The old man looked at me with his crinkled, wizened eyes, giving me a soft smile. I stared back, wondering what he was so happy about. The fact that he was alive? That the day was so beautiful? I didn't know, nor did I care. Why should I? He was happy and that's all that mattered. I smiled back and nodded a greeting and went back to my bowl of soup in front of me. The warm wind rushed through the branches above my head, causing the leaves to rustle and the shadows they cast dance. Across the way, Ren, Nora, Ruby, and the rest all sat or stood around an elderly lady, listening to her tales of days past. Only in this sanctuary, hidden within the mountains, could people live in peace, safe from Grimm.
No one seemed to know why the Grimm avoided this place, nor did anyone care. A bird called out to its mate from the railing of a balcony across the way and then took flight, joining its fellow birds in their wheeling path through the sky. I watched them, fascinated with how quickly and carefree they flitted around, narrowly dodging trees and buildings. I subconsciously moved my foot and accidentally kicked the backpack next to my chair. A metallic clink rang out as its contents bumped against each other, sobering my thoughts. I returned to my soup.
"You carry a burden," the man croaked, the smile never disappearing from his face. "You've been carrying it for years, haven't you?"
I nodded, staring at my soup. It had been years since Qrow told me…told me about Pyrrha. Years since Ruby had climbed Beacon's CCTV tower, only to see Cinder plunge an arrow through Pyrrha's chest. It still hurt to think about it. I took a deep breath and slurped another spoonful of food.
"A friend, was it?" The old man wasn't backing down.
"Yeah, you could say that," I mumbled in return, wishing he would just drop it. The morning had been so nice, too.
The old man showed no signs of stopping, however, tapping the wooden cane he held in his weathered hands twice on the ground.
"Ahhhh, your face says it all. Close to this friend, were you? No, you were more than close; lovers is more like it, hmmm?" He leaned forward, cocking his head to the side, expectantly.
"Why do you care?" I challenged. I had been sure I was over it, but the way he said it… infuriated me.
The old man scoffed and leaned back in his chair. "Your reaction says it all." He studied me for a few moments more before continuing. "There's no need to get mad, I meant no offense. Just trying to figure out who you are, that's all."
"Well, maybe you should mind your own business?" Sighing, I placed the spoon back into the bowl. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I just… I just don't want to talk about her. I'm still dealing with.. you know, losing her."
"Do you dream of her?"
"Y-yeah. How'd you know?"
The old man's smile grew larger, showing off what teeth he still had. "When a loved one is taken from us, they live on in our hearts and minds. It's not uncommon for someone to have dreams of the ones they loved. Does she say anything? In these dreams of yours?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes…"
The old man leaned forward onto his cane, his stare becoming even more intense. "What does she say?"
I stirred my soup with my spoon. "Most of the time, she just screams in pain. But, sometimes…. Sometimes she calls to me. Like she's asking me for help."
"What was the last thing you said to her? Where were you, and what were you doing?" The old man layered the questions on top of each other. "What did she look like, this girl in your dreams?"
My mind raced to remember. "I…. Don't want to talk about it." It was a cop out, but it wasn't too far from the truth.
The old man wasn't fazed, however. "Fine, then. Answer this last thing, at least. What was the color of her hair?"
"Red," I sighed, slurping up some more of my soup. It was much cooler than I would have liked it.
"Hmmmm," the old man grunted thoughtfully as he leaned back in his chair. He stared up at the sky above, his fingers continually stroking the handle of his cane.
Minutes passed by in silence, and I finished my soup without any other interruptions. As I placed the bowl and spoon aside, I felt the old man's eyes turn back to me. Sure enough, when I glanced his way, his eyes were studying me face. I shifted uncomfortably, wondering if I should join Ruby and the others.
The old man suddenly rapped his cane against a metal pole beside him, causing me to jump at the sudden noise. A maid came scurrying across the courtyard.
"Yes?" She asked, glancing from me to the old man. The old man leaned in towards her. "I think we've kept them waiting long enough. Show them."
The maid nodded and curtsied to me. "If you would kindly follow me, sir."
I looked from the old man to the maid. The old man gave me a nod and I stood up to follow the maid. Turning, the maid walked towards the large building, calling out to the group listening to the elderly woman's tales. As one, they got up and joined me, giving me questioning looks. I shrugged and we silently agreed to just follow and see what happens.
The maid led us through the main doors and down a long hallway immediately to the right of the entrance. The main building was bustling with people, both elderly as well Huntsmen and Huntresses. A few glanced at us as we passed, smiling and nodding a polite greeting.
We eventually came to a set of closed doors. The maid stopped and turned to face us, smiling as she put one of her hands on the door handle. "Head through this courtyard and up the stairs directly across. Bear left and go down the hallway. Follow the signs that say 'atrium.'"
I opened my mouth to ask what we were looking for in the atrium.
"Hey!" A voice shouted from behind us cutting me off. I turned and saw a Huntsman come jogging down the hall. He was holding my backpack in his hands. "The old man said you might need this." He tossed my backpack through the air and I caught it, metal ringing with a loud clang from within as it collided with my chest. Without another word, the Huntsman turned and headed back down the hallway.
Turning back to the maid, I put my arms through the backpack's straps. "What are we looking for, exactly?"
The maid smiled, opened the door, and motioned for us to go through. "Don't worry, you won't miss her." Bowing, she shuffled her way back down the hallway and scurried off before anyone of us to ask any more questions.
My mind racing, I looked at the courtyard. It was beautiful, the plants beautifully taken care of, green leaves covering the branches of the bushes and trees. Colorful blossoms adding color to the already beautiful sight. In the middle, a fountain splashed water up into the air over a large pool. I found myself walking towards the fountain with the others, trying to make sense of it all.
For whatever reason, my mind went back to the conversation I had with the old man. He had asked me what color Pyrrha's hair had been. Not only that, but when I answered him, he had….
My heart skipped a beat. It couldn't. There was no way. It had been years since Beacon fell. It couldn't be…. And yet, I found myself walking faster and faster towards the stairs. Soon, I left the others behind, ignoring their questioning calls and bolted up the stairs. The hallway beyond was crowded with people tending to plants. But that wasn't about to slow me down, I couldn't let it. Hurriedly, I made my way through the crowd, bumping into a man carrying a pot causing the pot to crash to the ground shattering and scattering dirt everywhere. I mumbled an apology as I fought my way down that hallway. I turned corner after corner, climbed staircase after staircase. I became oblivious to the cries of outrage that the workers shouted at me as I bumped and collided my way through the crowds. I was sprinting when I finally rounded the last bend and climbed a staircase two steps at a time.
At last, I came to a pair of opened doors with the word, "ATRIUM" written over them. Beyond, I could see a large greenhouse with plants of all shapes and sizes growing. The path split in two down the middle, with a row of trees stretching towards the glass ceiling.
Where the path split, staring up at the branches, stood a woman. Her back was turned to me, but it was unmistakable who she was. The way she held herself, the clothes she wore. I had seen it all a hundred times in my dreams, and before. A breeze whistled through an open window, playing gently with her red hair.
"Jaune!" Nora called out from behind me. I could hear their footsteps hurriedly approaching, and then coming to a stop when they saw her. She turned around and looked at me, her green eyes meeting my tear-filled ones.
She smiled. "Hello, Jaune."