity had become inseparable from the violent struggle for justice. Whether this represented genuine opportunity or merely skillful manipulation remained to be determined in the coming days of investigation.
To be continued in Chapter 35: Ripples & Revelations part II